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#but this definitely reads like a vine
peachesofteal · 2 months
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The Acheron
An Ichor Veil (of Flower Kings) masterlist
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Ghost/Soap/female reader 10.6k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI. Modern retelling - Greek mythology AU. Hades and Persephone. Two Kings of the Underworld. Abuse (by reader's mother). Bad BDSM etiquette. Dom Simon Riley. Switch John MacTavish. Impact play, spanking. Ichor (blood) play. Non-con voyeurism. Kidnapping. Submissive reader. Reader is named Persephone but has no physical characteristics. Alcohol. Praise kink. Biting. Anal play. Subspace. Dubious consent. First they're sour, then they're sweet, then... they're sour. Tags are for your health, not mine. .A meeting, a trick, a meal.
Hebe’s is humming.
You nod to her through the crowd, a gaggle of mortals waiting at the counter, the line of them moving swiftly as they order their pastry-coffee duo for this dreary, rain slogged morning.
Her perpetually young face lights with exuberance once she spots you, and you can’t help the smile that fights into place at the sight of her. Hebe is a cherub. Soft, curved for ages, like she had been sculpted by her father himself. Today, she’s dolled up in tones of pink; pink lipstick, fuchsia stained cheeks, magenta streaks in her otherwise dark, tightly coiled hair that sits at her shoulders.
For a while, before you were brazenly corrected, you wondered if maybe your mother wanted Hebe as a daughter, instead of you. A perfect picture of untouched purity and power, an eternal cupbearer, worshipped as the goddess of Mercy. She was sweet, like her famous Portokalopita, orange syrup cake that drew a group of wanting mortals at the door every morning. She’s a stunner. A mountain of sunshine, a ray of positivity.
Sometimes, you hate her for it, even if she is one of your best friends. 
Something about her cheerful demeanor can dig at you, scrape along the sticky matter of your brain, gnaw at the soft bits that you’re still trying to protect, tender pieces that match your heart.
You follow the hall to the back room, where bookshelves taper off and large floor to ceiling windows flank the east and west sides to allow as much light in as possible. There are others here, a few mortals curled in overstuffed armchairs, books and cappuccinos in hand, light jazz soothing the atmosphere through a few hidden speakers. Healthy clematis blooms along the stair rail, purple blossoms disappearing into the second floor, where more reading rooms wait, books and plants boundless inside Hebe’s.
A place for everyone. 
You feed the clematis a little spark of magic, enough that the vine stretches, shivering and sprouting more flowers. “Aren’t you stunning this morning?” The plant curls around your fingers eagerly, imbued with the essence of power, drinking up the magic drops you encourage into its cell structure. “So healthy and strong, you’ve recovered so well.”
“Good morning.” A wraith of a voice whispers, and you catch the iridescent flicker of a cloud, of Nephele. The clematis will need pruning soon, probably next week, or maybe you can make time in the next few days, you don’t really have too much going on, just your birthday, and that delivery to Hera- 
Ghostly fingers stroke the inside of your elbow, and the cloud nymph regards you with an insightful expression. “Earth to Seph.”
“Sorry.” Your apology is meek, and she shrugs.
“I asked what you’re doing tonight?” Oh.
“Dinner… with my mom.” She nods, and says nothing, jaw clenching, apologetic grimace lining her lips.
“And Friday… Aselgeia?” The club. Your muscles tighten. It’s been over a year since you’ve been to Aselgeia, the club of many vices, the ones where mortals and creatures and gods all mix interchangeably, chasing their own pleasure. The memory of last time heats your spine: A private room. A black chair. A stranger swinging a paddle towards your bare-
Nephele coughs.  
“Yeah, definitely.” You put the box down that you’re carrying, twelve small pots containing strings of pearls, all crossbred to produce different colors, emboldened by their proximity to you in the Greenhouse for these past few months. They’ll sell well, you have no doubt. “I’ve got a few more boxes to bring inside. Don’t supposed you could do something about this slag weather we’re having?” You gesture, and she snorts.
“Hebe says they’re fighting. Probably looking at weeks of storms.”
“They’re always fighting.” You whisper it, even though most know the truth. Zeus and Hera were explosive. Tumultuous. Which is fine, you suppose, for a private life. A public life, however, one that belongs to the Golden King and Queen, should probably be a bit more… restrained.
After all, why should you and everyone else have to suffer because Hebe’s mom and dad can’t get along? 
“I’ve got a lot of cataloging to do, so I’ll catch you around. Text me after dinner tonight, if you need to talk.” She finishes quietly, kindly, but without encroaching, and you squeeze her hand with affection.
“Thanks, Nell.”
The final two boxes stack comfortably for your dash inside. You're eager to get all the plants settled so you can get back to the Greenhouse, slink away to your personal temple, your place of refuge, somewhere quiet to prepare for your dreaded birthday dinner in peace.
