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#as long as other responsibilities don't take up all my free time again
blametheeditor · 17 days
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A Song Without Its Lyrics
Prompt Roulette By Title
Character A's best friend, Character B, is mute. That sure as hell doesn't stop Character B from somehow being the brightest, most expressive person starring in Character A's life.
Content Warnings: Cursing. Mentions of treating others as lesser than. Mentions of calling others 'pests'. Mentions of select mutism. Mentions of death and murder. Mentions of being apathetic
_______________________________
“If you just listen for two seconds-” 
“Why should I? Everything you’ve said up until this point has been worthless.” 
Vincent almost wants to yawn, watching the conversation between Scott and David go in yet another circle. Not that he cares if an agreement is made tonight. No one knows he’s even here, and he wouldn’t have bothered to show up if William hadn’t commanded him to make sure the negotiations didn’t get too out of hand.
Literally. The owner of Fazbear Corporation might be worried a certain egotistical employee will abuse the fact he’s a giant and therefore grab a certain ‘supervisor’ who’s small enough to fit in the palm of his hand in the heat of the moment, but Vincent knows that wouldn’t happen. Not when pests don’t deserve to so much as even look at him, none the less have the honor to be held by him. 
Though, ‘negotiations’ is a bit of a stretch. Scott has been negotiating and trying his hardest to get David on the same page. It’s David who refuses to budge, finding every excuse imaginable to disagree with something he might have even thought of but refuses to give in solely based on principle. 
It’d be admirable and entertaining if it wasn’t so childish. To be honest, Vincent’s unsure what they’re even discussing currently, nor the original reason why Scott, Eggs, and David met up at Freddy Fazbear’s. 
Personally, at this point, he’d take Eggs out of timeout to contribute to see if anything can get done tonight, even if it’s something as simple as setting up a schedule for every restaurant on when the mechanic can run diagnostic checks and fix anything that’s needed. It might not even be part of the agenda, but at least it’d be something. 
“Look, we need to work together on this, and-” 
“I don’t want to hear another word,” David interrupts yet again. Which is a bad look all around, using the fact his voice can overpower Scott’s effortlessly to gain complete control over the situation. But Vincent isn’t here to be a babysitter, or report to William the man that was hired partly for PR is nothing but a bully behind closed doors. If Scott can’t handle such petty tactics then he’ll need to learn how. “William might listen to your idiotic suggestions, but it’s clear you have no idea what you’re doing considering I’m here. So shut up and let me work.” 
Despite being several feet away from where Scott stands on a table in order to be on an ‘equal level’, though the attempt is completely ruined by the fact David’s standing to ensure his shadow is cast over the miniscule figure, Vincent can see the sandy haired man’s expression clearly. Every shift as the look goes from fear, to anger, to despair, finally landing on determination. 
I’m not going to shut up. You are going to sit down and we are going to converse like God damn adults.
It’s only when David doesn’t respond with confusion written all over his face does Vincent realize Scott had signed the words rather than say them out loud. 
And then Vincent isn’t hiding in the shadows at Freddy Fazbear’s, waiting for the business man to react. Instead, he’s sitting at a table. In a different though similar restaurant. With a much younger Scott Cawthon sitting beside his hand. One that isn’t purple. Without a single look of trepidation aimed toward it. 
...it’s been a while since he thought about his life before William. 
“Did I do something to earn the silent treatment?” he had asked. Gently poked Scott in the attempt to get some kind of reaction. Because it was the first time his best friend wasn’t ranting about how a mother blew up on him even though her ire was directed toward another coworker. Or excitedly discussing the fact their bosses were working on a new project and they’ll be one of the first ones to see it. 
It concerned him. Scott was the only one who saw Vincent’s words and actions as more than just him being an annoying asshole. And he didn’t want to lose the human’s friendship if he crossed a line somewhere. 
He was glad he didn’t receive a glare or a yell for demanding attention when it clearly didn’t want to be given. But even though the headshake given was immediate and decisive, nothing was said. Which meant he was still worried, just for different reasons. 
The worst part was the fact Scott looked so upset, panicked, and yet still not a single word was spoken. 
“Has the free food left you speechless?” Vincent mused. “We have it, what, a minimum of five times a week if not more? But this time it managed to blow your mind how amazing reheated frozen pizza can be?”  He hadn’t thought about it before, considering it’s not something you really focus on, but it was then he realized just how expressive Scott was. Maybe because he’s human, and being around giants has you unconsciously doing everything in your power to always be heard or noticed. It meant Scott should never play poker or else lose all of his money, but it also made it easy to see the relief that Vincent wasn’t upset. As well as the cautious hope that slowly began to appear. 
Vincent was happy to continue. Tapped his chin as he hummed in thought. “Going for a world record, then? Longest without saying anything?” 
Scott rolled his eyes dramatically with a look of ‘really?’. 
“Hey, I won’t judge. But don’t expect me to help, you’ve got to time it yourself.” 
It was so brief, a blink and you’ll miss it moment, and it didn’t help just how small the human is. But Scott looked hurt by his words. 
Which meant Vincent swept him up. There wasn’t even a yelp, but a finger was hugged in order for Scott to steady himself from the sudden action. Looked up at the giant with worry. 
“We’re watching a movie at my place.” 
“I’m sorry,” had been the first thing Scott said to him the next day. 
It pissed Vincent off his best friend felt the need to apologize for something that seemed out of his control. Wanted to find whoever put the idea Scott should be ashamed of it and punch them in the face. “What for? I thought we had a great time of you silently agreeing all of my opinions are correct and should never be challenged.” 
There was a wince, but there was also a smile. “I, uh, kn-know it’s annoying.” 
“Annoying?” Vincent asked. “Unless it’s annoying for you, it’s anything but annoying for me.” 
“You weren’t, but I, I couldn’t-” Scott sputtered, looked genuinely confused. “H-How?” 
“Adds to your charm, Scotty,” Vincent smirked. “Like your stutters.” 
He didn’t ask why. And Scott didn’t tell him. 
But the next time it happened several months later he sat the human down. Forcefully. Because Scott avoided him for as long as possible before the giant managed to snag him. “Do you know ASL, Scotty?” 
That stopped Scott from running away. Which was best for all of them considering all Vincent had to do was pin him without any effort. 
He was suspicious, uncertain why that was the first thing asked, but shook his head no. 
“Then you and I are going to learn it.” 
Because even though Vincent knew how to sign and read important phrases, and could go through the very tedious process of conversing by spelling every single word out, he was far from fluent. But he would like to be. He wanted to for a while ever since he learned in order to make sure every child could be included whenever the band started to play. Giving Scott a voice when his own didn’t work was just the last push he needed. 
To be honest, Scott would’ve been fine on his own without learning any sign language. It’s impossible to misinterpret what the human was saying considering just how expressive he was, but there would be scenarios when being able to say what you mean and want would be crucial. 
And there did come a time when Scott’s only words was strictly through signing. When William came into their lives. When the human could no longer express any kind of emotion. 
When Vincent finally realized what took his best friend’s voice away. 
That’s why, for the first time in years, Vincent feels a wave of protection grip him with an iron fist as he fully registers why Scott is suddenly signing instead of speaking despite the fact David wouldn’t be able to read it. Because his voice has been stolen away. And this is the only way to say what he wants to. 
A far cry from before when all he could do was obey without a way to fight back. 
Vincent’s body is moving before he can tell it to, stepping out of the shadows with the intent to kill David where he- 
“Oooooh, are you gonna take that, David?” Eggs suddenly asks, looking up at the giant with a wicked grin. Manages to freeze Vincent in place by words alone. 
“Take what?” the business man demands. 
“Scott telling you to sit down and stop being an asshole!” 
Vincent feels the pounding rage slowly subside until he’s backing into the shadows again before any of them manage to spot him. Stares at the blond human who was able to make sure Scott was heard. 
“No I’m not going to take it. He knows nothing about keeping a restaurant running properly.” 
I’m not saying I do, I’m saying there’s things you should know about the building Afton hasn’t told you about.
Scott started signing halfway through David’s growl, but Eggs had been watching to listen to both. “Scott’s got a good point, though. William might have trap doors lying around.” 
David stares down at them. “What the hell are you talking about?” 
“Sit down and Scott’ll explain!” 
Surprisingly, the giant does. Grumbling all the while, but he does. “Explain about the possibility of trap doors.” 
No trap doors, but it’s worse than that.
“The vent’s were replaced with snakes!” 
No.
Vincent ignores the rest of the conversation. Feels his entire body finally relax. Left to try and understand what happened, and why there’s a small piece of him that hadn’t been there before that’s still wanting to go to Scott’s side. 
With it clear Eggs is acting as a mediator, the purple man quickly makes his way out of the building before turning down the sidewalk leading to William’s office. Knowing that in a few hours, Scott will join him to report what was able to get accomplished. Because nothing has changed. William’s word is law with Vincent and Scott his messengers to obey every word said to them without hesitation. 
So why does it feel like he’s losing his best friend. 
8 notes · View notes
cryptidghostgirl · 2 months
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omg omg omg totally new silly idea- human! alastor x human! reader where they meet at a party and go outside for a walk near the pier and the moon is beautiful and… they pull out weapons on each other (specifically Alastor a knife and reader a gun) and thats when they decide to form a partner in crime partnership
And in other to keep appearances they are forced to “fake date”
Mimzy: youve been spending some time with that new girl havent you, is she your gf or smth?” chuckle
Naize 20 yr old smth Alastor trying to think of a response thats not that:...
Mimzy: OMG IS SHE?
Alastor: sureeeeee
And they aren't actually into each other until a lot later into their partnership when they’re chasing some guy and reader gets to them first and just starts going at it “hey man i think hes had enough” “YOU WANT WHAT HES HAVING???” thpe shit
and Alastor has to catch his breath and he lowkey thinks hes dying because his heart starts beating a lot, And he goes again to mimzy for advice cuz i dont think he has anu friends and shes like “oh sweetie…”
And because its quite impossible to not get attached at one point theyre in another chase and reader starts laughing hysterically like “did you see him trying to run away??? lmao” and he goes “I couldnt take my eyes off you” and then just grabs her face and SMOOCH >:)
I think its a good trope- fake dating to actual dating even if its. about. murderers- :3
A/N YOU GUYS COME UP WITH THE BEST REQUESTS JESUS CHRIST!!! Also I promise I will get to the rest of the requests this weekend, I had two exams today so this is the only thing I am gonna post. Sorry.
Cover Up (Human!Alastor x Human!Reader)
Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Warnings: uh, murder. Mild gore. Violence. Weapons.
Word Count: 4,460 (I went a little overboard with this one)
Master Lists:
Master Lists 
Hazbin Hotel Master List
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"I'll walk her home, don't worry Mimzy." Alastor was saying as Y/n pulled her coat over her shoulders.
The noises of the party still raging on filtered into the grand entryway of the house, muffled through the walls. Mimzy shot her two friends a suspicious look.
"It's nothing like that, Mimz." Y/n sighed, straightening the collar of her fur coat, "I just asked cause of all those murders in the news. Kinda freaky, don't you think? I don't really wanna be out alone at night and Al here was kind enough to offer."
Mimzy crossed her arms, eyebrows raised.
"Sure." she teased.
"Mimzy." Alastor sighed in response and she put her hands up in false surrender.
"Sorry! Sorry." she hummed playfully, "I know you two free birds would never."
Alastor rolled his eyes and, turning to Y/n, held out his arm. She took it daintily, a grateful smile on her face. The pair had just met a few hours earlier but had quickly fallen into a casual camaraderie. He lead her from the house, Mimzy calling her goodnights and wishes for their safety after their retreating forms.
It was a mostly quiet walk through the desolate midnight streets of New Orleans. Y/n hummed softly, kicking a can along with the toes of her healed shoes.
"You'll ruin them that way, wont you?" Alastor asked, feigning concern.
Y/n just shrugged.
"They're shoes. Yeah, they're nice but I wont let that stop me from living. Let's stop by the water, it's so pretty tonight."
Alastor turned slightly, looking out at the Mississippi with it's slightly turbid waters reflecting the light of the stars. He tried not to smile, it was like she wanted him to carry out his intended work. She was making it so easy for him.
"Sure."
They turned towards the rail and Y/n let go of his arm, leaning her elbows against it. She let out a sigh of longing as her eyes tracked the ripples in the surface.
Alastor watched her for a moment, the moon illuminating her features. She was a handsome woman, there was no doubt about it. It had been proved to him tenfold by the amount of prospective partners she had turned down dances with at the party in favor of drinking with him at the bar. That was not what Alastor was interested in, however. Once he was sure she was distracted, once he was sure she had no intent to take her eyes from the glowing river, he looked down. Moving his coat slightly to the side, his hand quickly found its way to the hilt of the knife he had stashed in his waistband for just such an occasion.
He pulled it out, the weight familiar, almost comforting in a sense, in his hand. There was a click. He looked up, the blade pointed to its intended target.
Y/n was facing him now, a wry smile on her face. One foot in front of the other, she took a step forward. The muzzle of the gun, the cocking of which had been the source of the noise which had drawn his attention, just a few centimeters from his chest. The tip of his knife hovered indefinitely by the open center of her coat. He chuckled in amusement, eyebrows raised.
"I thought there were a few more bodies in the news than there should have been. A gun? Really?"
Y/n shrugged.
"I'm little. I don't have the privilege of being able to overpower my victims like you."
Alastor hummed softly. A slight breeze picked up, playing with the edges of their hair.
"What a shame."
Y/n laughed lightly.
"I don't think so. It works well enough."
"Those machines are inelegant, they are detached."
"And you prefer a sense of intimacy to be involved in all your escapades?"
Alastor removed the knife, holding it up to his eyes. He turned the blade over in his hand, examining it closely. Following suit, Y/n let her hand fall to her side, the gun still cocked should an occasion arise to use it.
"I have an idea." he suddenly announced.
"Oh?" Y/n asked.
She took a step back, returning to the water's edge. Alastor followed, leaning over the railing beside her. They watched one another closely, weapons still clutched loosely in their hands.
"Yep."
"You gonna tell me what it is or am I gonna have to guess?" Y/n teased after a moment, breaking the oddly comfortable silence that had fallen after Alastor's last words.
"There have been a few times, of late, where I've come a bit... uncomfortably close to being seen."
"Getting lazy." Y/n hummed, "Or maybe just cocky."
"It seems like you could use a hand, someone with brute strength in case anything goes wrong."
She scoffed, smiling just the slightest bit.
"Are you proposing we work together?"
"You're the one who said it, not me."
Y/n shook her head slightly, amused.
"How would I know you wouldn't just turn on me? End up killing me or decide not to step in if I needed help?"
"And how would I know that you wouldn't rat me out? Alert someone to where I was and what I was doing rather than telling me someone was coming? It's called trust, Y/n."
Y/n thought it over, fiddling with the gun in her grip as she did so. Alastor watched, seeing the gears turning in her mind through the light of her eyes.
"Fine." she said at last, un-cocking the gun and holding a hand out to him, "You've got yourself a deal."
Alastor smiled, slipping the knife back into his belt before grasping her hand in his. It was chilled by the air of the January night enveloping them.
"Deal."
Y/n quickly learned Alastor's preferred demographic. He had a penchant for angry men, drunks. Y/n had been a one off, a spur of the moment opportunity he had thought to take hold of. Alastor had not been like that for her. Y/n's preferred victims were also men. Anyone that showed any pressing interest in her, anyone who tried to take her home for the night, always ended up six feet under. For both, murder was a way of processing their personal experiences and traumas.
As a result of their deal, Y/n and Alastor began to spend more time together. They had to learn one another's intricacies, their ways of thinking, their nature of being. It was a necessity if anything was actually going to work. They both had rather busy work schedules, Alastor as a radio broadcaster with his very own show and Y/n as a seamstress at a local dress shop. Because of this, more often than not, the only time they had to get to know one another was through shared meals. Both of them had to eat, needed a lunch break or dinner. It was just what worked. Because of their slightly shared demographic of victim, they ended up in bars together quite frequently as well.
It was in one of these meet ups that they ran into their first difficulty. Y/n was sitting across a table from him outside a cafe, lazily sipping on a coffee as she perused the missing persons list in a newspaper. The newspaper was old, they were exchanging information about who was responsible for what. Working together didn't just mean knowing one another as they were now, but their histories as well.
They should have known not to sit in such a public place. Both had many connections in the city due to their jobs, though few friends. It just so happened on that day that the one true friend they did have in common was walking down the very street they sat on.
"Alastor?" Mimzy exclaimed, catching sight of his familiar face and moving towards their table.
Y/n folded the newspaper, placing it on the table as she turned towards the sound. Mimzy came to a stop, her brow furrowing in mild confusion as she saw her friend was not in fact alone.
"And Y/n, fancy meeting you two here."
"Pull up a chair, Mimz." Y/n smiled and Mimzy obeyed.
Swinging a spare chair from a nearby table, she quickly joined them.
"I haven't seen you two since the party! How have you been."
"Fine, fine." Alastor hummed and Y/n nodded her assent.
"And whats this with you two getting coffee?" Mimzy asked, a teasing smile slipping onto her face as Alastor took a sip of his own drink, "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"
"No, not at all Mimz." Y/n shook her head, a slight smile on her face, "It's always a pleasure to see you."
"You sure this isn't a date or something? I mean, with the way you two left and everything... having coffee alone..."
Alastor nearly choked on his drink. Y/n and Mimzy turned to him as he put a hand to his chest, clearing his throat.
"Excuse me." he said and Mimzy's grin widened.
"Oh this is totally a date."
"No!" Alastor exclaimed, exchanging a fervent glance with Y/n across the table.
She raised her eyebrows, pursing her lips. Without words, she told him to handle it. Alastor sighed.
"Are you sure?" Mimzy asked, a suggestive tone to her voice.
"I... uh..." Alastor stuttered, his brain working in overdrive to think of anything else. It came up empty, "Fine. Yes. We're... we're on a date."
"You caught us." Y/n chimed in and Mimzy turned to her.
"Oh my stars! You two.... I shoulda guessed you'd get on like a house on fire. Shame I can't invite you to any more of my singles parties though Y/n, you are a riot."
Singles parties. A hunting ground. Y/n smiled.
"No, no, Mimz. We're not exclusive or anything."
Mimzy's eyes widened slightly at the revelation as Alastor shot Y/n a look across the table. Dating was going to be hard for them to sell but swingers too? What was she thinking.
"Really? How exotic." Mimzy hummed in thought.