“Hello.” A male voice calls, accented so strangely it’s impossible to place. He waves, trying to flag you down.
“Hello?” You turn, nearly stumbling back at the sight of him.
Who is this? 
He’s stunning. Brilliant blue eyes study you from a mountaintop, taller than you by more than a head or two. His hair is short on the sides, but long in the middle, a fashion of mohawk you’re unfamiliar with except for in Hoplites, warriors who sacrifice themselves for the sanctity of the state. He’s broad, built like there’s a Herculean amount of muscle underneath his immaculately tailored midnight black suit, and his cheekbones complement the razor edge of his jaw, framing a full set of dark, plush lips.
He looks like a dream you’ve never had. A fantasy that failed fruition.
Fairer than Adonis. Brighter than Apollo. 
Butterflies kick up a fluttering frenzied in your belly.  
“Sorry to bother ye, I’m looking for Hebe’s?” Ah. You smile.
“You’ve found it. This is just the backside. Front door is around the walk to the left.” He steps closer, and you’re about to introduce yourself when you hear the whinny of a screech owl’s tremolo, a tinned melody that whistles past your ears.
Olympus tilts. Axis trembles. And so do you.
The stranger is keen, and glances around. 
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah, I um… it’s just that owl, I swear I saw the same one a few days ago… I didn’t think they were too common around here.”
“Dinnae think they are.” His eyes twinkle, celestial light that has you drifting, floating through time and space into starlit irises. The air turns heavy, hot- fresh fired bricks weighing down your chest, and everything spins, day turning to night, night molting black, deep hues of purple and blues streaking past your vision, spinning like moon, twisting you up until your balance is faltering, and you sway. “Whoa, hey.” Fingers fold over your arm, surprisingly cool, chilled, and it pulls you back into your body, spine uncurling, brow smoothing.
“Sorry, I…”
“Ye alright?” He’s still holding your arm, directing you to a bench, relieving you of your box in a swift motion.
“Yeah, sorry… I… I skipped breakfast.” There’s no other explanation, right? The handsome stranger tsks.
“Can I get ye somethin’? Maybe from inside?”
“No!” You blurt, horrified. Hebe would have a cow if she thought you were feeling faint or had skipped a meal. She takes caring for her loved ones far too seriously. “No, I’m almost done, and then I’ll be on my way home. I’ll eat there.” He raises an eyebrow, completely skeptical. “I swear.”
“Alright then. Let me help ye with the rest at least?” He’s standing with a hand extended, and you track the veins on the inside of his wrist until they disappear beneath his t-shirt, golden, tawny skin just barely allowing them to be seen. You wonder if it’s mortal blood that catapults through his body, or the rich, golden ichor that also spills from yours.
“Sure.” He lifts the box, gesturing for you to grab the other.
 “I’m John, by the way.” John. It simmers in the front of your mind, stitching itself into the fabric of your magic.
“Persephone. My friends call me Seph.” Bold. Too bold. 
“Ye’re Demeter’s daughter.” He comments, and you blink, fresh wave of regret curdling the sourness of your stomach.
“Yes.” Fool. Give your name to a stranger, and this is what will come. “Do you know-“
“Only in passing, dinnae worry.”
“Who said I was worried?”
“Ye wear yer emotions plainly.” Your cheeks burn, embarrassed at the blatancy of his statement. “It’s refreshing. So many of us, we play too many games, hide our true selves.” Us. Golden ones. Gods. 
“You’re Cloaking.” You intend it to be a statement, an observation, but with a tight jaw and frowning brow, it’s an accusation.
“Aye. Wouldnae want to scare ye away, would I?” What? Your steps slow, gait pausing in concern. “Sorry, ah. Bad joke.”
“Oh, that’s alright.” He carries the boxes to the door, setting them down carefully, and then rising back to his full height. You swallow the lump in the back of your throat.
“Well, John,” you say it with a hint of sarcasm, and it conveys your doubt. That’s not your real name, is it? “It was nice to meet you.” You extend your hand, expecting a shake, but he holds it with both of his, back bowing, lips softly pressing the skin of your knuckles, tender touch making your knees weak, your heart swooping and swooning.
“The pleasure was mine, Persephone.”
“Have you given anymore thought to your role in the coming year? Your presence at harvest, or planting, would do-”
“I haven’t.” The wine is too oaky, so earthy it takes like dirt, the opus of your mother’s existence, and you swallow it down in silence.
“Persephone.” She chides, like she has a million times before. “If you just tried, a little harder-“
“I am Spring, mother. Life. Rebirth. Fertility.” You ignore her wince. “But that doesn’t mean I’m well suited for crops, and grain, and harvests.”
“It means exactly that. Otherwise, the Greenhouse would not exist.” Her knife slices into a bloody piece of meat, red dripping down the sterling to her fingertips. “Why must you fight your destiny?” Your mind wanders to your visitors the other day, the sisters. The Moirai. Does she know? Is that why she’s saying this? Did she send them? “You spend so much time actively trying to deny me, holed up with your flowers and silly little house plants-“
“It is you who denied me.” Her eyes narrow. “You who didn’t want me to become a fertility goddess, who wanted me to be some weapon of green light, to be the spitting image of you. You raised me to be a threat!”
“Is it so wrong, that I did not wish for my daughter to become a common whore? That I had hoped to prevent her becoming such a failure? That I dreamed of her becoming so much more than… what sits before me now?” The words do not shock you anymore. You’ve grown to expect them.
That does not mean they do not sting.
“It is wrong that you kept me locked in this house, away from the world, until I was too strong for you to control.” You spit, fork clattering against your plate. Rage sears white at the edge of your vision, overflowing bouquet of flowers in the center of the table blooming into massive blossoms, edges of petals beginning to curl inward.
“Control yourself.” She warns. “Or I will do it for you.” Your pulse thunders. The air in the dining room crackles.
You do not relent. Rationally, you know you should. You know this will only end one way, that this will sever another tie to your past, to your mother, one you won’t be able to repair… but you can’t stop. The magic itches under your skin, screaming.
The ivy that covers the outside brick shatters a windowpane above her head, springing through the opening like a virus seeking a host, sticking to the inside wall. Glass falls to the floor, rain pelts the roof.  
“Persephone.” Shining silver spools, churning across the table, through the air until it takes form-
The Whip.
Your mother’s favorite.
It licks your skin, your fingertips, your knuckles. A different touch, from the reverent kiss you received only hours ago. It cracks through the air like the lightning.
“That’s enough.” She vows.  
You will not cry. You won’t. You won’t let her get to you like this anymore. You’re a woman now. An adult. You’re not a child, you’re not, you’re not- 
She sighs. Your fingers clench the stem of the wine glass so firmly you think it might shatter.  
You finish your meal in stiff silence. Its heaviness droops all around you, blanketing the entire table, your fork, the distance between you and your own mother. It’s an eon. A millisecond. Never enough because you always crave more. More space. More time. More distance. Her eyes spark, anger burning hot behind them, but she says nothing.
When she’s finished, she rises from the table without another word, disappearing down the hall.
Happy Birthday, you guess.
In the middle of the night, the Greenhouse is quiet.
Even the plants slumber, most of the daylight seekers, pistils, stamens, all covered by their petals, lying in wait. In the back, you pad along the floor of moss, allowing the tiny tendrils of green to skim along your bare skin, pulling opulent, indulgent specks of power into themselves. Wisteria lines the walls, tiny blooms of purple and white falling like curtains of stars, only parting for the archway that leads to the spring, a small freshwater lagoon that spills from the crust of the earth as hot as tea, bubbling eternally, waiting for you.
Tonight, the water is ethereal. Steam rises from the pool, slicking its stone home, and you bask in it, muscle and bone turning languid, supple in the roiling spring. It’s nearly sublime, almost perfect.
Your mother’s voice still echoes. Even now, hours later, you can hear her.
A failure. A disappointment. 
Your knuckles sting from the salt of the Whip, the silver crust that slices so effortlessly, just as it has since you were a child.
You cried a lot, then.
Now, it’s few and far between. You’ve grown, rebelled, retaliated. You’ve become a lost cause.
Ungovernable Persephone. 
The pain still sits so heavily in the bottom of your soul, a wretched, tangible thing that sprouts blackened vine from the earth and a whole manner of other things.
You eye the marble encasement, the walls that harbor the spring. They too, are black. Born from your rage, your sorrow. Your uncontrollable, ungovernable power that grew from the depths of your despair and built you a temple.
The Greenhouse. Your home.
Everyone called it a wonder. A feat, proof of your power. Trees and vines and branches all twisted together, building a harbor, solidifying your presence, your Golden light.
You took your first offering in this place, the glass for the windows and the roof, the final piece of your shelter from the storm, the first stake of your life as a goddess, your life of freedom.
You left your mother’s house that day, only returning now on occasions. You never looked back.
Though, you can still feel the Whip, can still hear it whirl through the wind against your supine form. Can still feel the ridges of scar tissue that never fully healed.
You could have called Nell. Or Hebe. Or Melia. Anyone of them would be here for you. Would listen. Understand. 
Outside the window, an owl hoots.
You sink beneath the water line, magma rushing over every inch of your body, washing you clean of her, of the Whip, of the wounds on your knuckles.
A trembling fawn. Still to this day. 
A wicked daughter to have, they tell her. A vengeful soul. Rotted to the core. 
Ungovernable Persephone. 
Olympus is buzzing, even on its ninth day of rain. It’s a vibration that all manner of beings can feel, creatures, gods, even humans. The ground rattles like there’s a lightning bolt shoved into the center of the rail system, electrifying the wires and tracks, zinging from pole to pole between the buildings and above the streets where cars putter alongside those who walk to their destinations.