"We're all going to hell anyways so, why not." Y/n shrugged.
"Oh you." Mimzy laughed, placing a hand on Y/n's shoulder as she got to her feet, "Well, I won't keep you love birds any longer. I'll see you next week for the next party then?"
"We'll see." Alastor hummed placidly.
Once Mimzy had gone, he rounded on Y/n.
"Swingers?" he asked, eyebrows raised, "Really?"
"Hey, you're the one who started the whole 'we're dating' thing." Y/n sighed, picking the newspaper back up and resuming the task at hand, "I just made it easier for us."
"It will utterly destroy my reputation if this gets out you know."
Y/n shot him a look over the top of the paper.
"Al, you got a lot more to worry about than pretending to be a swinger in terms of your reputation. Now, Marcus Alcost? Six four, buff, scar on his left forearm? Brown hair?"
"Blue eyes?"
"Umm... yeah."
"Yep, that was me."
"Nice. Musta been a tough one to take down."
Alastor would track men, following them out as they left the establishments in the small hours of the morning with the intent of returning to their families. He would stalk them, corner them, lead them in. Y/n would stand watch, alerting him at the first sign of trouble.
The moment she heard footsteps, chatter, Y/n would duck in. Grabbing Alastor by the arm, she would whisk him off in some random direction, having consistently used the time she was on lookout to scout for escape routes.
They had had a few close calls, one or two times he had had to press her up against a wall and pretend to kiss her to avoid prying eyes. They always had a good laugh after something like that. Mostly, things worked out well. They each had survived on their own for years at this point. They knew what they were doing, adding another person into the mix just made it a tad easier.
Y/n, on the other hand, didn't need to track her victims down, they did that work for her. She would dress up all pretty and the moment someone asked to take her home or something of the like, would agree. Then she'd pull them into some ally or another under the guise of not wanting to wait a second longer and attack. Alastor would stand behind her, arms crossed menacingly as she carried out her work. He threatened so she could perform and she never had any trouble thanks to him.
That was, until one night about a year into their little partnership. As the time had passed, their relationship had grown. They still held the ruse of dating up before anyone who asked why it was they each spent so much time with the other but, a real friendship had begun to blossom between them as well. As it turns out, they had a lot more in common than just a tendency to commit brutal murders. Y/n knew Alastor well by now, better than anyone else most likely, and he knew her as well. That was how he could tell something was wrong.
Y/n had given Alastor the usual signal from across the bar and he had settled his tab. As he followed the pair, Y/n and the tall man whose hand she held, Alastor had noticed something was off. Normally by this point Y/n was stumbling around, pretending to be drunk and ditzy. She was doing this very thing now but in a more halted and jagged way. The man she was with seemed more believably drunk than she was, swaying this way and that. Her movements were uncharacteristically harsh as she pulled the man into the ally about a block ahead of him.
Alastor picked up the pace, breaking into a light jog. He reached the ally and turned down it, expecting to see Y/n flirting with the man or with her gun out already. Instead, he was met with something entirely different.
At the back of the ally lay the huddled mass of the man. On top of him was Y/n. The thuds of her knuckles against his face was the only sound breaking the silence of the night. She hit him, again and again. Alastor stood there, stunned.
"Dear, whatever is the matter?" he asked at last, trying to wrap his head around the situation.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
"Y/n."
Thud. Thud. Thud.
He could see the splatters of blood now, on the ground around them and the wall behind. The thuds included the occasional squelch, the crack of a bone.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
"You'll ruin your hands for work tomorrow if you keep at this."
Still, she ignored him. There was a sickening crunch. Sighing, he approached.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
He could see it now, the man's mutilated face. Part of his skull looked like it had caved in. He had stopped moving long ago.
"Y/n, dear," Alastor tentatively reached out a hand towards her shoulder as he spoke, "don't you think he has had enough?"
Y/n whipped around to him, her eyes wild and her bloody raw knuckles raised. He froze, his hand hovering above her shoulder. There was blood everywhere. It soaked the sleeves of her collard shirt, it dripped from her fingers, it decorated her face and her bared teeth.
"What, you fucking want some too?"
Alastor's breath caught in his throat. His heart pounded against his ribcage, begging for escape. It wasn't fear, it couldn't be. He could take this girl down in ten seconds flat, blood hungry as she was.
Y/n's eyes, sharp with violence, softened slightly as she saw his reaction. She let her hands fall, resting them on the man's chest.
"He tried to drug me." she revealed, turning her eyes back to her mess, her masterpiece.
"He what?"
"Yeah." she sighed, using the back of her hand to push her hair from her eyes, leaving a residue of blood in the wake of the movement, "I caught him, switched the drinks."
Alastor shifted his gaze to the man before falling on Y/n once again. Her face was blank now, all the rage gone.
"He tried to drug me." she said again, her voice hollow.
At last, his hand found its home on her shoulder and she turned to face him once again. Alastor extended his free hand to Y/n. She examined it for a moment before daintily placing one of her own in his and allowing him to help her to her feet. Both her hands now rested in his as they looked back at the remains of the man.
"Well, he's definitely dead."
Alastor let go of Y/n's hands. Now free, he used one of them to turn her face to his. Blood spattered, wide eyed, lips slightly parted -- his heart fought for freedom from his chest once again.
"He deserved it."
Alastor let go of Y/n's chin and used the cuff of his jacket to wipe some of the blood from her face.
"Can you walk me home?"
Normally if she had asked something like that, Alastor would have teased her to no end. Why be scared of the monsters in the dark when she herself was one of them? But her voice had been small, timid. She had avoided his eyes and his fingers tingled at the prospect of her viewing him as protector.
"Of course, my dear."
They did not have another planned meeting until two weeks from that day. Y/n had a big project at work and wouldn't have any spare time because of it. Alastor, normally restless at the idea of having to wait so long to satisfy his bloodlust either by killing or seeing the show of death, was grateful for the respite. He was confused, overwhelmed even, because his strange reactions, the change in his patterns of thought towards the girl, hadn't ended at Y/n's front door.
No, she was haunting him. Like a vengeful ghost, he saw her in his mind. She took up every waking moment, he didn't know what to do. Alastor waited a day and still, it persisted. The skip of his heart, the odd slightly sick feeling in his stomach at the thought of their reunion. He waited three days and it didn't stop. By the time the end of the week rolled around and Alastor still found himself smiling at the prospect of only having to wait another week not to kill but to see Y/n again, he did the unthinkable. It was the only option he could come up with. Besides Y/n, she was the only other person in the world he even half trusted. Alastor called Mimzy.
"Alastor, darling!" she excitedly exclaimed into the phone, "What a surprise! What can I do for you?"
"Yeah, hey Mimzy. Um..." he struggled to find the words, fiddling with the phone cord as he walked to the window, looking down at the street below, "I just... I need your advice about something."
"What is it, hun?" she immediately replied, "Seems its got you in a tizzy, not a lot can do that."
"I... It's about Y/n."
"Uh-oh, trouble in paradise?"
"No. Maybe?" he turned from the window, collapsing in his desk chair, "I don't know."
"Spill."
"Well, we... I just.... Mimz, I can't stop thinking about her."
"Well I would hope not, you've been together for almost a year now."
"Yeah well, about that. It may have been a... stretching of the truth? Shall we say?"
"Al." Mimzy warned after a moment's silence, "If you are playing with this gi-"
"No!" he exclaimed, cutting her off and quickly crafting an excuse, "No. It was just to get our parents off our backs. We had a deal. They were both pestering us about when we were gonna get married, you know how it is."
"I thought your dad was dead?"
"My ma though, she really wants to see me settled down."
"I guess that explains the swingers thing." Mimzy sighed, "It didn't really seem in character for either of you. So, whats the matter?"
"I told you, I can't stop thinking about her. It's like... it's like... look, we're not dating, but we're friends, you know? And we were out at a bar together a few nights ago and she just... she did something and when I looked at her, it was like I died."
"That little minx." Mimzy laughed in glee, "What the heck did she do?"
"Just something, okay?"
"I have got to quiz her about this."
"No! Please, no. She'd... probably be embarrassed."
"Mmm... okay...." came Mimzy's doubtful reply, "So what was it you needed help with?"
"Well, that. It was like the breath had left my body entirely. I felt... sick, my chest hurt. It was so strange. I thought it would go away once I got some sleep but it didn't. Every time I think about her, it feels like there is a vice around my heart and I can't stop thinking about her."
"Al, seriously? This is what you're asking me about?"
"Yeah?" he uncertainly replied after a moment.
"What are you, twelve?"
"Mimzy, are you going to help or not?"
She sighed.
"Alastor, you have a crush on her."
A beat.
"I do not."
"Yes, you do. Maybe even more."
"I..." his brow furrowed, his breath left his body.
This was bad. This could be dangerous, detrimental even.
"Are you sure?"
"Butterflies in your stomach? Pains in your chest? Can't get her out of your mind? You're even breathless for christ's sake Al. It's textbook first pangs of love."
"Fuck."
Mimzy laughed.
"You're already pretend dating, what harm would asking her to do the real thing with you do? My bet is, she's probably been feeling the same thing about you. That tends to happen in cases like yours, I've seen it before. The whole 'fake love turns real' trope. It's overdone if you ask me."
"Mimzy, this isn't one of your trashy romance novels. This is my life."
"So live it radio man! Go get that girl."
Alastor was nervous, trembling even as he sat at the bar. His glass of whiskey had gone warm on the table as he watched Y/n dancing and having fun in the crowd. This was how it usually went when it was his turn to hunt, she'd have fun and he'd find a target. Once the target left, he'd grab her and they'd move out.
Tonight he was distracted and it showed. The man had nearly given them the slip. With Alastor's knife still sticking out of his shoulder, he had ducked away and started running. Of course that meant Alastor and Y/n had to give chase. They ran after him through the streets of New Orleans as he screamed bloody murder and Y/n's heels clicked definitively on the ground. He was thankful that the hour was late and no one was out and about, thankful the man was so drunk his words came out closer to garbled singing than pleas for help, thankful he was slowed by his consumption.
When they at last caught up with him, Alastor grabbed his second knife from his belt and, taking the man's hurt shoulder in his free hand, buried it deep in the man's back. He fell to the floor, sputtering, coughing up blood. In a few moments he was still. Alastor turned to Y/n, panting.
Her pretty eyes traced a path between murderer and victim a handful of times before a smile broke out onto her face. Before he could really register what was happening, she was doubled over in laughter, clutching her stomach.
Alastor watched Y/n, eyebrows raised as they both caught their breath. After about a minute, she straightened up and turned to him, wiping a tear from her eye.
"What?" Alastor asked with a wry smile, "What is so funny about a dead man."
"He..." she broke out into laughter again, "He... the way he ran! And we almost lost him?! Oh my god, Al, that coulda been so bad."
"The way... he ran?"
"He... didn't you see it? Oh my god, it was so funny. Like he was running in a three legged race with an invisible partner." she wheezed.
Alastor felt the heat pooling in his cheeks. Mimzy was right, it was time for him to live his life. A normal existence could coexist with his hobby, Y/n had already proved that to him.
"Didn't you see?" she asked again.
"No." he shook his head, "I was... I was watching you."
"You were... Al, theres no way you were." Y/n scoffed, "No way. If you were watching me, he would have gotten away. If you were watching me, it would meant that you were unconcerned by your oh-so-precious reputation being ruined. If you were watching me, it would mean..."
She trailed off as he took a step closer to her, his gaze flicking between her eyes and her lips. Y/n's cheeks flushed pink.
"Alastor."
Her voice was a dying prayer. Reaching a trembling hand up, he laid it on the back of her head, his fingers tangling with her hair as she looked up at him with wide eyes. Alastor closed the gap.
He had been so scared. Scared she would push him away, that she wouldn't kiss back. Even a little bit scared he'd just become the next name on her list of degenerate men she'd killed.
There was a moment, a split second, where his fears were realized. Then, she washed them all away. Hands buried in the lapel of his jacket, she pulled him closer, Y/n leaned in.
They broke apart after a moment, their cheeks flushed and utterly breathless.
"I-"
"Would you like to go on a date with me, Y/n?"
Her eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"Are you going to try to kill me again?"
"Oh please, I thought we'd moved past that darling."
Y/n smiled, still holding him close. Alastor let his hands fall onto her waist as they swayed slightly under the light of the moon.
"Yes Alastor. I will let you take me on a date."
"We will not be swingers."
Y/n laughed.
"Just had to make that clear."
"No, Alastor. If I am going to get you, I want you all to myself. Now, what are we going to do about that body?"
----
Next Part -> Cover Up pt. 2
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darkshelbyfiction · 7 months
Text
forced to serve (p.1)
Tommy Shelby x Reader
Warning: Smut, Forced Prostitution, Dub-Con, Butt Stuff, Ass to Mouth
Written for and with my sexy wife @queenshelby, luv you bae
Summary: Your husband forces you into prostitution and your client is Thomas Shelby 👌
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After you were told to prepare for your first client that evening, you found yourself nervous about what would come. This wasn't how you wanted things to turn out - not by a long shot! It was your very own husband who forced you into prostitution and desperate times called for desperate measures, right? You somehow had to feed your young child.
Dressed in your most provocative attire, your heart raced when you heard someone approaching your door – it was him. Tommy Shelby. A man whose reputation preceded him. From stories whispered around town, he always demanded something different and intense from those he interacted with. He enjoyed intercourse that was rough and forceful and demanded complete submission from those who served him.
He paid well and he was informed by the madam of the house that you would be obedient and allow him to penetrate you in whatever way he wished, for at least two hours.  
It was all part of the deal you had made before entering this world where men like Tommy Shelby roamed free, dictating others' lives, desires, destinies.
The moment he entered the room, he immediately began taking off his shirt, exposing himself without shame or embarrassment. His muscular body gleaming under dim lights only intensified the raw power emanating from him. There was no mistaking whose presence filled the room now.
"Get on your hands and knees and crawl over here, my pet!" Tommy commanded without bothering to formally introduce himself.
"You want me to crawl towards you, on the floor?" you asked hesitantly, unsure whether you really understood his request correctly.
"Yes, Love," he barked back at you impatiently. "And don't ask questions. Just do it."
Your heart thumped rapidly against your ribcage, adrenaline coursing through your veins, heightening your senses. As you scrambled across the floor, getting closer to his towering frame, a strange mix of fear engulfed you.
"Good pet", he growled softly, taking notice of your compliance. Then, gripping your wrist tightly, he pulled you up onto your feet and led you towards the bed, commanding you once again to get on your knees, facing away from him.
Without waiting for your response, he spanked your bottom harshly, sending a shockwave of pain throughout your entire body. As tears welled up in your eyes, you felt a sudden surge of anger rise within you.
"Your safe word is red. Use it when you can't take it anymore and I will stop," Tommy spoke, his voice hoarse with lust. "I am not going to be gentle. In fact, I am going to hurt you, but this is what I am fucking paying you for, eh?"
As he roughly grabbed your hips, lifting you off the ground and positioning you into a standing doggystyle, you couldn't help but feel utterly overwhelmed by his brute strength. With one hand firmly grasping your waist, he used the other to pull your skirt higher, baring your bare behind for him to see. 
Your stomach twisted with nerves as he swiftly removed his trousers, releasing his enormous erection from its confines. It stood tall and proud, almost taunting you. 
Tommy reached forward and, without warning, he pushed your head down onto the mattress. "Open your legs wide and stick out your ass, sweetheart," he ordered.
Reluctantly, you did as instructed, feeling humiliated and afraid of what might happen next. Toying with your tender flesh, he slapped your ass repeatedly until it stung fiercely. He then took hold of your waist once more, pulling you further into the position he desired. Your face flushed crimson with anger and shame, yet your resolve remained unbroken. If anything, these brutish acts fueled your determination to endure. Tommy leaned in close, speaking directly into your ear, his hot breath causing goosebumps along your neck.
"Don't worry, love," he whispered huskily, "This won't last forever." He punctuated his words with a sharp slap to your ass cheek, eliciting a whimper from you despite your best efforts to suppress it.
"Now tell me how badly you need my cock inside your cunt, little bird," he said in a low, threatening tone.
"Please, sir..." you murmured, trying hard to maintain composure. "Just please make sure it doesn't hurt too much…"
At this point, his expression changed, morphing into pure malevolence. He knew just how far he could push you without crossing the line marked 'red'.
"That's my good pet, eh" he snarled approvingly, rubbing his cock against your still dry entrance. 
Realising that you were not ready yet, he removed his cock temporally and spat some saliva onto his fingers and pressed them against your moistening hole, massaging and stretching it slowly while occasionally glancing at you with a look of hunger. You clenched your teeth together, fighting back the urge to cry out from the burning sensation spreading through your insides.
Finally, he stopped and held his manhood upright, his gaze fixated upon yours. "Are you ready, love?" he questioned with anticipation evident in his voice. You nodded mutely, unable to find the courage to speak aloud.
Unable to bear the intensity of the pressure building inside you, you finally gave consent, letting out a soft whimper that seemed to excite him even more. Grabbing you tighter by the waist, he thrust violently into you, causing you to gasp involuntarily.
Despite the initial discomfort, the familiarity of the rhythm gradually allowed you to become accustomed to his size. However, you struggled to regulate your breathing, hyperventilating as you tried to keep pace with the increasing speed of his movements.
Clutching the sheets tightly, you winced every time he drove deeper into you, the pain shooting through your loins growing stronger with each thrust.
Tommy loved watching his partner squirm beneath him, submitting to his every desire. 
"Isn't this what you wanted?" he taunted, pounding into you relentlessly.
Tears rolled down your cheeks as the intensity continued to increase, leaving trails of salty residues on your skin. Each stroke felt like an invasion, deepening the connection he sought.
You bit your lip, determined not to let your cries escape. Instead, you focused on counting the number of strokes, trying to block out the searing pain with numbers. Your throat became parched as sweat trickled down your forehead, making it difficult to swallow.
"You are married aren't you?" Tommy suddenly interrupted your internal struggle, his heavy breath echoing in the silence of the room.
"What makes you think that?" you managed to choke out, trying to hide your feelings behind innocuous indifference.
"The ring on your finger gave it away," he replied smugly, continuing his thrusts, groaning loudly.
"Y-yes, sir. I am married" you mumbled weakly, your whole body trembling slightly from the assault.
He paused briefly, admiring your vulnerability before continuing mercilessly.
"Tell me Love, does your husband fuck you like this?" he crooned, driving his hips harder into you.
You cried out involuntarily, overcome by the intensity of his movement. Your legs quivered with fatigue, your arms shook as they supported your weight precariously on all fours.
"Answer me, love," he growled, pushing deeper inside you, his member pulsing against your wall, filling you completely. Your throat burned with the effort of holding back your cries.
"No," you whispered hoarsely, causing Tommy to smile maliciously as, unexpectedly, he started to probe your anal opening with his finger while continuing to thrust into your sore pussy, 
"Does your husband ever touch you here?" He breathed heavily into your ear, his warm breath tickling your sensitive skin.
You closed your eyes, struggling with the urge to both answer him honestly and to deny him altogether. 
"Answer me, love," he repeated forcefully, pushing his index finger into your anus with such precision and ease that it surprised you greatly. You cried out in astonishment at the sudden intrusion.
"No," you answered eventually while crying out loudly. 
His laughter resonated around the room, causing goosebumps to prickle your skin. "So, has anyone fucked your ass yet? Tell me, sweet thing."
You cringed internally, mortified that he would ask something so personal, but knowing it was part of the game, you mustered enough courage to respond truthfully.
"N-no," you stammered quietly, the word nearly escaping your lips before you could catch yourself.
"Well, we'll rectify that today, shall we?" He purred menacingly, slipping two fingers into your wet, gaping anus, stretching and teasing you slowly. 
Your muscles contracted involuntarily in response to his fingers penetrating your rectum, making you writhe underneath him. Your mouth opened slightly in surprise, emitting silent gasps.
"Good pet," he whispered, withdrawing his fingers slowly and methodically from your anus. 
"I think your ass is ready for my cock now," mockingly, reaching for the bedside table and retrieving some Vaseline. 
Fearful and hesitant, you lowered your head submissively. He ignored your reluctance and quickly covered his cock in the creamy substance. 
Without waiting for your permission, he positioned himself over you again, guiding his engorged tool toward your aching anus. His grip on your hips was ironclad, refusing to allow you to escape or resist his assault. You writhed helplessly underneath him, struggling to accept the impending invasion. Despite your protests, your body refused to comply, betraying your resistance as he slowly inserted his length into your rear passage.
"Remember your safe word love," he whispered softly into your ear. You bit your tongue, willing yourself to remain strong.
As his full girth filled you up, he began moving within you, his powerful hips bucking against your own, his hands pressing harshly against your shoulders, pinning you in place.
The world around you blurred, and the only sound you heard was your labored breathing combined with his savage grunts of pleasure. Your tears flowed freely down your cheeks, unnoticed by either party involved in this perverse act.
"It hurts, doesn't it? Having my thick cock in your smallest hole? I can feel how much it aches you when I slide in and out," Tommy gloated cruelly, his breath ragged and heavy against your shoulder. His cock throbbed steadily inside you, reminding you of his sheer power over you. It felt like he had no regard for your limits, your needs – he simply possessed you, taking whatever he wished, whenever he chose.
"Tell me, do you like feeling my massive rod buried deep inside your bowels?" He asked playfully, his voice carrying a sinister undertone that made your stomach turn.
Swallowing nervously, you managed to gather enough strength to utter a faint yes. It wasn't a complete fabrication though, as you did enjoy feeling full. This admission served as further encouragement for him, prompting him to continue his brutal attack.
With each new entry, his pace increased incrementally until you found yourself lost in a haze of desperation, pain, and arousal. Your walls seemed to close in on themselves, creating a claustrophobic environment where you could neither scream nor beg for release.
In this moment, Tommy realized that he was approaching his peak - the culmination of his dominance and control over you. Increasing his tempo exponentially, he used his considerable strength to propel himself deeply within you once more, ignoring your frantic attempts to pull away.
His hardened pelvis rubbed against your tender entrance, forcing you to succumb to the waves of pleasure coursing through your body despite your best efforts to maintain distance.
Every thrust reverberated throughout your entire frame, sending shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through your system, making it impossible to hold back your orgasm. As you approached climax, Tommy increased his vigor, grasping your hips firmly, rocking your body against his rhythmic pace.
With every thrust, your moans grew louder, feeding off one another. Tommy couldn't help but be proud of his mastery, reveling in your submission. You were a delicious treat he didn't want to end too soon. Your breath quickened, and your nipples hardened under his gaze. As your excitement reached its peak, the walls around you disappeared, replaced by the intense heat of passion. The sensation of his hand cupping your breast brought forth a surge of electric energy, heightening your already spiraling awareness.
The rhythm of his thrusts intensified, mirroring the rapid beat of your heart. With each motion, you could sense the pressure building within, threatening to erupt and consume you entirely.
Your nails scratched furiously at the sheets, seeking some kind of anchor amidst the storm of emotion and physical stimulation consuming you. The taste of salt lingering on your lips only added fuel to the fire, and you found yourself begging for him to take you even further.
"Please, please don't stop!" you pleaded. Tommy laughed triumphantly, a devilish glint dancing in his eyes.
"Do you truly wish for me to push beyond your limit, my little pet?" He taunted, grazing his teeth along your neck, sending shivers racing across your flesh. Unable to suppress your desire any longer, you nodded fervently, meeting his challenge eagerly.
"Then open your mouth wide, my dear," he instructed, loosening his grip just enough to grant you a brief reprieve as he pulled his cock from your ass and pushed you onto the floor.
"You are going to swallow my cum without spilling a drop," he commanded sternly, towering over you.
Feeling violated and humiliated, you dropped obediently to your knees and took his rigid erection into your hungry mouth. Tears streamed down your face as you performed this degrading task, your pride battered and bruised beneath his feet.
Despite the overwhelming shame and embarrassment, you tried your utmost to satisfy him, hoping to regain even the slightest fragment of dignity that remained intact.
His manhood twitched visibly in response to your efforts, provoking him to grab your hair roughly, pulling your head closer to his groin.
"Keep it up, open your throat," he threatened gruffly, reaffirming his absolute control over you. Panicked, you obeyed without question, not wanting to anger him further. Every caress of his fingers through your strands sent shudders of fear down your spine, yet you continued to service him dutifully.
His member grew heavier in your mouth, swelling impossibly larger still as you worked harder to accommodate its size. You fought the urge to gag, concentrating solely on staying true to your promise to him. The struggle became evident in your reddened eyes and quivering jawline. Desperate to avoid his wrath, you tightened your grip on his length, sucking harder, and increasing the intensity of your movements.
Tommy let out a low growl of satisfaction, pleased with your performance.
"Here it comes, love. Feast upon my essence, my precious pet," he said, allowing his seminal fluid to pour forcefully into your awaiting mouth. The salty liquid flooded your palate, filling your mouth completely. The bitter flavor caused your lips to pucker. Still, you valiantly kept your mouth closed, determined not to defile his command.
Still holding your hair tightly, he allowed you to come up from your knees, bringing you into a standing position.
"Open and show me your tongue, I want to make sure you swallowed it all." Obeying, you extended your tongue to meet his inspection.
"Very good, my pet. Now get back on to your knees and clean off my cock properly," Tommy ordered coldly, releasing his grip on your hair. Observing his reaction, you hurriedly knelt before him, carefully opening your mouth to receive his cock once more. His phallus emerged from your mouth, wet and sticky, leaving behind traces of his seed.
"Lick it clean, come on!" he demanded brusquely, eyeing you critically. You complied immediately, not wanting to upset him anymore today. Swirling your tongue around the sensitive tip, you meticulously cleansed it, paying special attention to any lingering residues.
"That will do," he conceded finally, stepping away from you. Exhausted, you sank down onto the floor, feeling a wave of relief wash over you as the events gradually subsided.
Looking up, you noticed Tommy surveying you with a mixture of admiration and contempt.
Clearly satisfied with your obedience, he smirked, wiping the remaining evidence of his domination from your lips with a smile.
"You did well tonight, pet," he admitted grudgingly, turning to leave. "And I cannot believe that your husband would share someone as divine as you are, sweetheart. I certainly would not share you with other men if you belonged to me, which makes me wonder what sort of man he is..." Tommy leered at you suggestively, his tone oozing confidence and superiority. You flinched involuntarily, unsure whether to feel insulted or intrigued by his brazen assessment. Feeling emboldened by his apparent interest, you sought to learn more about the enigmatic Mr. Shelby. "My husband... He is quite peculiar, sir," you hesitated, casting your eyes downward thoughtfully, without telling him that he was forcing you to do this for money. 
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moonstruckme · 8 months
Note
poly!marauders all eating out fem!reader at the same time. i cant vision how it would work but say sirius has your hole, james has your clit and remus is at your thighs. thank you my love if you choose to write this!🫶
Hi, thanks so much for requesting! I couldn't quite figure out how their heads would all fit so I hope this is alright?
cw: smut mdni (praise, oral fem receiving)
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 480 words
James is laughing at you. Laughing, as you writhe and gasp in his arms. You'd never have taken him for a sadist, but here you are.
"You're okay, angel," he chuckles, moving his hand from around your waist up to your chest to keep your back pressed against his front, and indulging in palming one of your breasts while he's there.
"I—" you gasp, scarcely able to think, much less speak, after the two orgasms you've already had in the past hour.
Sirius takes his lips from your clit with a lewd popping sound, and you cry out. "She's gonna crush Moony's head if she doesn't keep 'er legs open," he complains.
Remus only mumbles, and you can't decipher whether it's in agreement or denial as the reverberations of his rumbling voice in your hole make your head swim. Your trembling thighs press against the long-fingered hands keeping them spread apart on either side of his head.
"I've got it," James supplies, securing you against him with the hand on your chest while using his other to bring your knee upwards, freeing Remus on the one side. "Don't listen to him sweetheart, you're being good for us, aren't you?"
Sirius snickers at your blubbering, nonsensical response, going back to sucking your clit with renewed vigor. A moment later, Remus swirls his tongue inside you, and the coil in your core that's been tightening, slowly but surely, shatters completely. Sirius raises his head from between your legs, crooning at the sounds you make as James smooths a soothing path up the inside of your thigh and Remus works you through your orgasm with his blessed tongue.
James lowers your leg back over the edge of the bed once your breathing starts to steady again, and Remus pats the one he's been holding affectionately, making you jump. "You did so well, love," he says. An embarrasing little frission goes through you at the praise.
James hums in agreement, letting his finger drag over the sweat-slicked skin of your underboob. "So well," he repeats, and his voice is all sweetness, almost making you forget his amusement at your torment a minute before. "Our good girl."
"Thanks," you manage, brain still fizzing like a shaken soda bottle. "Thank you."
"Aw, you're welcome, baby. What do you think?" Sirius' grin is all teeth. "Another?"
At first, you assume you must have misheard him. You raise your head from James' shoulder, every muscle in your body seeming to tremble from being held at attention so long, but before you can ask Sirius to repeat himself, James says, "Yeah, I think she can handle another, can't you angel?" He kisses at the slope of your neck coaxingly, and when he reaches down to tug playfully at Remus' hair, his knuckles brushing your sensitive cunt, you let out a whimper. "Moons, get up here. I want another turn."
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natsaffection · 4 months
Text
Apologize.
Sugar Mommy!Natasha x sugar baby!Reader
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MINORS DNI 18+!
Summary: Natasha let you apologize to her employees
Warnings: Age gap! (N= 37 R= 21), BDSM themes, Mommy kink, spanking, fingering (while watched), degration
Word count: 2,3k
A/n: Happy New year! What better way to start the year than by cumming 4 times bc of this amazing creature? What? Never mind 🔊
💵 This plays in the My sweet Baby universe 💵
-
The soft glow of dawn seeped through the large windows of Natasha's penthouse, casting a warm hue across the room. She stirred from her peaceful slumber, a contrast to the groggy but content figure beside her – You.
She, with her graceful demeanor, carefully extricated herself from the cozy embrace, causing you to mumble in protest. „it's Saturdayyy, Why are you getting up so early?"
Natasha smirking and looking back to you, "Some of us have responsibilities, little girl. Work doesn't take weekends off." You, still half-asleep, pouted as Natasha leaned down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead. "I'll be back soon. Try to get some more sleep."
"Mmm, too early for responsibilities.."
As Natasha prepared for the day, the scent of fresh coffee filled the air. You, now more awake, shuffled into the kitchen in one of Natasha's oversized shirts. "You make the best coffee, you know?" Natasha looks behind her, surprised that you are awake now and have gotten up, "One of my many talents.."
You leaned against the kitchen counter, watching Natasha with a mix of admiration and love. Despite the early hour, Natasha's presence radiated confidence and grace. "It won't be too long. What do you have planned for the day?"
you accepted the cup she gave you and thought for a moment "well, Maybe a lazy day in, catching up on shows. You know..the usual."
"Sounds perfect. I'll be back before you know it." Before she goes, she looked at one of her Maiden, “Make sure she gets a good breakfast, I’ll be off for the day.”
“Of course, Mrs. Romanoff. Safe travels.”
As Natasha prepared to leave, she glanced toward the kitchen, catching your eye. „Please don’t made a mess while I’m gone.“
You weren't sure what she meant, but you just smiled innocently and nodded. Natasha takes another quick look around and leaves the house to go to work. As you hear the car drive further and further away, you think about what you can do today. Natasha's house all to yourself? You have to make the most of it.
You get up and put your cup in the sink and before one of the maids could take it, you jump in, "if you like, you can go home.."
She looked at you and just smiled as she picked up the cup, "Don't worry, Ms. Y/n it's fine." But you wouldn't be dissuaded "come on! Surely you have things to do? What's the big deal?"
You put on your puppy dog face and take the cup from her again. She looks at you and relents, "okay fine, but I'll be back in a few hours." Before closing the door, she looks back and bows, "Thank you, Ms Y/n"
And now you're storm free. If you're honest, you already had a plan. You pull out your cell phone and text Kate to see if she's up for a game. Knowing her, she agrees and a little later all you could hear was your screams in the living room.
"Go on, Kate!"
The living room echoed with the sounds of virtual warfare and animated banter as you and Kate immersed yourselves in their gaming session. The excitement mounted and soon you’re playful trash talk escalated to full-blown screams.
"Take that! In your face!"
"No way! I totally had you!"
"Admit it, Kate. I'm the gaming champion!"
"Oh, you wish! Prepare for the ultimate comeback!"
The planned two hours turned into seven and one cup ended up being more. A bag of potato chips here and a salad there. Of course, that wasn't enough, and 2 cartoons of pizza were also added.
You had completely lost track of time and didn't even notice when Maria and the others entered the house and stood there in complete shock. As if it wasn't going to get any better, they heard the keys to the front door and a second later a stressed Natasha came in, exhausted from the day
As Natasha entered her penthouse, she noticed that the hallway was already bustling with people. She put her bags down and called Maria.
"What's going on?"
Maria fidgeting nervously, "Um, well, Mrs. Romanoff,..." Natasha sensed the hesitation and raised an eyebrow. "What is it, Maria? Speak up."
Maria was split between coming to your defense and speaking the truth of her bite "It's just that, um, Miss Y/N may have gotten a little carried away with her activities today. The dishes are piling up, well, the living room isn't exactly in its usual state."
Natasha's expression became serious "I see. Thank you for the information."
"I'm sorry if I -"
"It's not your fault. I appreciate your honesty. I'll take care of it."
Maria nodded and Natasha proceeded to confront you. When she arrived in the living room, she understood what Maria meant. It looked disastrous and you were sitting in the middle of it. With wide headphones on and shouting into them as if you couldn't be heard.
You, on the other hand, were so absorbed in your world that you didn't even notice Natasha grabbing the remote control and switching off the TV. You were so baffled and thought it was a mishap that you read it out like that „NO! What the hell!!! Why is now-" As you get up, you collide with Natasha and fall back onto the couch, "Nat! What are you doing here already?"
She, however, was totally unenthusiastic and you could see that in her eyes, "Already? Y/n have you looked at the time? It's 6 pm! How long have you been sitting in front of that thing?" You repeat what she said and look in shock at the big clock on the wall and your heart stops. Fuck. At that moment you remembered everything else and looked around. Your garbage was everywhere, pizza boxes, forks, empty bottles, the sink was full to the brim, stains everywhere, "U-Uhm...I must have forgotten the time..."
Natasha swallowed her nerves and put the remote back down, "looks like it! You have 10 minutes to clean up the mess. I'm going to take a shower, the day hasn't been stressful enough."
Wow, she sounds like your mom when you were little. Why do they always want you to do it right away? You sigh and lean against the couch again to get away from all the trouble, but Natasha doesn't like that, "What do you think you're doing? Come on, clean up."
You rolled your eyes and your mouth was faster than your brain "come on clean up... Why doesn't Maria do it or something..." when you had spoken it, you remained frozen and literally prayed that Natasha hadn't heard. You turn around, heart pounding, and see her staring at you. Now you really have it. "I-I didn't mean that! I-!"
"Undress."
You blink, what did she say?
Natasha's nostrils flared, her chest rose and fell. "Ah, not so chatty now?" she walks up to you and lifted your chin, "what's wrong? Color?“ Despite the situation, your stomach flutters that she could switch her emotions so much and now asked you about your condition, „G-Green, it's just..what if the others come in?"
Natasha in turn, grinned, "Oh sladost (darling), if that's it..don't worry about it. Now turn around, knees, hands on the floor, and ass in the air.“
Your heart fluttered in your chest as you turned around. Lower your hands to the floor and kneel on the ground. You hear Natasha sit down on the couch and seconds later, came the first blow, "I won't stop until your ass is purple," she announced casually and started again, "You don't have to count this time. But you better be prepared to barely be able to sit for the next week."
You try as hard as you can to stay quiet, so as not to make Natasha any angrier and let the spanks wash over you. After 10 strokes, she leans over you and asks in your ear, "Color?" You exhale deeply and with wiggling arms you say, "Green..."
Natasha leaned back again, "stand up and look at me." You do as she said and now stand in front of her with trembling legs. She leans up again, and looks up at you, "Do you trust me?" You didn't know exactly what she meant by that, but you were clear about one thing, "Of course, Mommy. Always." You see her smiling contentedly, "well then. Off to the corner back there, on your knees and hands behind your back." Your eyes widen. That was new. "M-Mommy..why-"
"Don't question me, or your punishment will be even longer."
You let out a shaky breath and angrily do as she said. When you were in position, Natasha finally stood up, "Come in and clean up please."
Your breath caught in your throat. This isn't really happening.
Natasha looked at you as Maria and the others entered the room to clean up the mess you had made. They didn't even glance at you because they knew what was going to happen if. You, however, didn't know and felt totally exposed. You feel your hands grow cold and close your eyes so that you can drown in the shame of strangers.