When you were a child, the name of the city was almost dirty. It made your mother’s nose turn skyward, disgust and disdain clear as the day on her delicate features. “The golden city is anything but.” She promised, on her knees before you, gentle hand at your back. “Those who live there are heathens, and naught else. They would seek to destroy you if they knew the truth.”
For many, many years, you never step foot here.
Not until University. Once you graduated, the rope around your neck, the bit in your mouth began to loosen, and you had already lost your taste for the expanse of metropolis, more interested in your own space outside city limits where you could feel your connection to the earth, where you could indulge your power in privacy.
“It’s not the city she fears.” Melia told you one night. “But Aphrodite. Demeter’s worried ‘Di will knock you right off the whole bloody planet.” She peered over your shoulder, catching the gleam of Apollo, his bright eyes tracking her from across a crowded bar. “Trust me. She’s a jealous bitch.” 
Tonight, the city is waterlogged, soaked to the bone, raindrops splashing as you slide from the car to the black door tucked inside a black wall, a soft faced Harpy standing in front of the passage.
“Hebe. Persephone.” She greets, turning to your other companions. “Nephelle. Melia.” You pull your power through the earth that sits beneath cracked concrete and heavy asphalt, spinning your Cloak up and over your body, adjusting your appearance just so. Your mask slips into place, obscuring nearly all your face, both Nell and Melia pulling together something similar.
“Ocypete.” Hebe pauses. “Is there a riddle tonight?” The Harpy grins, flashing rows of too sharp teeth, fine points that can cut the flesh from bone in a clean bite.
“No riddle.” The door creaks wide, and she steps aside. “Enjoy your evening.”
You don’t notice the way her eyes linger after you’ve passed.
Aselegia is one of the safest places in the Olympus. Here, Golden ones must be Cloaked, mortals must be masked, and creatures must go to great lengths to hide their identity. All intermingle with one another, safe in the anonymity. Gods and Goddesses usually choose to mask as well, a practice, you believe, stemming from common occurrences of violent jealousy, an effort to prevent becoming the target of one’s wrath.
The club itself is big enough to get lost in. The first floor houses the lobby, and a set of elevators. The walls are covered in shiny waxed mahogany, red wine rich carpet covering the floor, and it smells different, sweet and smoky, cigars and finely spun sugar. Intoxicating.
The elevators will take you anywhere you have access, and most can visit three floors. There’s a dancefloor on the main level, with a giant bar, private rooms in the wings, bottle service, tables. Very standard. Other floors have gambling tables, quieter music, even a dimly lit pool and sauna.
It isn’t until you get above level three that things change. Endorsements or sponsors are required. Waivers need to be signed. Negotiations begin.
Pick your poison. 
You start on the main level tonight. Melia insists, and you agree, grateful to the Oceanid for suggesting starting slow, the low rumble of nerves still present in your magic, your body. The music thumps, high to low song and symphony synthesized into something electronic, and it draws you into a sway, shoulders against shoulders, hips moving in time with the melody.
“Shots?” Hebe brightens, waving over a cocktail waitress, a pretty thing who eagerly does her bidding, enraptured with the way she moves in the skintight, cornflower blue dress. Her Cloak has disguised her well enough that no one would know who she is, but she does not ever manipulate her body. A cherished rule of her own, you’ve learned.
“You’re beautiful.” The girl coos, and Hebe nods, singing over the explosion of Nephelle’s laughter.
“I know, sweetheart.”
A slick sheen of sweat coats the space between Melia’s breasts. You’re both on the dancefloor, moving with the music, Melia perfectly in time, like she was born to it, and you pull her close, slinging an arm over her neck to whisper in her ear.
“He’s here.” A god’s dark eyes glint in the night, between the passages of writing bodies. He wears a white mask, stitched with the threads of glowing sun, but his obsessive gaze gives him away. He’s transfixed, focused solely on the Oceanid in the middle of the dance floor, and she giggles, turning so that her ass is pressed against your pelvis, her head tipped back on your shoulder.
Her hand extends, an invitation. A request.
He’s by her side within a second.
“Apollo.” You nod, and he barely spares you a glance, too busy cradling his Oceanid’s face.
“You have been ignoring my calls.”
“I’ve been busy.” He tenses.
“You’re still angry with me.”
“Of course, I am.” She rolls her eyes. “We’re here for Sephy’s birthday, not this.” He peeks towards you, sliver of regret flashing across his face.
“I’m sorry, Persephone.” You wave him off, not wanting to be in the middle of… this.
“It’s fine, we’re just… out. It’s not for anything special.” You look away from them, casually glancing around. You look, but you do not see. Not until…
There’s a male, wearing a pitch-black suit. A god? A mortal? He’s taller than anyone else in the room, broadest shoulders and proud posture, everything about him drawing you in, like blood in the water.