"I know it's a lot, but try to do it in ten minutes. I'm finally going to take my shower, and you over there! Don't move an inch." She looks at you again to make sure you've understood. You just whisper "Y-Yes, Mommy.." to yourself and then hear her leave the room. You also heard the maids running through the room to remove the dirt. You just wanted to sink into the ground and try to think of something else.
When Natasha came back exactly 10 minutes later, she was proud to see that not only did the room look clean again, but you were still kneeling in your corner. "What a good girl you can be. Come here."
You stood up and your knees were red due the kneeling. Turning around, you took in the room again and looked around for the maids, but found none. You slowly approached Natasha and she welcomed you with her hands on your hips and looked down at you. "Jump."
You knew what that meant and you jump, wrapping your legs around her, thinking you were both going up to her bedroom now. But you were wrong. She angrily moved you to the couch and put you down again. She kissed you and swallowed your moans that you let out. Then she kissed her way down and stood up again. She took one hand and stroked it from your thigh down to your knee and lifted it slightly. She put her tongue on it and licked her way back up to your throbbing spot, not taking her eyes off you for a second. When she finally took your clit in her mouth, she held your thighs down so you couldn't bend too far and you moaned.
"You are fabulous, your cunt is fabulous." She poked her tongue in, and you put your hands over your mouth, afraid that the others were still around. Natasha noticed this and pulled her tongue out of you. She reached under your back and pulled you up to her. She turned you so that your back was now leaning against her chest. She didn't hesitate for a second and immediately filled you with her fingers "Ah! This p-position! It’s ..."
Natasha wraps an arm around you and pulls you even closer, thrusting deeper into you. You leaned forward to somehow release the pressure, but fearing you were mistaken, Natasha turned you and leaned you against the wall with a hard thrust. She attacks your neck and pumped her fingers in and out, if she didn't hold you against the wall, you would surely slide up and down, „It’s t-too r-rough , my back..."
She lifted one thigh so you could put some weight on it and continued with her temp, "come in."
You were preoccupied with yourself, but when you heard, "Ms. Romanoff." your eyes shot open and you saw Maria standing right in front of you with her head down.
Natasha looked at you, "Apologize to her." Your head is spinning and Natasha's fingers just wouldn't stop pumping continuously in your pussy, this time her thumb rubbing wildly against your clit, "tell her you're sorry for the mess and for the fact that she cleaned it up!"
She gave a strong thrust which made you slide up a little and groan, "I'm sorry! Ah-no ..please..I'm..s-sorry! Ah-h!!!" Natasha was still pushing, "for..?"
She can't be serious..you could barely think, "t-the filth..please.."
"Apology accepted, Ms. Y/n, thank you." You managed to open your eyes a little and blurred to see that Maris still had her head bent down.
"Dismissed." natasha told her in a cold tone and Maria left the room again. Now, Natasha looked at you again, "how's it looking? Lesson learned?" You were literally drooling on her shoulder and could almost just nod, "y-yes..I'm sorry..please..I'm almost there-"
Natasha had to chuckle and applied pressure to her hand one last time. You tensed and held onto her shoulder like you would die if you fell off and before you knew it You came all over her, completely staining her and the floor in your wetness.
Natasha had to hold you so you didn't slip out of her arms. She lifted you bridestyle and you leaned against her chest. This time she really is on her way to the bedroom and as she climbs the stairs she looks at you again and speaks softly, "You know they never seen you from the front. The sight is only for me and especially only for you, okay?"
You wanted to say something about how nice you thought the gesture was, but you just couldn't find the strength and fall into a deep sleep.
-
-
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I wannaaaaa
1K notes · View notes
jadeysjasmine · 2 months
Text
Follow the leader - Alexia Putellas x Reader
A/N: in the YOU BOUGHT A DUCK?' universe
Summary: The ducks have imprinted on alexia, seeing her as a maternal figure. based on this
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Alexia had been out of training for a few weeks, having a second surgery in her knee so she was currently recovering. In this time you were training alone, traveling to away games alone while Alexia stayed home, she was being her usual closed off self, dismissing any talk regarding her feelings surrounding the injury.
During these past few weeks Alexia has spent a huge amount of times with the ducks, she had been forming a special bond with them, sending you photos of their daily adventures while you were away.
Even though she was suppose to be resting as much as possible and refrain from unnecessary exercise, her knee had been fine so she decided that on her days off she would build the ducks a more permeant home with a pond in your back garden, much to your dismay, one with more space for them to roam as they were growing exponential amounts. 
You had just  arrived home from training, calling out for your girlfriend but you received no response, you checked all over the house for her, the kitchen, living room and even the bedroom but she was nowhere. Frowning you assumed she must be out with Eli or Alba and forgot to tell you, you make your way to the kitchen, properly setting foot and ready to make your post training meal, as you are chopping some vegetable, you hear a voice, shrugging it off as the tv you continue chopping but then you heard it again, louder and clearer.
"No, Louie. Sit!"
You were confused, the voice coming from your back garden, you head out and see Alexia with treats, trying to teach the ducks how to sit. Huey and Dewey were sitting patiently but Louie was not, more interested in getting the treat that the blonde had in her hand. You were leaning against the door, watching on in amusement as the duck continued to defy the words of your girlfriend, only enraging her further.
"You are not getting a treat until you do as you are told and sit!" 
Quack.
"Do not talk back to me!"
Quack.
"Why can you not listen like your brothers, you get your attitude from your other mami." She huffed, almost jumping out of her skin when you scoffed, not expecting you to be home as the bag of treats fell out of her hand and spilled everywhere, all three ducks taking it as a free for all.
"Hola amor, I did not expect you to be home, how was training?" she questioned, grinning sheepishly as she made her way over to you, trying to press a sweet kiss to your lips, missing and hitting your cheek as you turned your head away from her, the blonde pouted before trying to kiss you again, whining when you stopped her by placing a hand on her chest.
"No no no, no kisses. I don't want you to catch my attitude."
You had to bite back the smile at the frown on her face, trying to keep the fake disappointed act going.
"I did not mean it like that amor, lo siento. I love you and your attitude."
"Oh so I do have an attitude? that is not very nice Ale."
You saw her eyes go wide, trying to back track on her words, she only stopped when she heard you laughing and she realised you were not actually mad, huffing she pushed past you, 3 sets of feet following behind her. You watched her flop on the couch, arms crossed as she tried to act annoyed but you could see right through her, the ducks eventually caught up to her and made home by her feet.
You plopped yourself in her lap, peppering kisses all over her face, you knew that she couldn't stay mad at you for long, you were her kryptonite after all. She was trying really hard not to melt into your touch, softly kissing her lips you whispered, "I'm sorry baby, please forgive me."
"I do not know if I can, maybe you have to earn my forgiveness and make it up to me."
The smug grin on her face and the way her hands roamed your hips gave you a clear indication of what she was after, you decided to play along, "Anything Ale," faux confusing lacing your voice, something you know the blonde loves. Squealing as she picked you up, making a beeline for the bedroom, you started peppering kisses on her neck and jaw, up to her ear, slightly nibbling on her earlobe, hearing a shaky breath coming from your girlfriend. You stopped when you heard multiple footsteps, pulling back from her neck you see the ducks following along.
"Ale."
She hummed in response.
"The ducks, they're following us."
She stopped abruptly, cause the ducks to walk into the back of her legs. Looking around and seeing all three ducks happily sitting at her feet, she opened your bedroom door, getting ready to enter, when the ducks also started to join.
"No, stay."
All three ducks listened to her, sitting in their spot as she closed the door, rolling her eyes as she spoke "Now they listen to me."
You tried to hide your smile at the captain. She threw you unceremoniously on the bed, making a move to get on top of you when you heard a quack. She tried to ignore it at first, meeting your lips in a sloppy kiss but the ducks were persistent and getting louder, groaning she got up and opened the door, they waddled in and straight to Alexia, she looked far from pleased at the interruption but she loved the ducks, clearly as much as they loved her so she wasn't too harsh with them, Instead she left the room with them eager to teach them more tricks.
You on the other hand, left high and dry, you were irked.
----
Later on in the evening, Alexia had made it up to you by showering with you. You both cuddled up on the couch watching shows before she had dragged you out to show you the new tricks she had taught the ducks, you had to admit you were quite impressed at how many tricks she had taught them and how they listened to her every word (minus louie).
She was now cooking dinner, you watched as she navigated your kitchen, ducks following her in a line and that's when it clicked, the ducks have imprinted on Alexia, now seeing her as a maternal figure. You quickly snap a pic, sending it to your group chat, a few of the girls tease her for being so soft, others announce their next visit because 'their children are getting too big'.
Alexia notices you giggling at your phone, completely engrossed in whatever is on your screen, she sneaks over - which is very hard to do with 3 very loud side kicks, and snatches your phone before reading your conversation, you see her eyebrows furrow before she huffs, giving you your phone back.
"I'm not soft."
You had to look away as she stormed off, knowing if she heard you laugh it'd make it worse, the ducks following behind in a perfect line. 
"Only a little bit but Amor they are so cute playing follow the leader."
You heard a loud huff before your bedroom door slammed, unable to hold in your laugh anymore as you were bundled over, clutching your stomach.
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seventeenpins · 9 months
Note
Can we perhaps have something where stepdad Joel makes reader squirt-😗
alskdfjal yes of course this is so perfect :))) thank u for the prompt 💕
practice makes perfect
pairing: stepdad!joel miller x f!reader
word count: 2.5k
summary: follow-up to bad girl. your mom decides to go out one night, leaving you and your stepdad at home alone together. feeling hurt and petty in response to his wife's cheating, he has no qualms with fucking you in your mom's bedroom. you make a mess.
warnings: okay lets go, a lot of fucking (so much fucking), stepcest, infidelity, oral sex (mentioned), unsafe piv, SQUIRTING, dirty talk, fingering, daddy kink, age difference (reader is late 20s, joel is mid-40s), a bit of dom/sub vibes, multiple orgasms, creampie -- let me know if i missed anything?
a/n: i am so completely blown away by the response to my first stepdad!joel fic -- thank you all so much for the comments and reblogs and messages, i fuckin cherish them all. as always, pls feel free to reach out. i hope you enjoy this instalment!
for the first week after joel walked in on you, you were half convinced your entire experience with him had been a fever dream. you hadn't seen all that much of him on account of a big project he's been grumbling about, something about a delayed material delivery that pushed him closer to a deadline than he'd prefer. you were busy yourself, too, going out with friends and spending long hours on some of your freelance work.
there were moments, though, that you'd catch one another and there'd be a glint of something in his eye.
one night, you, your mom, and joel are all sat at the table for a family dinner. your mom has drained her wine glass twice already, and is reaching for the bottle again as she tells you both, "i'm afraid i can't stay for long tonight, i just got a text from vera. sounds like she's having a bad night and needs a friend."
joel makes a sound like a snort that he follows up with a cough. "poor vera," he says, "she's been havin' an awful rough time lately, hasn't she? it's like she's inconsolable every other day."
"yes," your mom says, "she has been going through so much."
joel stares at her for a moment and you almost expect him to challenge her on it, but then he lets out a breath and smiles.
"you're such a good friend, baby," he tells her and she grins before turning back to her glass of wine and taking a big gulp. joel fixes you with a knowing stare and smirks. you both know she's not going to vera's.
after she finishes picking at her plate, she announces that she needs to get ready and dips out of the room.
"so, vera, huh?" you ask and joel snorts.
"can't believe your momma forgot she made me follow that woman on instagram months ago. according to her recent posts, she's currently travelling through iceland."
you roll your eyes and laugh, "seriously?" you ask, and joel nods.
"you'd think she'd be a better liar by this point," you say, and joel smiles but winces a little too.
it's not a game. you know it's not a game. just because you're used to your mother's antics doesn't mean it isn't new to joel, and he's only known for certain for a week that she's been unfaithful to him and that's gotta hurt. despite whatever's going on between you two, you know joel's heart is aching.
you're pretty sure you've just poured salt in the wound.
"i'm sorry, joel," you say, suddenly embarrassed, "i didn't mean to- i don't know. i didn't mean to make fun of it. i know you're dealing with... a lot."
joel shrugs and relaxes, "ah, it's alright sweetheart. just something i need to deal with. but you've done nothing wrong."
"okay," you say, and it's only then that you realise how close you've been leaning towards one another. at the sound of your mother's heels on the stairs, joel clears his throat and the two of you put more distance between yourselves.
your mother's voice carries down the hallway. "will you two be alright without me? i know you haven't had a chance to spend much time together."
"i'm sure we'll manage." you say, and joel smirks.
"she's a real good girl," he says, "'m lovin these opportunities to get to know her better."
"i'm glad to hear it," your mom says, and smiles between the two of you as you do your best not to choke.
"ya look great, baby," joel says, eyebrows raised as he looks your mom up and down. "cute dress. that makeup's gonna get ruined with your face masks, though, huh?"
she blushes and waves him off, "you know i like to get all get dolled up for my girls night," she says, "i can wipe the makeup off later."
"i'm sure you will," he says, and though you can hear the edge to it, you don't think your mom can. he presses a kiss to her cheek.
"i might be home late," she tells you both, "don't wait up!"
"no worries, baby," joel says, "in fact, if vera's having such a hard time, maybe you should make it a sleepover"
your mom grins and it's dazzling and heartbreaking. it's moments like this that you can see exactly why so many men have fallen in love with her. "that's a great idea, honey," she says, "i think i'll do just that! i'll see you both in the morning."
with a swish of her hair, your mom has left through the front door. joel groans, folding forward and resting his head in his hands, letting out a low "fucking jesus" before he sits back and composes himself. he lets out a deep sigh and then turns to look at you and shakes his head, closing his eyes, resigned.
you're not sure what's appropriate. you nearly reach out to deliver a comforting pat to his hand, but change your mind at the last moment, instead batting your hand out like a cat's paw and then recoiling.
joel's eyes weren't, apparently, closed. he sees your indecisive gesture, frowns, and gives you a look, before laughing. "you're okay, sweetheart," he says, his voice still tinged with the rumble of laughter, "it's all a lot to deal with. but i'm managing. and guess what?"
"what?" you ask.
"we've got a whole night to ourselves. just the two of us."
"oh yeah?" you ask, and you suddenly feel hot all over. joel's staring at you with such a darkness in his eyes that you're certain you're already wet.
"'f that's something you'd like, that is." joel smiles and it's almost unexpected the way he checks in with you, that he still has the capacity to focus on your needs. in his position, you might just be out to take what you could get, wholly and selfishly.
he's so... considerate. fuck he turns you on.
"i've got an idea," you say, and you take him by the hand and lead him upstairs.
you can feel his body stiffen when you stand in the doorway to your mother's bedroom. "you want me to fuck you in here?" he asks, and you can't parse his tone.
you're worried that you've gone too far, that despite the filthy way he fucked you only a few days ago, you've hit a barrier you should never have crossed, but you nod. before you can ask is it too much? he's growling "yes" and dragging you into the room.
he pulls you into a kiss, frenzied and feral, his teeth biting at you, nipping at your lips and cheeks, laving kisses down your throat. before you know it, you're both fully naked, clothes littered all over the floor of the room and joel's teeth are gently biting down on one of your nipples as he rocks his hips against yours.
"are you gonna let me take care of you? gonna let daddy take care of you?" he asks, "use your words."
"yes, daddy," you tell him.
"ya know," he tells you, running a hand down your sternum and resting between your breasts, feeling the rise and fall of your breathing, "there have been a few times i've gotten home late these past few days, and when i walked past your bedroom door i could swear i heard the sweetest little moans."
you blush and look away from him.
"uh-uh," he says, tipping your chin up, making you look at him, "were you thinkin' bout me?"
you nod. "yes daddy" it's the truth, after all.
"good girl," he smiles, "thank you for being honest with me. now i already know you're a dirty girl, what with all your naughty videos. and i know you're a fuckin' slut the way you spread your legs so easily for me."
"yes daddy," you echo.
"but what i don't know," he says, and his voice is velvet and dangerous, his pupils blown with hunger, "is just how many surfaces in this room i can bend you over and fuck you till you're so cock drunk you can't speak."
your eyebrows shoot up and your jaw drops.
"i ain't even started with you, honey," he smiles, and he drops to his knees.
it's a fucking marathon.
he eats you out at the foot of your mothers bed till you're panting, his lips glistening with your slick and he makes you feel so good you're certain you're gonna die.
then, your positions are reversed, joel trying his best to plant his feet into the carpet so he doesn't melt off the bed altogether, while you kneel before him. he fucks up into your throat, delighting in every vibration your moans and swallows provide.
soon, you're pressed up against the dresser, your fingers gripping onto the drawer handles as he fucks into your pussy from behind.
then against the bookshelf. the closet doors. there's a moment where joel gets closer than he'd like to coming and he has you grab onto the floor lamp as he eats your pussy again on bended knee, only this time you're standing up and trying your best not to crumple onto him when he makes you come a fourth and a fifth time.
you're starting to get overstimulated. no, you are overstimulated, but it's in the most oddly delicious way. joel has you folded over the foot of your mom's bed, your knees on an ottoman, the rest of you pressed against the mattress, fists groping at sheets, holding on for dear life.
it's a good angle, hell, it's the perfect angle. not only does it feel incredible, it helps prop your ass up to a height that allows joel's huge cock to fuck you deeper without too much more effort, gripping your hips as he pounds into you. the best part, though, is that you're both at the perfect angle to see yourselves in the full length mirror.
"jesus christ, baby," joel is saying, "you see how deep i am? feel how deep i am? pussy's so tight around this cock. can almost feel myself in here," he says, and presses two fingers against your tummy.
you moan, using every ounce of strength you have left to keep your ass in the air and take joel's cock so nicely.
"it feels so good, daddy," you sob, "it's so big, making me come so many times. fuck, i can feel it building- it feels so good, you make me feel so good-"
"yes, baby," he growls, "let go for me, let me feel you come stretched so pretty 'round daddy's dick."
"fuck, daddy," you whine, because you realise it's a different sensation that's been building and even though you know what it is, you've never quite reached an orgasm like this before. "i'm gonna come, daddy! i'm gonna fuckin come-"
"shit, baby," he says as he starts to feel hot wet spurts of liquid splashing out of you, "oh fuck, you gonna wet my cock with your cum?"
you're screaming now, so fucked out and overstimulated
"oh, shit honey, yes-" joel shouts, a man possessed, as he pulls his cock out from you and rubs furiously at your clit, moaning loudly as you gush all over his hand. "oh, i'm gonna need more of that," he groans, and you can't find words to argue. he fucks back into you, hitting that same spot, finding that same pressure.