The room stands still. Silent. Empty, save for two.
Tempered water like glass, undisturbed. An undertow vicious beneath the surface, unknown to all.
“Hello.” The pitch of his voice is familiar, almost dreamlike, something that’s never been real, yet startling all the same.
“H-hi.” You stammer. His hand reaches, a magnetic force pulling yours from where it’s clawed against your thigh, and he grasps it like he’s cupping a dahlia bloom, a fragile collection of so many petals that make up an entire beautiful blossom, a universe unto itself.
Black leather caresses your skin. Clear, golden-brown eyes pin you in place, anthracite spiking around his pupils in a halo. You cannot see his face, or his skin, only what’s barely visible of his eyelids and dark spun lashes.
Still… 
His beauty is terror. It’s the throat of a lamb, freshly cut. The mutilated carcass of a doe, feeding a forest. Dark. Dangerous. A wolf, circling a kill.
It drags you out into a river, where your feet no longer touch the bottom. It sings to you from the depths.
You cannot tear yourself away.
He does not let go. Even when that same voice fills your mind.
“My darling. You shall rule all that lives and moves, you shall have the greatest rights among the deathless gods: those who defraud you and do not appease your power with offerings, reverently performing rites and paying fit gifts, shall be punished for evermore.” *
Warmth slips from your hand, sand flitting through your fingers, a fleeting touch of comfort and confusion fading into the night.
My darling. 
My darling… 
When the light comes back to you, the male is nowhere to be found. Only Apollo and Melia stand to your side, still in their own world.
“Will you let me take you upstairs then?” He croons, and your heart dances, nerves and anticipation all spiraling together like a sailor’s knot. You know what comes next.
“Only if the girls can come.”
You try to forget the strange encounter on the main level and focus on your needs instead; you’ll know what you’re looking for when you see it, and you say the same to Hebe, too, when she disappears with a male who seemed much too large to not be the son of a giant, leaving you alone on a small, velvet couch, Nell and Melia already long gone. Your second martini sits untouched, and you keep yourself from looking at any one being too closely, lest you get caught staring.
That’s when you see him.
Light blue eyes. Handsomely styled mohawk. Even with a Cloak and mask, he’s hard to forget.
John.
His mask is a red skull, covering nearly all his face, the sculpted brow severe, almost angry.
His eyes glow behind it, locked on yours.
Oh. Shit. You vibrate like a live wire, hanging onto yourself for dear life.
“Hello.” Your mouth doesn’t work. “I’m Soap.” He extends his hand, and you blink. Oh, right. The alias. Because what is the point in all this, if you give your real name?
“K-kore.” You manage to stammer, and the corner of his eyes crease.
“Why are ye here?”
“I’m sorry?”
“What are ye looking for, little goddess?” He still has not dropped your gaze, and you can almost taste him on your tongue, feel him in your mind, your body.
Myself.
Your teeth dig downward, pressing hard before you whisper the truth.
“Pain.” His eyes flash, and then he tugs.
John- Soap, takes you to a private room. You follow, numbly, shivering with a million emotions, stumbling through the chances, the possibilities of seeing him twice, when before he was a stranger.
A coincidence, you decide, putting it out of your mind. You’re dwelling on it too much, picking it apart, riling yourself up… over nothing. Over a handsome god, existing in the Golden city? Like you’ve never seen those before… like it’s so unbelievable.  
“Are ye alright?” He murmurs, stepping up to your back. You can feel the heat of him, his warmth bleeding from beneath the suit to your exposed skin, the dress you chose wholly exposing your spine, your skin.
Your nipples tighten. Your heart races, and your thighs press together inadvertently.
“Yes.”
“Dinnae lie.” He’s gentle in the reminder, and you fill your lungs.
“I’m just… nervous.”
“Ye’ve done this before?” He’s assuming. You nod, quickly, and he motions to a very comfortable looking lounge chair, where you perch on the edge of the cushion. “What would make ye happy tonight?” Anxiety unsettles your posture, and you choke down the embarrassment that tries to claw its way up your throat.
“A… a spanking.” You whisper, pushing flimsy confidence forward. Far away, a piece of your mind, your magic, pleads. It cries, it begs for release. It urges you forward, and you lift your face to his, seeking approval. Comfort.
Reassurance.
The cold hand of doubt rears. It snickers at you. It laughs.
Reassurance from someone, anyone but yourself? Comfort? 
No. 
“Do ye-“
“My safe word is flower.” You spit, motioning to the stool that waits between you.
It’s an act. A song and a dance, something fake and forced. But he doesn’t know that.
He freezes. Thick tension runs the gamut, heavy and exhausting, and you smother yourself, your emotions, your reactions to this very moment.
Pain. The desire burns. It pushes you to the zenith, until you’re down on your knees, folding yourself forward.
Pain, to turn it off. Pain, to make it all stop.
Pain, to release you into yourself. 
What matter of creature are you, that you can only feel whole, when parts of you are carved away? 
“Up.” John commands, and you lean back, confused. “Ye’ll do this over my knee.” He bends you, with grace, back towards the soft cushion, laying comfortably, your palms flat.
A hand coasts over the swell of your ass.
“Ye’ll count.” His voice has shifted. Gone is the feather’s edge, now replaced by steel. His accent still rings true, but there’s a firmness to it, a finality. Dominance.
“Yes.”
“Ye’ll tell me yer name, and today’s date, when asked. If ye cannae answer, we’ll stop. Immediately.”
“Okay.”
“I need a yes.”
“Yes.”
“We’ll go to ten, then.” We.
“I can take more.”
“We’ll decide what ye can take, when we get there.” You acquiesce, fingers digging down into the cushion before forcibly relaxing. “Big breath.” He coaches, and then-
The first slap stuns you. Only with his hand, and yet still so much stronger than last time with a paddle. It punches air from your lungs, the noise that rockets out of your throat a mix between a scream and a moan.
“F-fuck.” You croak. “One.” He doesn’t hesitate and rains the next one down on your opposite cheek. Again, it robs you of oxygen. “Two.”
“Good girl.” The praise is very small flame at the bottom of the darkest well. It barely lights the path ahead, desperately trying to catch, to grow, but it’s too easily snuffed out. His palm rubs the base of your spine to the tops of your thighs.
Crack. 
The sting sizzles outward from impact, and you gasp. “Three-“ Another, same cheek. “Four!” The whistle of the swing alerts you a second before the next, and when you shout “Five!” it sounds off kilter.
“What’s yer name?”
“Seph-Persephone.” Raw warmth simmers beneath your dress and underwear, and the fire at the bottom of the well starts to rage, growing larger, eating what it’s been given, hungry, seeking, trying to build momentum. He asks you the date, satisfied at the lack of delay, and swings so high, you can see the shine of his palm from the corner of his eye. Your toes curl.
Whack. Two, too quickly.
“Six!” A choked cry. “Seven.” Your face is wet, saltwater tracing the plush swell towards your mouth and chin. You sniffle.
“I know, I know. Ye poor thing.” He bunches the fabric of your dress, scratching it across your scorched cheeks. “Ye’re doin’ so well, almost there.” The words barely register, only the sentiment cuts through the haze. Your thighs are pressed so tightly together, slick dripping from your cunt, the aching throb of your clit rubbing against your panties. You’re desperate… to be touched, to be hurt, to be whole. You need it. Crave it more than anything else.
He delivers two more strong, healthy, swift blows. Eight. Nine. They enflame you completely, fire burning in the pit of your soul, encasing you in a coffin where no one can hear you, or see you. Safe and tucked away, floating into a dark cocoon of eternal night.
At the tenth, the room changes. The air grows colder, nearly frigid, shadows clinging to the walls, and you barely register being moved, held like a child, tucked into a chest. There’s talking, somewhere, in your mind or maybe behind you, two pitches at war, a dance of wills.
“Beautifully done, darling.” Somewhere far, far away, in the last sliver of your sane mind, you realize it’s a different voice, a voice echoed in gemstones, ruby and emerald and pearl, before that too, slips into space, and you drift deeper inside the luxurious praise. A warm bath. A sunlit meadow with thousands of Narcissus dotting the hill, soaking up every ray. A golden fawn, taking her first steps to freedom.
John’s face looms into your line of sight, maskless, no Cloak.
“We need a yes.” He murmurs, cupping your cheek. “Persephone.”
“Hmmm?”
“Need ye to say yes, so we can take ye home, take care of ye.” The words don’t match. They don’t click, they catch, they bump against each other, trying to lock into place, failing over and over.
“Supposed to go… home with my friends but-“ Your tongue is heavy, weighted beneath a giant sequoia, and you shiver. The chest that your head bobbles on catches, an arm securing you in place. It’s warm, and firm, heavier than a tree. Who…
“Little goddess.” He prompts, and you sigh, already wistfully unaware.
“’kay, yeah. Yes.”
You’re already slipping away when the world goes dark.
Your eyes open to a strange place.
You don’t recognize any of it, from the massive four poster bed with lithe, gauzy curtains drawn closed on three sides, to a fireplace the size of a giant, roaring, sizzling flame burning endlessly in its hearth. You don’t recognize the room, the black marble floors, polished to a brilliant gleam, one that you can nearly see your reflection in, or the vanity, dark oak housing a hand carved mirror. You’ve never seen the ornate stained glass window before, stretching from floor to ceiling, the size of ten men. You don’t know the bed, sized for a king, emerald silk sheets and a matching duvet, with a million pillows that were just cradling your head. The robe you’re wearing matches, the green only a shade lighter, and you tuck it tight across your body, realizing you’re fully nude.