"could fuckin drink this, baby," he says, "comin' all over my cock like the fuckin whore you are. look at us, baby, look in the mirror and don't you dare close your fucking eyes."
you obey. it's a struggle to get your eyes to even focus, but when you do, you're sent over the edge again and again and again.
the two of you look so fucking good, the jiggle of your ass, the angles of your bodies and the way you slot together, the tan of joel's arms, his muscles, his control, the silver of his hair.
his breathless mantra "good girl, good girl, fuckin' take it, such a good girl-," as you take everything he gives you and more.
he finds a rhythm for fucking every last drop out of you. he'll give you a few harsh, deep thrusts and then pull out and rub your pussy till you aren't gushing around him anymore. then he'll slap your pussy with the head of his cock, making you shudder before he stuffs it back in and builds you up again.
your thighs are drenched and the wetness down your legs is cooling. you've lost count of the number of times he's made you come like this, but finally, you're shaking so hard you can't bear it and his thrusts are getting staggered.
he's breathless when he manages to ask, "you want me to fill up this lil pussy? fill it full of daddy's cum?"
"yes, yes, yeesss-" you beg, and you watch your reflection as joel's hips stutter a final time and he lets out a strangled groan as he loses control and fucks his release into you.
the second after he comes, he collapses onto you but you're so weak and fuck-drunk you collapse, too. joel rolls off of you so you can breathe, but then both of you are laughing. you're disgusting, covered in sweat and spit and squirt and cum, but joel dips a finger into your pussy and then licks up the combination of juices.
seeing your awed expression, joel shrugs and then smiles, a little embarrassed. "just needed to taste ya like this," he says, and it's incredibly endearing.
after a few more minutes of laying around in messy, sticky comfort, joel gets up. and then- "shit".
"what's wrong?" you ask as you look up at him and he's- laughing?
you look down at what he's looking at -- the ottoman. you've drenched it entirely. it's at least three shades darker than it was to begin with, and reeks of sex.
"well," you say, "that's not ideal."
"guess i'll have to buy your momma a new one," he says, rubbing against his temples and barking out a short laugh. then he leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your lips, and one to your forehead.
"you go have a shower," he tells you, "i'll take care of this mess, and then let's get some snacks," he winks, and you smile.
he starts to back out of the room when you call to him, "so, mom's gonna be gone all night-" you start to say, tentative.
"you already askin' for round two?" he asks, incredulous.
"if we're calling all of that-" you gesture around the room, "round one? then yeah. i'm asking for round two."
"dirty girl," he laughs, "you're fuckin insatiable!"
"that's not a no-" you point out.
"no, it's not a no," he says. "let's refuel. rehydrate. and get right back to it."
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firstfirerebel · 8 months
Text
𝕳𝖎𝖘
Sumary: Tom Riddle is obsessed with reader and won't tolerate her being somewhere else than his side (Reader is against the hate on Muggles or Muggle-Born wizards)
Pairing: yandere Adult!Tom Riddle/Voldemort x fem! reader
Warnings: Dark content, obsession, mention of the three Unforgivable Curses, implied kidnapping, death, yandere, toxic behavior
Time: First Wizarding War (meaning Voldemort/Tom is still a normal man)
English is not my native language!
I DO NOT SUPPORT OR ROMANTICIZE YANDERE BEHAVIOR!!!
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"Why won't you just understand that all I want to do is create a new world, a better one. One were you, and I will rule together!"
"But I don't want that! In fact, I don't even want to be near you! I'll never join you nor support you. Just give up already and let me free!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was another day in the Malfoy Manor where you were captured by none other than the dark lord himself. And another day, where you just hoped to escape or die. Sounds harsh? Listen to your story first...
You have known Tom since your Hogwarts time. You weren't in the same house but in the same year, and even though you weren't close, you did happen to have some lessons together. Never you would've considered him a friend. He was just a classmate who sometimes helped you with potions, and in your free time, you sometimes met him in the libary by coincidence, but that was it.
Yeah, you did find him attractive, but you would have never thought to date him or something like that. After all, he always wanted to be alone and didn't like company. You also preferred being alone, to be honest. Still, he somehow scared you from the beginning. His eyes hold no emotions, but in his actions and his aura, all you felt or saw was pure hate. Tom didn't talk about his past, but he didn't have to for you to figure out that it must have been no good one.
Once you were in sixth grade, attacks on muggle-born students happened, and in the end, Myrtle, who was a friend of yours, was killed.
Yeah, she was very difficult , but she didn't mean any harm towards anyone. Besides that, she was bullied by so many students that you just felt pity for her. You were also bullied in your first years at hogwarts until the students stopped out of nowhere. Since then, you have had problems with being social. Most people who were close with you ended up using you for their own benefits or saw you as their therapist or something like that.
Okay, Myrtle was known for being over sensitive, but still, if people knew she would cry because of mean comments, then why make them? She was in her third year when she died, and she only flew to the girls' toilet because Olive Hornby made fun of her again, which made you more sad about her death. It's not like she chose to have glasses. What was wrong with some people?
In the end, Riddle accused Hagird of being responsible for her death. Only you and Proffesor Dumbledore were convinced that it couldn't have been Hagrid. He was way too nice and kind-hearted for such a terrible crime as murder. Though you didn't think it was Tom either.
But it didn't matter. Hagrid was suspended, and that was the end of it.
Since that time, you didn't trust Tom Riddle anymore. He was the one who made everyone believe that Hagird was guilty. And somehow, since the incident, Tom's aura has become even more intimidating and dark. At least that's how it felt to you...
Once you graduated, you didn't hear of him again, which didn't bother you at all. You lived a peaceful life for a long time. You loved your job. You had true friends. You could do your hobbies. And sometimes you even went on a few dates.
But, if it would have stayed that way, you wouldn't be at Voldemorts' side against your will, would you?
The day that ruined your life was a rainy day. It wasn't too cold nor too warm, so you decided to take a walk in the nearby woods. You loved to spend your time there. All the creatures and plants fascinated you every time without fail. Sometimes, you even saw unicorns, which felt like a miracle everytime Besides, it was one of the last peaceful places left.
War would soon come. It was only a matter of time. Everybody knew that. Maybe you only had two months left, or you still got two years. No one knew except the ones on Voldemorts side.
At that time, you only knew that 'The Dark Lord' was a user of the dark arts. And he hated Muggles and Muggle-Borns. Which was enough for you to despite him. Dark magic was never something you approved, and you didn't care about the blood status of anyone. What mattered to you was always the person.
Usually, the woods were filled with life and joy, but that day was different. The forest looked intimidating from the outside, and you even thought about going back home.
Sadly, you didn't listen to your inner voice. But, it wouldn't have changed your fate...
Once you entered it, you didn't hear the happy cheers of the birds like always. And you didn't see any nifflers running by or other creatures in general. Something was definitely wrong.
But you continued to walk, which would soon turn out to be a fatal mistake. As soon as you reached the river, that was in the forest, you realized why everything was so different than usual.
Death Eaters had chased and killed a Muggle-Born witch with her family. They were on a camping trip, as you could tell from the scenery. But there was still a girl, most likely two or three years old, still alive.
Without a second thought, you hid behind a big tree and some bushes around it.
It seemed like the Death Eaters didn't know what to do with her. Maybe she wasn't part of the plan? At first, you thought that this was not an important mission for them, but then you saw Bellatrix. She was very well known as Voldemorts' right hand. She personally learned dark magic from him and was definitely the most loyal Death Eater there ever was. So this must be a really important matter.
You couldn't stand her guts and wanted nothing more than to just slap her even if you didn't know her in person. Dark magic wasn't something you supported. But still, you couldn't deny that she was dangerous and powerful. Her madness didn't lower that fact.
Since dying wasn't on your to-do lost today, you ran away as fast as you could. Since they were arguing so loud, they didn't hear you. Of course, you wanted to help the little girl, but it was simply impossible to get her without getting caught. And against a whole troup of Death Eaters with one being BELLATRIX, you didn't stand a chance.
But luck wasn't on your side...
As you ran away from the horrible scene, you ran into a Death Eater. They wore their typical black clothes and their mask was on, so you didn't see who it was.
Before you could grab your wand, you heard an angry mumbled 'stupor'. You fell onto the ground and blacked out.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When you awoke, you didn't dare to open your eyes. After all, you got caught by a death eater, so you being alive was a miracle. You didn't hear any voices around you. It also wasn't cold and wet around you, so being locked up in a cellar wasn't the case as well...
Beneath you was a comfortable mattress. It was soft and made you want to fall asleep on it. But what the hell was this all about?!
If you're caught by the bad guys, you normally don't wake up in a soft bed. Did they bring you back home? No, that would be too risky. Maybe they wanted some information, but you weren't really someone well known in the wizarding world.
Patiently, you waited a few more minutes, but still not even the slightest noise. So you opened your eyes.
You were in a dark room. The main colors were black and dark green. Black wardrobes and black walls. The bed was made of black wood, but the sheets were dark green, the big carpet on the floor as well. No one was with you in this room. Desperately, you wanted to know where you were. From the colors, you would have guessed that it was a Slytherin Dormitory in Hogwarts. But kidnappers don't bring you to your old school!
Scared you inspected the room once again. Nothing was familiar...
You took a deep breath and stood up. If you would die, fine, but as long as you had the slightest chance of escape you would take it.
The carpet felt also really expensive beneath your feet. By the way, your kidnappers were so nice to pull off your shoes before laying you into bed...
Everything in this room seemed to be just made for this specific room. Which frightened you even more.
Suddenly, the door was opened, and you saw a pretty woman (walking down the street 🤣) in the doorframe. She was slim and tall, had long blonde hair that was tied up in a bun. Her tight dress was rose gold with a black cloak over it. All in all, she looked like a wealthy woman. Her face was pretty as well, but she looked like she got a dung under her nose. Weird.
"Get up and follow me, My Lady," her cold and clear voice told you.
"Uhm, I'm not your Lad -" but she was already on her way to your goal. You had no clue where it was, but following her was better than sitting around, right?
"I know this must be really confusing, but our Lord will explain it to all of us soon. I was just told to get you and call you that. Now, please, don't make this harder for us than it already is,"
You managed to catch up to her. Now you also saw that her eyes were ice blue. Matching her cold voice.
"Who are you?" you asked softly. Kowing her name could be a good hint to where you were.
"Narcissa Black, soon to be Narcissa Malfoy," the woman didn't look at you for one second, her eyes were focused on the walls. So you were still in the claws of the death eaters. Family Black was well known for their puryity, not a family you would have gotten along with.
The corridor was huge by the way. Dark colors still dominating. Only the chandelier was white. Did this belong to one person or was it the headquarters of Voldemort and his minions or what? Instead of getting awnsers you only got more questions as you walked after Narcissa.
Downstairs. A few steps upstairs again. Left. Left again. Right. Straight forward. The second right.
Was this a house or a Labyrinth?! How were you supposed to find your way in here? You even got lost in Digeon Ally!
But after what felt like an internity, you both reached a large black table, people gathered around it. A tall man stood up from his chair as he heard you two enter. As he turned around, you saw your old classmate Tom Riddle, but if he was here, he wouldn't help you. If he became a death eater, he was behind after everything you swore to fight. He wasn't an ally or a friend anymore. He was a danger and a threat to you and many innocent people who weren't here.
You tried to hide behind Narcissa. After all, she was the only person who seemed at least a little trustworthy, and she was another woman. Maybe she knew how unsafe you felt because mostly men were in this room. The only other woman was a mad Bellatrix, never ever you would trust her.
"Ah, there they are. Come in, " Tom spoke. His voice had changed, and it was more intimidating than it was before.
You didn't move an inch, but Narcissa started to move forward. Being all alone without someone to hide behind was more scarry, so you followed her, but you were still behind her.
"Oh no, don't be afraid. No one here will even dare to glare at you, my dear. They knew the punishment would be worse than death," You couldn't recognize Tom anymore. The hate in his presence, his voice, his appearance, everything scared you. Back in school, you didn't fear him, at least not for his house or his roots. Just because he was a Slytherin, it didn't mean that he was evil, but now? His opinions were completely different than yours, and this was not a stupid novel of the stereotype enemies to lovers cause he was just plain and simple wrong with his thoughts on muggleborn or muggles in general.
[Funfact: I don't get the hype on this topic, see, for being autistic I got bullied for many years and than reading a story about two people hating each other's guts and than falling for each other just feels wrong for me, you can read whatever you want ofc, this was just my unpopular opinion]
Still, you hid behind Narcissa, but as she tried to go towards a man with long blonde hair and her crazy sister, you felt completely defenseless. The only person you used to know seemed to be the head of everything here, and Narcissa wasn't at your side anymore. Sadly, Tom saw your fear. He went towards you and pulled you in an unwanted hug. Softly, he petted your hair and whispered sweet nothings. As soon as this horror hug ended, he smiled at you and turned towards the others.
"If anything should happen to her, everyone will be held responsible! You know the punishment, now go! We are done here!" As the last word fell, everyone disapparated, and only you and him were left.
And then you realized it. If he could order the death eaters around, he must be the dark lord himself. Tom Riddle, your old classmate, was Voldemort.
You backed away from him but regretted it soon. Tom didn't take rejection good...
"Why are you scared? I won't harm you. In fact, I am the one who has kept you safe since I saw you!"
"Are you mad?!" You yelled back into his already mad face. Wrong choice again. In full rage he stormed through the room and kicked everything in his way. Chairs and even the whole table practically flew through the room.
"Who protected you from those bullies back in Hogwarts?! Who kept you safe from all filthy boys who just wanted to break your heart?! Who killed the mudblood Myrtle so you were safe from her?!"
So Dumbledore was right... Tom opened the chamber of secrets all those years ago. And killed your friend.
"Myrtle was my friend! I never asked for your personal protection, Tom!"
Somehow that calmed him down! Yep, that man was a complete psychopath...
"But you didn't have to, my dear", he ran towards you and cupped your cheek while looking into your eyes.
"Keeping you safe will always be my priority. I loved you the moment I laid eyes on you and I knew that I would always protect you. Look around, here in our mansion you will always be safe. No one will ever harm you again. We'll be safe here! After I've won this war you and I can live here in peace. Just imagine it, I'll make us so many horcruxes that we won't ever die. Here we will raise our kids and they'll never go through the pain of being an orphan like I was", pain and hate was in his voice at the simple thought of 'death' and 'orphan'. But having a family with this insane man? Hell nah, you'd flee the moment you got the chance!
"I know now this is scary for you, and you might think of escaping, but this whole mansion is surrounded by death eaters, the moment you even think of fleeing you'll be brought to your room and trust me, I know how to punish or torture someone so that no mistace will ever happen again",
And that's how you ended up here. Behind you was the man that claimed to love you fast asleep. Yet he was the one who made you go through all of this. Most traumas you had were because of his action. If this was love, than you could already drown in it.
You had no idea if you could ever escape or if even the try of escaping was a good idea. This man wasn't well known for his kindness or his patience.
Maybe playing along would make it easier, but would your mental health take that well? Or would that make him do worse things 'out of love'?
Still, you rethought your first actions towards Tom, trying to figure out what made his obsession start. Was it your look? Your hairstyle? Your body language?
Or was it just being unlucky?
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causeimhappinesss · 1 year
Text
On his backseat (Joel Miller x reader)
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Warning: smut, age gap (reader in her 20s), unprotected sex, slight breeding kink + wrap your biscuit, please
Disclaimer: English isn't my native language (I'm french), so you can correct me if you spot some mistakes :)
Bonus: a meme at the end
*
All day long, a crazy tension had built up between you and Joel, at first for a silly little thing, but he refused to agree with you, when you were absolutely right. Then, the tension had built up so much between the two of you, that it had metamorphosed and soon, the older man's hands had been wandering, though discreet.
“I'm going to go. I'm leaving you and don't kill each other!” Ellie joked.
With these words, she slammed the door of the car you had repaired and leaved the garage you had just entered. You would even say that she was running away from you, undoubtedly uncomfortable because of the tension that had gradually built up in the car, but which she probably didn't imagine would be sexual. From time to time, when Ellie was reading one of his comics, he had kept his hand on your thigh, which he stroked, knowing what effect it had on you. She had preferred to leave as soon as possible and give you time to explain yourself with Miller, while she rested in the house where you had taken up residence for two days, the time to search this cute town from top to bottom. Once she was inside the mansion, you turned your attention to your lover... Of course, Ellie didn't know the true nature of your relationship: friend by day, sexfriend by night.
"Well... would it kill you to admit I was right about that damn alarm?"
"You weren't right. We should have been more careful..." he growled.
"Oh yeah, sure, and spend three hours on an alarm system to disconnect it, when it doesn't even take us ten minutes to get all the weapons back." you retorted, sarcastically.
Miller grumbled, but the sound of it brought a smile to your face, because the old man always made you laugh one way or another. Then he met your eyes and a glint of mischief flashed in his eyes. You slid a hand over his chest and felt his heartbeat under your palm; a sensation you'll never forget. His lips parted, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes to know the moment. Your fingers slid over his warm skin in gentle caresses as you admired the masculine beauty of his body. Then your phalanges slid lower and traced the contours of his abs. A sigh escaped from his lips, which pushed you to unbuckle his seat belt, then the one holding his pants, which you made fall. Its excitation was felt, a bump formed in its boxer, that you touched with malice, before releasing it from this confined space.
A wave of heat ran through you as you wrapped your hand around his member, feeling the velvety texture of his skin. You began slow and gentle back and forth movements, under the spell of the intensity present in his eyes. Joel gasped, so that his hands clutched your hips as you increased the pressure in my movements. Your free hand explored the skin of his chest, then his thighs, until you felt his breath catch. You peppered him with kisses until his desire stretched like a bow.
"Baby..." he growled, sliding a hand into your hairline.
Your heart pounded against your rib cage as you knelt on the car seat, staring at your partner. Your fingers kept on caressing him skillfully, being the source of the accumulation of pleasure in his belly. Slight grunts broke through the barrier of his lips and made your hair stand on end. God knows how beautiful he was, that expression of desire portrayed on his face, eyebrows furrowed, sweat beading his gray brows. Again, you stared at his body, admiring his chiseled abs and broad chest, before lingering on the throbbing erection before you. Then, you wrapped his length in your wet mouth. You felt him harden further and moan in response to your movements, so much so that his hips undulated. Your tongue ran along his member, while your lips worked their magic around him. His hands tangled in your hair as you titillated him, encouraging his pleasure, so that he struggled to contain himself. Your tongue played with his red tip and his whole member throbbed in your mouth, as if he was already approaching orgasm. Yet you knew Joel wouldn't accept such a thing; he was always holding back to make you cum first.