The fire pops. It pushes a gasp from you, caught off guard, and at the sound, another being in the room stirs from the plush rug just beneath the bed.
A three headed dog.
It, they, stare at you, tongues wagging, eyes wide. Jet black fur, darker than midnight, white teeth so sharp they could rip your throat free in an instant.
You’ve seen this dog before… in pictures. Schoolbooks. You know their name.
Cerberus.
Panic races through your veins, ratcheting your heart rate higher and higher, your body and mind separating, all synapses dizzy with fear.
Oh gods. Where… where are you? What happened? You were just… you were just having some fun, at Aselegia, with John… weren’t you? Where…
Are you dead?  
You reach for your power, digging deep, trying to drag as much as you could to the surface-
Nothing.
You bleat, a scared lamb, in panic. It’s a cry. A scream. An awful sound. You need your rage now, but all you find is fear. You cannot reach your power. There is a blackened lock around it, a casing that holds it away from you, out of reach.
Cerberus whines. They hold their position, tail swishing back and forth, and you scramble towards the middle of the bed. Your ass protests, skin warm and tender against silk. Your knees tuck to your chest, and you force your eyes closed, trying to take long, measured breaths without success.
You’re dead, you’re dead, you’re-
The door clicks. John appears, two palms out, hesitant, and cautious. Your voice shakes, no matter how hard you try to reinforce it with iron will. “G-get away from me.”
“Ye’re alright, Persephone. We’d never hurt ye.” We?
“We need a yes.”
“Need ye to say yes, so we can take ye home, take care of ye.”
Something flickers behind him. A figure, a shape of shadow, shifting.
Dark. Dangerous. A wolf, circling a kill.
The male from the dance floor. He wears no mask now, but the feel of him, the threat of his power, is unmistakable… and familiar. You sputter on it, choking on him and John, the threat of their power combined looming, suffocating. “Oh gods.” You clutch the robe tighter. “Wh-where am I?”
“You know where you are, darling.” The other one says, and you moan.
“N-no. I… I can’t be. I can’t dead. I can’t be here… I-“
“You’re not dead, Persephone.” He cautions. “You’re very much alive.” And shaking, alive and trembling so vigorously you can hear your teeth chattering, chest heaving up and down, desperately trying to suck air inward. Cerberus whines again, and he rubs a thumb behind one of their ears. “Easy, Cerberus. She’s alright.”
“I ca-can’t be here. I have to… I have to go home.” The room seems wet, dollops of tears falling from your lashes, sticking to your skin and the sheets. Reality slams forward, rushing right up against your nonsensical mind.
It takes one gentle pulse of their power, to realize the truth. 
Hades. They’re… Hades. They’re Hades and you’re… you’re in the Underworld. 
Beg. Beg them for mercy. Whatever it is you’ve done, you must try. 
“I’m s-sorry. I don’t know… I don’t know what I did but I swear, I’m sorry, I-“ John tries to reach, seeking your hand, but you curl up into a tighter ball.
“Shhh. Ye hae nae done anythin’ wrong, sweet Persephone. Ye’re alright. Ye’re safe.” Safe? Safe in the Underworld? With them? 
Oh gods. You let Hades spank you. 
“You… you tricked me.” You whisper, raw betrayal and pain weeping profoundly in your heart. You trusted him and…
You are a fool. 
“We did what was necessary.” The wolf-like one says solemnly, gaze heavy.
“Necessary?” You squeak. “What’s… necessary about this?”
“We will explain everything, after we’ve eaten. Or maybe had some more rest? It’s the middle of the night, for you.” What? 
“No… I can’t… I can’t stay here. I have to-“
“Go home? So, you can hide away in your temple, kept company only by your plants and the occasional friend you let inside?” You blink, stunned, mouth dropping open.
“How do you... have you been watching me?” The stained-glass window on the far side of the room shifts, drawing your attention, morphing slowly from a tawny blur to a… screech owl.
“Oh, my gods. Oh…” The room shudders. “You can’t keep me here, I have to go…” Wolves circle, flanking where you sit, precarious and hopeless, a hand in front of your body like it will save you. “Please.”
“It’s alright, darling.” The dark one moves, blurred in shadow, magic blanketing you in a warm, comforting hold, heating your bones, encouraging your eyes to slowly shut.
The last thing you see is the ceiling, your body cradled in the embrace of a stranger.
Morning comes slow.
At first, you don’t open your eyes, even though you’ve been long awake.
If you open them, your fear will be real. It will be valid.
So, you keep them closed. Keep them shut long enough you drift in and out of twilight, until someone clears their throat.
Fuck. 
“Are you going to open your eyes?” His voice is ruby and velvet. You shudder.
“Hades.”
“Technically. One half of a whole, but my loved ones call me Simon.” Your brow flexes at that, and there’s a soft chuckle in response. “Will you wake? It’s well past morning now.”