"Fuck... You're going to drive me crazy..."
Soon, you could no longer contain your desire and you gave in to your desires. You climbed onto his thighs and felt the heat radiate between your boiling bodies. You undulated your hips over his boner and placed kisses on his neck, before you rubbed yourself on one of his muscular thighs. Your movements became frantic and desperate, as if the world was about to end another time.
The warm night air washed over your skin, but the coolness inside the car was gentle. Your heart was pounding, a delicious mixture of desire and fear... The fear of getting caught with your hand in the cookie jar. Joel wrapped his strong arms around your waist and pressed his lips to your neck. You moaned softly, your body aching deliciously from his touch. Your hands clutched at his shirt, pulling him to feel his body closer to yours. His lips follow yours in a fiery kiss. Electric sparks flew through you with each touch and caress.
Dizzy with desire, you pulled him into the backseat. His hands peeled away layers of you as you mimicked him between feverish kisses. Soon you were naked, on your knees, with your butt against him, giving him a magnificent view of your pussy. With his experienced fingers, he teased your clitoris, with which he played, while stroking your breasts. You were already wet and ready for him, but you felt no shame. Sex was one of the pleasures still present on this earth, especially when you were on the road like you. And your body knew full well that you were meant to fuck with him, it worked so well between the two of you... The pleasure climbed and your first moans of pleasure echoed through the cabin, as your fingers gripped the fabric of the backseat.
"Joel..."
He also knew what rhythm to take with your clit; he was playing with your emotions and your body. When he felt you on the verge of orgasm, he stopped and you squealed. Before you knew it, his warm tongue slid along your labia, drawing the contours of your clitoris, then one of his fingers brushed the entrance to your vagina. Another moan of pleasure forced its way through your lips and you nearly collapsed forward, but her strong arms held your thighs back.
"You taste like honey... I could eat your pussy all night..."
Your heart was pounding, banging against your ribcage violently, so you were begging him to make you reach nirvana. Without delay, the orgasm hit you full force, your legs shook and the euphoria poured into your veins in the form of powerful waves of shivers.
Then, with his hands on your hips, his cock pushed into you, drawing a moan of pleasure from you as he grunted. You were so tight and hot that he threw his head back for two seconds, his jaw clenched, and then he watched your two sexes joined together; an erotic sight that made him shudder. It was as if your pussy had been molded for his thick, long cock. A perfection he relished and enjoyed as often as possible. Finally, he moved inside you, a touch that filled you with more desire, made you quiver and tremble. Nothing else mattered at that moment; just you and the sweet union of your bodies. Your bodies moved together in perfect rhythm, the sound of your labored breaths filling the air of the car. The sound of wet skin slapping accompanied your song of pleasure, which you tried to restrain, to avoid Ellie from hearing you, just in case.
"Oh shit... Joel... Don't stop..."
"I don't plan on stopping..." he whispered in your ear, in a suave voice.
You held on to this moment and let his love consume you in your wholeness. You were enjoying the moment, knowing that it won't last forever. For now, you were loving the delicious sensation he was producing in your lower abdomen. His powerful hands, anchored on your waist, drew you closer to him, your back against his chest, in a carnal embrace.
Without ever ceasing his sinful movements inside me, his lips traveled the delicate skin of your neck, your faces illuminated by the moonlight, resulting in a romantic and intimate atmosphere...
"Fill me up... Don't pull out..." you moaned.
"Oh God..." he growled. He was aware that cumming inside you was a bad idea, it wasn't like you were taking birth control, but the idea of his cum filling your hot, wet pussy amplified his pleasure. He was already picturing you with a nice round belly once you got back to Tommy's.
The excitement of getting caught fed the burning fire in your veins. You made the moment last as long as possible, until you both climaxed with moans. Your pussy pulsed around his thick cock and milk him dry. Your heart was pounding, beads of sweat ran down your skin and you were shaking. His seed spilled into you as his hot breath rushed down your neck.
*
Sorry, Ellie... For the backseat you're gonna spend another bunch of hours on.
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My Ko-fi: betrayedwriter
My AO3: BetrayedWriter
My Instagram: carolinemertz_
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zivazivc · 2 months
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Sorry if this has already been asked before but why did the band break up? And did they break up on decent terms? Do they still talk to each other sometime?
It has been asked before, I just never answered jshfbdjcbh I'm still piecing everything together and stuff is changing or getting tweaked all the time, so I'm always super hesitant about answering these types of questions, afraid that people will take whatever I say as the final answer. So basically what I'm going to answer now will already contradict what I told some people already. And maybe in the future the story might go a little differently too (although I'm pretty satisfied with the current events)
Uhhh, get ready for a long info dump. I didn't expect I'd write this much...
Floyd basically stayed with the band for 8 years (from 14 till 22) and got pretty messed up in the process. The rest of the guys are all quite older than him so I guess I could say they were more responsible, or at least had a better understanding of their own limits (also they grew up in this kind of environment or grew up aware of it, while Floyd was oblivious and naive about all of it) and while they do get drunk and do drugs often, none of them are really dependent on them. They are also pretty good judges of character and know how to avoid trouble. Floyd on the other hand drove in with no breaks and constantly got himself in trouble that the rest (mostly Les) had to drag him out of. He also developed bipolar during this time (in my story Floyd constantly fluctuates between being saturated and being desaturated because of this) and his manic and depressive episodes started getting out of hand after his teenage years. (None of them are aware it's a mental disorder that's making him act so out of character.)
Floyd was becoming miserable because of this and all of his problems pilling up, and started blaming Les for the way he was. Les never argued this which only fueled Floyd to blame him more. In the end he was getting so frustrated and irritable that Floyd constantly tried starting arguments with him, even putting him down and getting aggressive at times because Les gets very unresponsive and closed off during personal conversations (guy is a giant onion of suppressed trauma that Floyd is hellbent on peeling open).
Eventually there was one fight too many, terrible things were said, some objects flew through the air, and Floyd walked out (or Hed kicked him out, I haven't decided yet) with the promise of going home and never seeing them again.
So, yeah, it was very messy and Floyd was the primary asshole, even though he's not really to blame either...
But Floyd didn't make it home (was too scared to sneak through Bergen Town to get to the tree (i don't think i can judge him for that either)) and he just returned to the reckless lifestyle, this time without anyone being there to keep him safe. So if he was messed up before, this is the time period where he got absolutely fucked up. This is also when he got heavily addicted to sour worms. And when he chronically slept around (half the time just to get offered free worms or have somewhere to sleep, other times because he was having manic episodes and was feeling hypersexual). (This is also potentially the period when he had the two eggs with that techno troll, but I'm still thinking if I want that to be canon to the story or not.) During this time he also grew to become very anxious and his self-confidence went to shit when he was being himself.
Then after about three years of that, he bumped into Les at some party. He wanted to dodge him out of shame but Les grabbed his arm and manhandled him outside to talk. Floyd felt like shit about the way they had split up and tried apologizing for all the stuff he had said and done to Les, but Les wasn't having any of that because he wasn't angry at Floyd, he was just worried about him. Les is also insanely empathetic like Floyd, and he knew that Floyd never really meant any of it, and that he was just looking for an outlet when he was hurting. Also he does think he is to blame for the way Floyd ended up.
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Les wanted to know why he didn't go home like he had said (because that was the only reason Les had even let him walk out in the first place). A few exchanged words later and Floyd broke down telling him all the awful things he'd done, and Les promised to help him, feeling insanely guilty. Floyd wondered if he was allowed back in the band but Les made it clear that the band wasn't good for him and that he was never taking him back. Instead Les helped him go though rehab. I don't think trolls have those institutions (or at least not many are aware of them or how they work (I'm sorry but I refuse to believe the Trolls world has internet and cellphones, Mountrageons can keep that for themselves lol)), so it was more or less just Les finding Floyd a job and his own place to stay in the middle of bumfuck nowhere where he had no option but to detox, and constantly checking up on him to make sure he was doing okay. During this time they grew pretty close again. Or maybe the better term would be that Les slowly started putting his walls down again.
Hed needed a while to warm up to Floyd again. He's almost as protective of Les as Les is of him, and he resented Floyd for the way he had treated him.
Flea is pretty phlegmatic when it comes to any sort of arguing or drama. He was casual about seeing Floyd again, they were never super close anyway.
And Liv, she left the band when she and Hed broke up (haven't decided if that happened before or after Floyd left), so Floyd didn't get to see her again after bumping into Les at the party. And I haven't thought yet if they'd ever meet again somewhere later in life. But if they did, I think they'd both be happy to see each other.
Anyway...
Floyd managed to detox and successfully kept the job for about a year, but then he became manic again and messed it all up. After that he returned to his nomadic lifestyle, but he never fell as hard as those three years again. In my story Floyd's life is a constant cycle of getting his life together and fucking it up and booking to the next place. And he and Les are trapped in a never-ending cat and mouse game where they're both trying to fix each other.
So, uh, Les and Floyd are still very close and see each other somewhat often...
(sometimes monthly, sometimes yearly)
Yeah...
I am so fucking obsessed with them I'm gonna hurl. Please take this song before I combust:
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houseofanticipation · 8 months
Text
You're at the club. Your friend has abandoned you to drink alone. You saw her grinding on some guy earlier, and you guess (correctly) that she's off in some corner somewhere getting railed. You sigh, wishing you could be so lucky.
I watch you take a long sip of your drink. Good. The stuff I put in there is strong, but I still need you to take a few good swallows, or you'll just be sloppy, blackout drunk. Still fun for me, but not what I'm looking for tonight. You set the drink on the bar and turn out to the dance floor. Maybe my little cocktail has given you the confidence to shake your ass a bit, or maybe you're looking for some fresh air. It doesn't really matter, because as soon as you try to take a step you stumble and begin to fall. I'm there in an instant, steadying you, holding you upright as your knees buckle, getting your arm over my shoulder. "Hey now," I say, "looks like someone had too much to drink. Let me get you to somewhere you can sit down."
I give your breast a squeeze as I lead you. it's nice and soft, just like I thought it'd be, and you don't say a word in protest. That means it's working. I take you to the back of the club, where the men's bathroom is. By now I'm basically dragging you, your toes sliding along the floor, your head hanging limp in front of you. I have to put you down for a moment to prop open the door, and the sticky, sour-smelling grime of the club floor leaves a residue on your legs and the ass of your dress. That's fine. You'll be a lot messier by the time the night is through.
This particular bathroom is the reason I chose this club. There's an area where two counters of sinks face each other, each with a huge wall mirror above it. I lift you up to sit on one of the counters, propping you up in the corner so you stay upright. I check your eyes—a little sluggish, but responsive. Perfect. I turn your head to face the other mirror. I want you to see everything. I hike up your dress, and I'm surprised to see you aren't wearing panties. Even more surprising, your pussy is already soaking wet. I look into your eyes again, and I can almost imagine there's something in them. Something hungry.
You're more of a slut than I expected.
Not one to pass up an invitation, I take out my cock and begin to fuck you. You're exactly what I needed: tight, warm, wet. You sit limply as I I pound away at you for a while, watching in the mirror as I use you, Unable to look away. I wonder whether you would if you could.
Then the door opens, and a big guy with a protruding belly comes in. He starts when he sees us, looks like he's deciding if he needs to call someone. I wave him over. "Here, I was pretty much done anyway. Why don't you take a turn?" He's all too happy to oblige, and while he's unzipping his pants I take the permanent marker out of my pocket and take a moment to write on your inner thighs. On one side, the word FREE. On the other: CUNT.
The big guy is eager, I'll give him that much. He starts going to town on you like you're his favorite fleshlight, and he hasn't gotten to cum in months. A few more guys come in while he's doing his business, and after a moment's conference they come over to wait their turn. I watch in satisfaction as the big guy throws his head back, moaning and shooting cum into your pink little pussy. He thanks me, and while he's washing his hands the next guy starts in on you.
The word gets around pretty quick. Before long the bathroom is full of guys waiting to fuck you. The demand is so great, I agree to let them lay you on your side so they can fuck your mouth and ass too. All I demand is that they don't block your view of the mirror. That's the most important part, to me. I want to show you what a whore you are. You're no more than an an object, a collection of warm holes to stick our cocks in. The biggest difference between you and a fleshlight is we don't have to clean you up when we're done with you.
I stay there and enjoy the show for a good few hours, but eventually it's time for me to cum. The hard part is deciding where. Your mouth looks inviting, and I'm sure your asshole is nice and tight, but in the end I decide I didn't get enough of your pussy before. And besides, it's not free mouth or ass. It's free cunt. I wait for the guy currently on you to drop his load—I'm nothing if not courteous—and then I step in and take up where he left off. I try to fuck the cum of all these guys deeper into you, imagining it taking root in your womb. And then I feel something. Your pussy twitches, contracts ever-so-slightly around my cock. I look down at your face, and see you closing your eyes, almost as if in pleasure. Looks like it's time to go; my little cocktail is wearing off. I unload my balls into you, the pent-up cum of hours spent touching myself while I watched these strangers rape you. Maybe it's just my imagination, but I'd swear I hear a soft, desperate moan escape you. Hard to be sure, of course; the cock in your throat mostly drowns it out.
I turn for one last look before I leave. The rush has died down by now, but there's still a good number of guys standing around you. I smile. I doubt they'll be going anywhere any time soon. I turn and walk out the door.
As the drugs wear off, you begin to regain some control of your faculties. You wiggle your toes, twitch your fingers. The dull pounding in your lower regions sharpens into a pair of cocks, draining simultaneously into your pussy and your asshole. Your hips gyrate at the sensation, almost outside of your control. You try to lift your head, but the guy fucking your face pushes you back into the counter, your nose in a puddle of cum. He pulls out and ejaculates on your face—not the first guy tonight to finish in this way, by the feel of it.
He lets go and you attempt to sit up again, this time successfully. The party has gotten the hint that you're coming to, and the last of the rapists are filing out now. You sit your bare ass on the counter and look at your self in the mirror. Your face has received so many loads that it's impossible to distinguish them: they run together into a thick coating of cum. Your dress has been torn open to get at your breasts, which are bruised and sore from all the gripping and squeezing they've taken. Your pussy is swollen and red, and more cum drips out of it each time you move. The marker has bled a bit, but the words FREE CUNT are still very legible, and you doubt they'll wash off any time soon.
Cum runs down your leg as you stand. Your dress is ruined. There's no way you'll be getting your tits back into this thing. Best to wait until everyone's gone home, then make a break for it, hope not too many people see you. That gives you a little time.
You wipe a drop of cum that's run down your cheek and now threatens to fall off your chin. You lick it off your finger, almost curiously. Then you lower your hand between your legs and begin to masturbate.
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nhoirr · 4 months
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QUESTION ! — Do you like me?
Asking genshin impact men the question, "Do you like me?"
Var!genshin.men x reader. WARNINGS ? — fluff.
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"No," — "Oh." was what you breathe out, your expression morphing into a wince — the twitch of your smile faltering at his quick response. It takes all of your will power to not just burst into tears right then and there, wishing you had the capability the traveller had to just simply disappear.
"'Like' is a vague word," He adds on, like adding salt to the wound and your expression contorts into a grimace; immediately regretting your actions when you would want nothing more than to forget about this embarrassing moment of your life; to shrink away and crawl into a hole, never to be heard of again. But, you can't help but be curious.
"It could mean — if I enjoy your company, to like you as a person, a friend or.."-something more? He trails off his words, his eyes glazing over to your nervous form infront of him. Clearly on edge with his words, dangling between embarrassment or futile hopes — beads of sweat forming on your forehead as you prepare yourself for the finishing blow of rejection.. But it doesn't come; instead, he speaks again.
"But perhaps.." — Theres a quirk to his lips, his expression once devoid of any change, suddenly displaying his growing amusement dancing along behind his gaze; and so, you can't help but hope that maybe.. "The latter," he concludes.
AN ATTEMPT TO FLIRT OR A PLOT OF LOGIC? — He knows the answer far too well, the moment he felt the racing beat of his heart. The moment his gaze would always come to seek you at every place — it made him sick, sick enough to despise it; at first, he thought it was nothing but a hindrance in the face of his duties. BUT — he realizes that it was far too late to back away, because he already had a taste of what he could lose if he would ever let go. It seems he couldn't let go before the attachments grew far from his control, so he lets himself be free for a moment, to indulge the desires and to quench his longing heart.
♡ — ALHAITNAM, diluc, KAEYA, SCARAMOUCHE, HEIZOU, ayato, albedo, LYNEY
— "Maybe." — "sorry?" Your face falls flat in confusion of what to feel, when the feeling in your chest stirs but also tightens in anticipation.. But maybe? What was with that response—?!
"I don't?" He throws the question back to you and it renders you speechless, jaw dropping on the floor type of speechless. "No, no — what do you.." You try to go about it in a roundabout way, "What do you think of me?"
You knew he was not familiar with things involving trivial matters such as love, he had no such time nor interest in the topic; well-before, that was until you came waltzing into his life.
If he were to compare it to any other stories he had heard before — it was akin to finding your soulmate, completing yourself by finding your other half. Providing the coverage to the areas he knew nothing about — and one of those things were.. love.
"You.. are important to me. I find your company as something to come back to every day as a reassuring reminder that you are here with me, I am comforted with just merely by your presence." Theres a burning feeling bubbling up inside you, and it didn't take a genius to know that you were now blushing; you were sure it showed even more with every word he'd utter next — you shrink back in embarrassment, but still touched no less.
"I don't find my time with you as a waste, In fact.. the days seem to pass faster than ever when you are around. Even so, I don't seem to find you a bother, and.." So he merely answers with what he feels, with what he knows — "You make me feel things that are.. unfamiliar to me," He notes that now would be a good example of that — you had a knack of charming his heart and making him feel sick. (lovesick?)
—and to that, he thinks he finally came to a conclusion that he may.. ! perhaps.. ?!
INNOCENT AND UNCERTAIN — He wasn't sure if it was like or like-like. He had no prior knowledge of this afterall, you were the first to break through the numerous cold stone walls of his. Stealing his heart away before he could retort — he finds himself smitten too, unable to resist the warmth you bring.
♡ — XIAO, dainsleif, kaveh, itto[?]
— "Yes, I do." The straight up response from him knocks the air out of you. He says it so awfully casual that it renders you speechless, your heart beating out of your ribcage — you know its true when he smiles at you. So gently, soft — you could even say so breathtakingly beautiful that you think you're being blinded by the sun, perhaps you saved a country in your last life to have this man be yours.
"Really?" You query, cheeks painted into rose tinted hues. "Yes, really." He replies in court, the atmosphere never felt this much full before — was this what they mean, when they say 'love is in the air'?
"I like you," You confess and you see how his face softens, the wrinkle in his eye when his body leans into you, shoulders slacking when he relaxes his posture; odd, you didn't remember being this close before, "I like you too,"
LOVING, SURE AND TRUE — You finally know that his every smiles are for you. That you are sure of — that for you, he smiles. The smile of his that seeps through every crevice of your world, painting it with colors of the first sun rays of the day your love bloomed. In memory of every butterfly that would erupt in your stomach, to every fleeting glances and the burst of heat burning your cheeks in fluster — a sign that love had bloomed, and spring had come.
♡ — CYNO, venti, KAZUHA, childe, WANDERER, thoma, Zhongli
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© Nhoirr — DO NOT COPY NOR PLAGIARIZE MY WORKS!
[ Dividers by @horrorification ! ]
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bloodycassian · 9 days
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Reborn - Reader x Azriel. AN - thank you anon for this great prompt!
Requested - I don't know if your requests are open but I wanted to throw something in just in case.
An Azriel x reader, where AZ and reader have never met before, reader has been tortured and experimented on by the court of nightmares ( Keir ) she could be a shadowsinger, and they're mates, when the reader is in the verge of death for refusing to work with Keir, AZ feels it and begins to grow hectic without knowing the reason,  everyone in the inner court is confused until elain comes out of nowhere and tells everyone that his mate is in danger. ( Vision )
I have this on the back of my mind since reading some of your amazing work and couldn't stop thinking about it.
No amount of masturbation, drinking, or sparring helps the agitation under Azriel’s skin. It’s a constant, burning, itching thing that’s like a fucking disease upon his being. 
Sleep is his only relief, but even then he’s plagued with pain and darkness. It reminds him too much of the dank basement he’d been forced into when he was young, so he stays up. He’s exhausted and brooding and quick to snap at anyone who questions him. He knows he’s being a dick but according to the five healers he’d seen, there was nothing wrong. 
Nothing wrong, just like how his shadows weren’t some kind of magic, according to them. 
He’d refused to believe in healers all that much since the explanation Madja had given him about his diseased pets. The writhing, tentacles of night were a ‘bodily mutation of the highest level, tainted with fae magic’. Tainted. The word felt right for what they were, but that didn’t mean it stung any less. 
“We’ll invade here, and be able to plant our…” There was a beat of silence in Amren’s quick words, then her voice cut through his busybodied task like a knife “Azriel, are you even listening?” 
Truthfully, he hadn’t been. He’d been consumed by the ache again, the broiling sickness beneath his skin that had every muscle flexed in tension. His mind had other battles to fight. 
“What does it matter? You’ll carry out your plan with or without me. Keep talking, make yourself feel important, Amren.” His ill-tempered response came quick and laced with venom. One glance towards the small not-quite-fae female and his mind gave a twinge of regret. 
A lick of her power radiated, filling the room with something vibrant and undeniable. Cassian sucked in a breath, and a word from Rhys had her firey gaze snapping to him instead. “Take your dog from the important business then, High Lord.” Her words were precise, hissed. 
Azriel straightened. The insult didn’t land as well as Amren had wanted, in part because he couldn’t care less, another because the fire under his skin was reaching a peak that he had no idea how he survived every time it came around. He glanced to Rhys, who gave him a nod. Good. Let him free of this cage. 
He flung open the balcony doors with his cursed gift and sprinted off the ledge, launching himself into the summer air. 
+
Rats nibbled at your toes when you slept, scurrying away before you could catch them. Your senses weren’t even close to what they had been months ago. Before, you’d been able to catch at least two a week for extra sustenance. 
You told yourself that they’d learned, that they’d gotten quicker at their biting and fleeing. Truthfully, you could feel your strength waning every day. 
Living was no longer hope, and more of an inconvenience. 
But it was an inconvenience to Kier as well. And that meant you’d keep on living out of spite. 
The next female would appreciate it. 
“Arms up, legs together.” The order came with unnatural casualness that you’d grown used to. If you didn’t follow the orders, you were beaten until you either complied or were unconscious, so complying was really the only option. Especially when you were attempting to stay alive for as long as you could. 
It’s for the next girl. You chanted to yourself when the keeper made the injection. It stung like hundreds of bees attacking the same place, but the pain was familiar. A friend you welcomed before everything went sideways and the nausea rolled in. 
The drug Kier’s men gave was like none you’d experienced outside this cell. An incredible high, with a disastrous low. 
You convulsed on the floor moments later, your body still barely able to take the amount they dosed you with. You’d seen the liquid inside the damn thing grow each week, they were marking your progress with every one of them. So, with each dosing you made sure to put on some dramatics for them. 
The clawing at the throat was false, the sound of your screams only half-forced. The real, unforced reaction though, was always the shade of pallor your skin turned after every injection. The darkness that radiated from you like a bubble, the pain made physical. 
It hovered over your skin like an aura, tendrils of it washing over your forehead when the sweating started. It always started like this, for the first few hours - or possibly minutes, you weren’t sure once you were lost to the pain - they’d observe, and sometimes Kier himself would join, looking like a disappointed mother. Then, once the shaking subsided, and you were able to breathe normally, they’d release a rabbit into your cell. 
The same rabbit almost every damn time. After the first two weeks, you’d grabbed the first one and snapped it’s neck, hoping that Kier would be happy with the accomplishment and you’d earn something. You’d felt awful as it died in your hands, but the pain… if it stopped the pain, you’d kill anything. 
But time after time, they’d send in another rabbit, and though you begged for some kind of explanation of what they wished with the damn thing, they’d only observe. After a few hours of investigating, it’d eventually be removed and you’d wake up alone again.
Kier did not make an appearance today, and after your shaking stopped, neither did a rabbit.
“Where’s dinner?” You croaked, the tears stinging small cuts on your cheeks. Your friend never laughed or spoke, hardly even moved when he was in the vicinity of your cell. It was odd, even for a freak who enjoyed drugging and torturing others.
The male only stared, writing in his little notebook. He could at least humor you and tell you what he was so keenly logging. Some friend.
He opened the door, but instead of the rabbit jumping inside, he stepped forward, past the barrier and wards keeping you from breaking through. Your breathing halted. 
“Your reluctance to learn your gifts has given us no other option.”
+
“Did you lose a fight?” 
Nesta’s words normally bounced and slid right off Azriel, but with how volatile he was feeling, it took all his restraint not to snarl at her.
“Come on Az, where’s that quick wit?” She chided, crossing her legs at the knee beside her sister. 
His eyes drifted to Elain, the warm blush of her cheeks. Her lavender nightshirt made her seem so much more vulnerable than she was. He knew just how lethal the female could be, and admired her for it. His eyes drifted to the soft hair and round features that he’d once dreamt of. How foolish he’d been, how full of hope and bitterness. Now here he was, merely a ghost. A shell for pain to be housed in and nothing more. 
And here he stared at a garden of hope and light. The female who’d haunted his dreams for years. The opposite of the steel bitch that sat beside her. 
A pang of guilt pinched at him. “You’re ridiculous.” Was all he could muster at her. Nesta was trying to help, in her own way, he supposed. She was testing his limits and temper, even while balancing comforting words and attempting to heal her little sister’s mental wounds. Not to mention navigating the strange, untrained gift of Elain’s.
It wasn’t often that Azriel came to the house of wind proper. When he did, he usually confined himself to the dining area and the war room, where the formal dinners and meetings were held. He hadn’t walked the halls into the large internal library in a long, long while. No wonder they both had turned their chairs to face him when he’d cracked the door to find them both here. 
The large windows seemed crowded with the amount of books that surrounded them. The only source of light, aside from the twinkling magic fueled ones above. The room had always made Azriel feel claustrophobic, and now it set him on edge in a way different than it had before. 
Especially when Elain’s eyes bored into his own. His skin felt like it was shifting, pulling and pushing from just beneath. He was beginning to wonder if the healers had somehow missed a parasite of some kind. Something new perhaps, something they’d never seen before.
Elain’s eyes widened, her cheeks going from the pink blush to sickly pale in an instant. Her expression was unfocused, hazy - as if she were drunk. Azriel suddenly felt like he was intruding, like seeing her so vulnerable was something reserved for only those close to her. 
Nesta placed a hand on her shoulder and rubbed her sister’s back comfortingly. It was about as tender as Azriel had ever seen her, even with Cassian. He watched the hands that rubbed the Seer, recalling the intense desire he’d once felt for her. Embarrassment coated his cheeks, distracting him from the physical pain for a moment.
He’d wanted to be that support for her, once. Nesta’s hand seemed to grow in his vision, the embroidered collar of Elain’s nightshirt with it. He blinked rapidly, trying to refocus. The blackness around his eyes did not recede though. His bones ached, and his headache stabbed at him like a branding iron. He rubbed his temple, squeezing his eyes shut. 
“She needs help.” Elain gasped, coughing on a breath. Azriel wavered on his heels, something hard hitting his back, crushing his wings. 
He could barely hear the high strung sound of Elain’s voice. “She needs help, Azriel!”
+
He tore though the court, dragging Kier kicking and frothing with him. He’d received a few severe wounds from the cruel male, but nothing that a few patches of his siphons couldn’t hold together. 
The gushing stab wounds could wait. He had something far more important to tend to.
“You’re a bastard, a low-born inconsequential bastard, Shadowsinger.” Kier coughed as Azriel dragged his broken body with him. The crowd pushed and writhed around them, but his outstretched dagger kept any of the patrons from advancing. Several dark looks, hisses of death closed in around him, but he plowed through them all, working his way to the catacombs behind the stone chair that served as Rhys’s dark throne. 
“I may be a bastard-” Azriel grunted through his pain, now more fevored and intense than before. It was a wonder he’d even been able to make it here, but it did explain his sloppy handling of Kier once he’d found the male. 
“But at least I didn’t sell a daughter off as stock.” He tossed the would-be-king to the locked door of the catacombs, a part of him enjoyed the thunk his head made against the stone floor, even through the intense agony that ripped through him. 
This was not the place to show weakness. If he let his shadows drop, let the air of anything but a cold hearted killer go for even a moment he’d be trampled by the crowd. 
Kier rose slowly, muttering curses while he pulled out a key and slid the door to the side. He sketched a bow, waving Azriel in. Spit landed at Azriels feet as he crossed the threshold, and he hesitated in his step. A hiss rang out behind him, shuffling feet a song as the crowd quickly scooted back. He held his stance there for a moment, collecting the wrath that built in him. It writhed and twisted in his mind, his guts, his teeth throbbing with the urge to tare out Kier’s throat. 
The blistering heat flared again, this time in his jaw and he moved down the hall, towards the cells that an unfortunate assistant to Kier had described. 
He’d made their death quick, painless. 
+
You couldn’t scream, could hardly breathe with the weight that seemed to be growing in your chest. 
Not weight exactly, more like pressure. Internal pressure, like there was lava built up inside you with nowhere to go. And every rattling breath seemed to give it more life. You wheezed, weak with the exhaustion of fighting it. 
Your friend had given you three more of the injections, and promptly left when you began struggling against the binds at your hands and feet. One of them had ripped, you only knew because that was the hand that you’d used to claw at your chest with. 
The blood made going any further too slippery and exhausting.
There were far away sounds, but it all seemed too strange, so disjointed to be real. Screams and sharp clangs of metal, breaking glass and thudding. 
Your eyes slipped closed, and relief washed over you. The pressure eased, and the squeaky hinges of the door opened. Had death finally come? Was this the end of your cycle, and now they were bringing in a new victim to Kier’s experiments? 
There wasn’t much of a goodbye to the world, though. As sad as it was to not be able to see your family again, you were just grateful that the pain was receding. That finally there’d be no injections, no innocent rabbit and certainly no Kier around. 
The sounds were strange, a choking, strangled sound like the first time you’d killed the rabbit. Your eyes cracked open almost involuntarily to see what had happened. 
Outside your cell in a glow of blue light was a winged male, his hand wrist deep inside your friend’s chest. 
+
Blood is hotter than most people think it is. Azriel takes joy in it though, when it’s the blood of the truly vile ones. The male with the syringes and log book reeked of something spiced and foreign, something Azriel’d never encountered before. He would have asked, would have talked to the male if he’d not pulled a knife and threatened to ‘kill her’ as he backed away. 
There were no thoughts after that. And as he fell to the floor, Azriel reveled in the male’s labored breathing. Relief and heat flooded him, prickling him with a soaring joy he’d thought abandoned him long ago. He could laugh, if it weren’t for the absurdity of how it sounded to laugh at this moment.
 He plucked the book from his hands and shoved it into his belt behind him, his chest thrumming with joy.
He’d never been so filled with glee before, so overwhelmed with it after killing… Had he become broken in a sick way? Was he no better than the male he’d just killed? He looked to his hand, twisting it in the low light of his siphons. 
A wet, weak cough echoed off the walls and he spun, knife ready. 
Then the blade was on the floor as he rushed to the bars of the cell door, ripping it free of the rusted hinges. 
The female was gaunt, and frail. Yet his chest sang and though she looked moments from death, he couldn’t imagine more beauty. 
She clutched her chest, the blood there crusted and dry. “Thanks.” She croaked, voice barely a whisper. Shadows mounted around him, enclosing them in complete black. He would have thought he was winnowing if it weren't for the sorry excuse for a bed that stayed beneath her.
Azriel’s lips were moving, but he couldn’t tell what he was saying, even to his own ears. His mind, his body was a rushing river of every emotion at once, all cascading through his mind, to his chest and thrumming in his blood. Her eyes went wide and wild, searching his for a moment. His heart thundered in his ears.
What had his life been until now? Why was this moment such a climax to him so suddenly? All of it, the pain the agony, the stark moments of joy against it all - the brief moments of shared happiness that made it all worth it tore through his body like a flash floor. 
Tears pricked his eyes, and it was a curious thing to see them fall onto her neck and wash away the blood there. 
Then, a wet sigh from her lips, and her eyes stopped searching his. The rush of joy and sense of sanctuary ceased. His blood went quiet in his ears, and the room felt suddenly cold. The room silent around him, not even his shadows dared whisper.
His fingers hesitated over her cheek. When her next breath did not come, he shook her gently. Her eyes remained, staring blankly at the ceiling. 
This was truly a tomb now. 
“No…” He heard his own words that time. The word clattered through the cell like a bell tolling, echoing.
“Take her back.” A shadow hissed over his ear, caressing. 
He shook her again, the tears boiling over now, panic gripping him. 
“We know how.” another said. This voice was different, the same whispered tone and suggestion, but this was not one of his pets. He sent his own shadows skittering away, and a group of them stayed, unbound to him and unmoving from the cell. His heart skipped, fear upon fear pulling him into the icy abyss of despair. 
His own shadows returned, a broken syringe floating to him on their behest. They mingled with the others, reveling and dancing together though Azriel felt that he was slowly sinking.
“What am I supposed to do with this?!” He shouted at them, at nothing. He had truly lost his mind, hadn’t he?
“Save her.” The strange shadows told him. Just like Elain had said, overtaken by her visions.
 A tendril of the foreign shadow wrapped around his hand, locking the glass pieces there and slicing into his palm. The needle aimed directly to her chest, between the ribs, only a few inches from the heart. 
And what did he have to lose? The silence that surrounded him now was almost worse than the pain had been. Wouldn't pain at least be better than complete nothingness? To feel completely blank and unwritten as a being?
With a breath, and a part of his siphon’s power to support the broken syringe, he pushed into her skin. His own blood dribbled down the sides, mixing with hers. Through and through - until he knew that he’d met the same depth of a killing blow to an opponent’s heart. 
+
“Side, block, strike.” Cassian’s orders came out in demanding, practiced tones. Each step, each swipe of your blade met with one of Azriel’s shadows as a shield. 
His were still much, much stronger than yours, even after months of practice with them. Even with him showing you very intimately just how much they were capable of. Your cheeks blushed at the reminder of that. 
“No distractions, keep that shadow talk in the bedroom, Az.” Cassian scolded.
A smirk played at your mate’s face, and he hit you with a surprise swipe at your feet, left unprotected by your own shadows. 
You fell on your ass, cursing. 
Azriel offered a hand, panting at the exertion the sparring had taken. You were proud of that, at least. 
The first six months of training had been dedicated to building stamina, gaining back weight and muscle while balancing training your shadows to obey you. Six months ago, being able to spar with your mate had seemed like a far off dream that you’d never be capable of doing. 
But with his training, and Cassian’s encouragement, you were almost able to take him on stride for stride. Almost. 
So, you took his hand and pulled him towards you for a kiss. Then knocked his knees out from behind with a wave of your own shadows.
You smirked, and offered him a hand while Cassian boomed with laughter.
He allowed you to help him up, but cleaned in close, pecking a kiss on your cheek. 
“You’ll pay for that later.” He said in an intimate tone. A lick of his shadow wrapped around your thigh, snaking upwards. 
“Promise?” Your eyes sparkled at him, and the pain all those months ago had been worth it for this. 
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vienssunshine · 4 months
Text
I just wanna get high with my best friend
pairing: Maki Zenin x fem!reader nsfw: shotgunning, kissing cw: cheating, weed use author's note: this work is inspired by this song
You weren’t sure why Maki turned so cold when you got a boyfriend. The two of you were so close, constantly having sleepovers in your dorm rooms, training together, eating together, really doing anything and everything as long as it was together. But, that all slowed down when you started dating a male sorcerer from another school. You still saw Maki every day, but something felt off now. Every time you talked about your boyfriend, she always had something negative to say about him. Her comment “I could treat you way better than him” was especially difficult to brush off.
The tension comes to a head when you’re spending another late night in your dorm room, sharing a bed and a blunt.
You blow a cloud of smoke from your mouth and a warm haze begins to flood your bloodstream, contrasting the cold, winter air the cracked window is letting into the room. Maki always has the best stuff; you’re feeling much more relaxed now—the stress of your new relationship and Maki’s strange behavior has been weighing on you.
Your phone dings; the noise is shrill. “Oh, he texted me,” you notice.
Maki takes the blunt from your fingers, choosing to take a drag rather than respond. She leans back on one of your pillows, amber eyes lowered and not focused on anything.
You bring your phone into your lap. “He wants to go ice-skating tomorrow.”
“You hate being cold," she says.
You look up from your phone. “Well, yeah. But, I don't know, maybe ice-skating could still be fun.”
Maki huffs and rolls her eyes. “He’s an idiot.”
“Go easy on him, okay?” you smile, texting him back, “He hasn’t known me as long as you have.”
“He doesn’t know you at all,” she says, placing the joint back between her lips.
You send a text to your boyfriend: “Ice-skating sounds good.”
He responds immediately: "Ight, be there around 3.”
That’s when your training sessions are. You press your lips together; you’re certain you’ve told him that before.
You begin typing your response when Maki turns her head. “Hey, want to try something cool?”
Text message half-written, you put down your phone. “Uh, sure. What are you thinking?”
“Want to try shotgunning?” Maki asks. Her expression is far more interested after the change in subject.
You tilt your head. “What’s shotgunning?”
“Here, I’ll show you. Come closer.”
You clamber over your plush bedding and sit next to her, re-adjusting the blanket she had thrown over your legs after you opened the window.
Maki holds the blunt up and explains, “I’ll blow the smoke into your mouth and you inhale it, okay?”
You furrow your brows together. “Does that really work?”
“It does, I’ve seen it at parties.”
You shrug. “Okay, I’ll try it.”
Maki smirks and brings the blunt to her mouth, taking a deep breath in that has the end of the joint smoldering. She places her hand on your shoulder and leads you closer to her until her lips mere centimeters from yours.
Your eyes flutter shut and you open your mouth, receptive when she blows the smoke inside it. You bring the drug deep down into your lungs. It burns, but it’s pleasant at the same time.
Your head is cloudy and your body heavy when you breathe the smoke out. Everything just feels so…good.
You’re so glad you can hang out with Maki like this. Just you two. Alone. Her hand on your shoulder—she hasn’t moved it yet—feels so nice. You like her so much. Maybe more than your boyfriend.
Your lips touch. You pull back slightly. This is wrong. But, then she leans forward and her lips are on you again. It’s making your skin buzz. Wrong or not, you melt into her.
Her hand on your shoulder tightens and she brings you in closer, deepening the kiss. Your lips and tongues explore each other, minds entirely free of thoughts, only able understand the sensation of your bodies meeting each other.
She breaks the messy kiss for a moment to whispers some words into your mouth, just like she had with the smoke. “Glad you realized I’m better than him.”
You cup her face with your hands, “Yeah, you are.”
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shirefantasies · 27 days
Note
Heyyy i just wanna say that I LOVE your writing. Its so so comforting 🫶🫶🫶
Can I request a story/headcanon about how Thorins company/ specifically Kíli would react if (fem) reader got her hair braided by her (non dwarf) friend, and it was just a friendly thing, but the dwarves thought it was a courting braid?
Pairing Fem!Reader x Kíli
Thank youu🫶💗
Omg thanks! Comfort writing is a big honor 🥹
Mission of Misunderstanding- Kili x F!Human!Reader
Shout-out to my girlies in the unbraidable hair community lmao 🤝 Warnings: one minor swear lol, a couple suggestive remarks
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One more step and your feet were going to fall off. Surrendering to the burn, you all but fell down onto the log, tilting your feet so only your heels rested upon the earth. A sigh escaped your lips and you didn’t even move when the rustling sounded at your back.
A familiar voice spoke your name. Bilbo. “Are you quite alright?”
“Yes, my friend,” you breathed, “so long as you don’t count anything below the knee. Or my hair. Can’t imagine how much dirt and leaves have gotten in it after all that.”
"Well, yes," Bilbo chided, ever the little mother-hen, "you've got to keep it back. Why don't I braid it for you?"
Your heart burst, and not from exertion this time. "You would do that for me?"
"Of course," the hobbit shrugged, "haven't had much practice of it of late, but certainly I can give it a go for you. I understand. I wouldn't want the mess either. Come here."
Thanking him again, you scooted closer to where Bilbo stood, gritting your teeth for the pain of him detangling your hair, only to relax at the gentle touch of his nimble fingers. Eyelids fluttering shut in contentment, you sat as Bilbo worked his magic neatening your hair up and making fresh braids of it for you. Feet still elevated and aching, but less so the longer you sat off of them. When the hobbit pulled back with a quiet, still-focused finished, your first instinct was to reach up around your head, touching the new set of braids with a widening smile.
"And now it shall be free of my face! Truly, thank you, Bilbo!" Pulling him into a quick hug, you vowed to repay him somehow with a teasing final statement. "Since I doubt you want me to braid yours."
"That is quite alright, thank you," he chuckled, "let's head back to camp before Bombur chases us down, eh?”
Camp was nearby, and still sparsely populated as you approached it. Bofur and Bombur were there building a fire, and Thorin stood a ways aside having a conversation with Balin. Dwalin and Gloin sat playing a game with a rock as their table, and Ori sat knitting. The others, you presumed, were hunting, saddling ponies, or else getting attention from Oin. Thinking nothing of it you sat down again, this time near Dwalin and Gloin, asking who was winning and if they were taking bets just to laugh at their responses. Bilbo helped Bofur and Bombur get set up for dinner a few feet off, propping up sticks strong enough to hold the cooking pot.
Sure enough, the rest of the company began trickling in, Oin, Bifur, and Nori first, the latter two with poultices and bandages. You winced. Perhaps you should complain less about your feet. Next up came Dori and Fili, who each carried one half of a felled deer, shot clearly with one of Kili's arrows. The younger prince had a bag in hand, likely having won whatever silly game determined who got the lightest load. Smiling and meeting his eyes, you gave a quick wave, indicating your amusement at the game behind you with your eyes.
Kili smiled back and waved, then swiveled his head away and back again in a double-take. You found yourself frowning as he averted his gaze to help his brother, blinking as you wondered what that was about. All you'd done was say hello. Not even say, really. Did he think you were making fun of the others?
Perhaps it was nothing, but considering your feelings for the prince, it was everything in your mind. Cycling ideas began overtaking your brain like mist. Had he suspected malice of your joke? Had he simply heard something? Why had his expression shifted so? Maybe he was just worried by what he heard.
~
"What did I miss while we were gone?"
At Kili's words, Dwalin simply frowned, peering at him like he'd thoroughly lost his marbles. "What do ya mean, lad?"
"Did...did anything happen?"
"Took Gloin for a right fool on the card table," the older dwarf replied with a smug look, chest puffing and shoulders widening.
"No," the prince shook his head, "not with you, with..."
Despite the way he trailed off, Dwalin gave him a knowing smirk, crossing his tattooed arms. "Ah, I see," he nodded, "not with me, not with me at all. With the lass, eh? Why, she didn’t greet you with a kiss?”
Having an older brother really steeled one to teasing. Much as Kili wanted to fight, to protest and say oi, quit that or I’ll make you, he knew it was exactly the rise Dwalin would’ve wanted to get from him. Beside the other fact that his elder could kick his ass easily.
“‘Course not,” he replied nonchalantly as he could, “I just noticed someone had braided her hair was all.”
Even Dwalin had cause for surprise at that, dark eyebrows shooting up to his metaphorical hairline. “Just since this morning?”
“Yeah,” Kili replied, trying not to sound as deflated as the words made him feel, knocking the air clean out of him now that he’d said them out loud, “thought maybe you’d seen who did it.”
“Hadn’t even crossed my mind, but I think it was like that when she and Bilbo headed back to camp.”
“Bilbo?” He’d lose to a three and a half foot…grocer? “Well now, I’d not have expected that, eh?”
“I can tell ye don’t actually want to laugh, son.”
Sighing, he finally let himself deflate. Bilbo? You and Bilbo?
~
“I hardly see them talk that much. Do you?”
“Not nearly enough to warrant a marriage. Those take time.”
“I know, Fee.”
“Spark.”
“I know.”
“And I thought you two had it. Not even just saying that because you’re my brother. You know I’m honest with you. The only reason those two would have is both feeling like outsiders, and that hardly seems cause to f-”
“Thank you, Fili, yes. Perhaps I was just wrong. Perhaps she could never have loved me after all. She wasn’t my One.”
“Now, brother,” grabbing him by the cheeks with one hand, Fili pulled his younger brother’s gaze to meet his, “not so hasty. Have you talked to either of them yet?”
“Wasn’t ready,” he mumbled, shaking out of the squishing grasp.
“Well, perhaps you should. Knowing is pain, yes, but it is also the thing that keeps us going in the end.”
Kili dropped his gaze thoughtfully before meeting his brother’s eye again, smiling faintly. “Remember our old espionage days? Maybe it’s time we had another mission.”
“Alright,” Fili nodded and smiled, “for old times’ sake.”
~
“Well hello there, Master Burglar.”
“Whatever it is, I won’t fall for it.”
“Now, now, so dry and for what?” Fili wrapped an arm around the hobbit. “I was just wondering how you you were coming along with…a certain member of the company.”
At that, the hobbit’s face crumpled in disgust. By Fili’s reckoning, Master Bilbo seemed barely interested in romance and certainly not with any of the types he currently ran with. He needed someone more doilies and dishcloths and the lot. You may have been the closest to his type, but still far too much of an edge, far too much indeed.
“I beg your pardon?” Bilbo simply replied.
With a conspiratorial wink, Fili leaned in and whispered your name, glancing back to the hobbit’s eyes, which narrowed slightly. Suspicious.
“Uh, w-well I would say,” Bilbo stuttered, shrugging lightly, “well as we could be, all things considered.”
“All things considered?” Fili’s grip tightened a bit. “There are things to be considered?”
“There are plenty of things to be considered!” The burglar shot back. “Why, is she upset with me? Last I heard, she liked the braids and I made her feel much more comfortable. Have I done something today?”
Blue eyes closing to near-slits, Fili released his grip entirely, arm falling back to his side. “Did she ask you to arrange her hair?”
“She complained about it,” Bilbo replied, shimmying in his newfound freedom and using his released arm to slide his pack closer, “so I offered to do something about it. Can’t imagine that is much of an outrage…oh. Oh, good heavens! No! Oh, no. No. She could be my daughter, who on earth sent you over here to…?”
Blonde brows raising, Fili’s head shot back in surprising hard enough to send his mustache braids swinging. “Wait, so you do know about courting braids?”
“Gloin was just telling me all about his,” the hobbit replied, freezing in place even in spite of his awkward, hunched-into-his-pack-hands-deep posture, “neither of us thought a thing about it. Privately I was hoping she and Kili would do whatever it was to get the tension out there, you know?”
Fili did know. He knew, all right.
~
“Psst! Psst! Hoo! Hoo! Caw!”
Kili’s head snapped up at the sound, dark eyes meeting his brother’s fair head popping from the scraggly bushes surrounding camp. One gloved hand waved wild beckoning at the younger prince. Rising from the rock he’d sat down on, one with a strategic view of some conversation between you, Uncle Thorin, and Balin, Kili strode to the edges of camp.
“Reconnaissance successful,” his older brother hissed.
“What?” Jaw dropping, Kili felt his hands leave his chest and clench in surprise. “That was fast. Nothing for me to do?”
“Not true, brother. Not true at all,” Fili smiled, “your part is far more important. You have to go talk to her.”
With a sigh, Kili nodded despite the heavy clunk of his heart in his chest. All the childhood playtimes were nice and all, but at the end of the day he had to be a dwarf about things. Face his fears, just like Uncle Thorin and his father and even Fili.
“You’re right. Though I dread it in my heart, I must speak to her. Even if my love is never known.”
“I wish you the greatest of luck,” Fili patted his shoulder, smiling eagerly, “and trust me. She won’t do a single thing to hurt you. I know it. Alright?”
Another nod. “Alright.”
Inhale, exhale. One step, then another. It was hard sometimes. Putting on the bravado. Fili was always so capable and Uncle had high standards. Not that he shouldn’t, but…it just got easier to act unafraid of everything. In truth, there was much Kili didn’t understand. Much he feared. Perhaps even his own heart, and that was why he had allowed himself to play games with it for so long. No longer, though.
Crunching across the dry campsite ground, he marched up to you as your conversation ended and asked to speak with you, frowning slightly at the nod Balin and Thorin exchanged. Focusing instead on your gaze, the way your eyes were intent in his and the-admittedly quite adorable-way shock bloomed across your face before giving way to a smile and a nod.
“Of course,” you said, and that was that.
How was it that one little smile from you could simultaneously calm Kili's heart and set it leaping like nothing else? There truly was no denying that you were special. Perhaps Bilbo had seen what was so dazzlingly obvious, too. Guess that wasn't too much of a shock.
You both ventured toward the tree line, stopping next to a particularly sturdy trunk. Eagerness was written across your face as you leaned against the smooth bark, encouraging Kili with a smile he couldn't help faintly mirroring even as tears swam in his eyes.
"Are congratulations in order?"
"For me?" You asked, head tilting and hand reaching to your chest. "Forgive me, but what are you asking? I thought maybe I'd upset you last night, but now I really fear it. Or are you teasing me again?"
All thought was scrubbed from Kili's brain at your words, a thick blanket of confusion draping over the prince's mind and furrowing his brows. Is this what Fili meant? Were you not to hurt him because you thought him cross with you? That hurt a bit in and of itself. Perhaps you'd known he would be jealous. But then again, you had greeted him so casually, giving him a cute little wave when he came back...
"Please," he all but begged your name, "the suspense is just killing me. Is that not a courting braid you've been given? I know it is new as of yesterday."
"Is that why you looked so perturbed? Courting...courting braid? Kili," you laughed, "my hair was full of sticks and leaves and all manner of muck, so Bilbo detangled it and got it out of my face for me! Bilbo could be my father!"
Still a bit shaky, but Kili's face surrendered a smile at the teasing smack you gave his upper arm. "Oh, forgive me for being a dwarf," he shot back, "I was hardly the only one who noticed."
"But you were the only one who was jealous," you teased him back, "is that not right?"
Kili could tell by the faltering smirk you gave, by the dart of your beautiful eyes, that you did not truly believe it, but by Mahal, you would when he was done with you.
"Madly," he agreed, eyes boring into yours, "never let anyone but me braid your hair again."
Eyebrows shooting up to your hairline, you peeled yourself from the tree as if to get a closer look. "Kili..."
"I mean it," he implored your name once more, gently taking your shoulders in his hands, "please. This isn't a joke, but if you'd like me to convince you..."
Surging forward, Kili closed the gap between you two, his lips soft against yours and stubble pleasantly tickling against your skin, which shifted as you moved in response to his kiss. Your hands found purchase in his hair, tangling in it and eliciting a sound Kili was too focused on you to be embarrassed about. When you finally pulled away for air, he pulled you back, resting his forehead against yours with a growing smile.
"So, you convinced?"
Your eyes glittered with mirth, joy, mischief...perhaps even love, and Kili knew he should have never doubted you were his One. "So convinced I practically want you to rip out all of Bilbo's work and do it over again yourself."
"You don't have to tell me twice."
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takami-takami · 1 year
Text
Accidents.
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includes— hawks x reader. minors dni. suggestive.
warnings— daddy kink. predator/prey undertones. keigo being a meanie.
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You wish the ground would just swallow you whole before his smug look does.
"Don't let it get to your head! Keigo—" You squeak, covering your own face with one hand and pushing his away with the other. Your palm does nothing to quell the mischievous laughing fit that your boyfriend doesn't seem to have the courtesy nor self control to keep to himself.
Don't let it get to his head? His head couldn't be any bigger in this moment.
He seizes the opening to situate himself on top of you with ease, keeping you caged beneath him so he can bear witness to the full extent of your misery. Your hands lie helpless, locked under his hold and pinned above your head to leave you wide open. He wants nothing obstructing his view of your dreadfully desperate squirms.
He considers locking your legs in place beneath his, too. It wouldn't be difficult at all to overpower you, but the butterfly kicks behind his back that ruffle the sheets beneath are just too delicious to watch.
Your bedroom has become a locked box of your whimpers and flails, and he loves it. What he wouldn't give to cage you here and throw away the key.
"Keigo...? Sorry, dunno who that is." His eyes roll in time with his shoulders, while that wicked grin never falters.
"Could've sworn you were just calling me something else," he sings above you. He purses his lips like he just can't catch his thought. Bastard. You'd be screaming into your hands if you had access to them. "What was it you said... What was it..." he hums a devilish, giddy tune, turning to catch your eye.
"Care to remind me?"
"You're an asshole!"
"No, that's not quite what you called me."
You huff in response, opting to stare at the ceiling behind him. Anywhere but that stupid, god-awful, pretty face of his. Maybe if you try to pull your wrists free, he'd take pity on you and— nope, still not giving an inch of leeway.
He notices your weak attempt. Poor thing, he thinks. You don't actually think there's anywhere to run, do you? Your halfhearted flailing underneath him is cute though, he'll give you that. So cute. Almost as cute as your little slip-up that got you into this fucking mess.
This is your mess, you know. You did start it, after all, and who is Keigo if not a man who finishes the job? It'd be criminal to not keep this game going for as long as it'll take to satisfy his instinct to torment you.
He's not a sadist, he swears.
He just knows prey when he sees it.
"Kei', I didn't— can you please just let this go?" You finally look at him with those puppy dog eyes. In another circumstance, they would get him to do whatever you want; but for once, he decides to be selfish. He's just having too much fun.
"Why should I? Don't tell me you're embarassed," he posits, as if you aren't the picture of shame incarnate beneath him. "Nothin' to be embarassed about, doll." He closes the gap between you, nose barely brushing the line of your jaw before he dares to have a taste. "Plenty of people would jump at the oppurtunity to call me da—"
"Hawks!"
"Oooh, yet another name and you still won't repeat the one from earlier. Gonna hurt my feelings, baby." Raptor eyes zero in on the juncture of your neck. When you strain to turn your head away from him, you leave your jugular completely exposed. He sighs. You're fucking helpless. He supposes that's why he's the pro hero, and you're just the little hare captured betwixt his talons. 
With a finality settling in his gut, he latches on and sinks his canines into you. You go limp below with the hitch of a breath, kicks slowing to a halt.
"You know, I think I like this." When his hands release yours, he's sure your muscles won't even twitch. Frozen under his spell, you are the moth to his proverbial flame; the rabbit in his headlights.
"I think that name is already one of my favorites. You'll say it again for me, won't you? Tell me..."
"Who's your fucking daddy?"
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