“Are you going to render me unconscious again?” you hiss, cracking an eyelid. He’s sitting in a posh armchair, oiled black leather beneath his black suit, eyes steady on yours. His face is a map of scars, but instead of seeming rough, or out of place, they naturally suit him, complementing his broad jaw, severe expression, perfectly sculpted bone structure. His nose is crooked, like it had been smashed and rearranged once or twice, but still sits as if it was meant to be, and you wonder how anyone could do anything of the like to Hades.
He's handsome, in a way you expect to die from. 
“Only if you cannot behave.”
“Perhaps I could show you how I behave.” You smile with a full set of teeth, words ending in a snarl, and he huffs another gentle laugh.
“I have seen the victims of your wrath, Persephone. I have no doubt you’d strike me down if you could.” You swallow the nausea in your stomach. Your magic. 
“I want my magic back.” You blurt the demand, not even pausing to consider a more tactful way.
“We did not take it, only… bound it, for the time being. It’s still within you, we would never separate you from your power.” He sighs, a golden pearl rocking in his palm, glinting in the fireplace’s gleam. “Contrary to popular belief, we are not a monster.”
“Then let me go home, if you’re not as they say you are.” His eyes harden, face twisting sour, and then… sad.
“I’ll give you some privacy. There are clothes in the closet. Johnny and I expect you for breakfast, and then a tour… if you’re good. Cerberus will show you the way when you’re ready.”
If you’re good.
Cerberus leads you through a maze of decadent marble and arches.
You follow behind them hesitantly, cautious, and they mind you, slowing when you’ve lagged too far behind.
You can’t help it. You’re mystified.
You expected the Underworld to be dark, and dingy. And while maybe it is on the dark side, with glossy, polished marble, giant onyx columns that blot of the sky, and black stone everywhere… when you peek out the windows, you’re gob smacked.
Beneath wherever you are, which you’re beginning to suspect is Hades’ palace, is lush greenery. A verdant, fertile field lays to the south and the east, wrapping around to the edge of a forest, where you can just barely make out a large variety of deciduous trees. To the North, a river winds, separating the palace from a large meadow and… a town? You shake your head, as if to clear your addled mind and cloudy vision. Is that truly… a town? 
“Asphodel Meadows.” Someone says from behind you, nearly jumping you from your skin.
“Fuck.” You gasp, hand clutching your chest. It’s a man, not John, or Simon, but a stranger, clad in all black.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“It’s… okay. I- what did you say?”
“The town. It’s Asphodel Meadows. A place for mortal’s souls.” He bows. “I’m Thanatos.”
“I’m… Persephone.” He smiles, just slightly.
“I know who you are, my lady.” My lady?
“What do you…” words nearly fail as you grapple. “What do you do here?”
“I am a child of Nyx. The god of Death.”
“I thought Hades…”
“They are the Kings of the Underworld. I am the personification, the embodiment of Death.” Oh.
“You reap.” You whisper. His jaw tightens, and then smooths.
“Your escort is impatient. I think he’s probably ready for his bacon.” He eyes Cerberus, who whines, tapdancing on slick marble.
“Bacon?”
“Yes. He’s very spoiled. Eats better than the Kings themselves.” He motions down the hall. “It’s just that way. Lovely to meet you, my lady.” He gives you another bow, and then turns down a corridor, one that had not been there before, leaving you and Cerberus alone in the empty hall.
“I- you too.”
The Kings, as Thanatos called them, are both seated when you push the incredibly heavy door open. At the sound, John rises, Simon behind him, and the three of you stare at one another for a minute, until Cerberus barks.
“Please, sit.” John motions to the only other place set, a third chair between them. You swallow.
“Uh…”
“We don’t bite.”
“Not unless ye want us to.” John smiles, sinfully handsome in the morning light. It streams into the surprisingly cozy dining room through a group of five windows, all facing east, capturing the light of… a sun?
“Is that a sun?”
“It’s a sun of sorts.” Simon offers. “We have a sky, weather. A sun, a moon. Clouds. Everything that exists in Olympus.”
“Are ye hungry?” You hesitantly lower yourself into the chair, surprised at the array of food displayed. “We ah, weren’t sure what ye liked so, got a bit of everything.” Meats, yogurts, sweets, cereal, fruit, anything you could want laid out in front of you, but it’s something so near to your heart that catches your eye. Portokalopita.
“They are Hebe’s.” Simon murmurs.
This is a trick. They kidnapped you. They’re holding you hostage. You have to convince them to let you go. The warning resounds, and your stomach thrashes.
“I want to go home.” You push the plate of orange cakes away, disappointment flickering across John’s face, exasperation on Simon’s. “Please. I… I appreciate your hospitality and you… you bringing me home for… aftercare,” you grit the word, shame rocketing up your spine. This is what happens when you trust. You let Hades spank you, for fucks sake. And then they abducted you. “but I need to go home. The plants, they need me. My friends-“
“Your friends are used to going days on end without contact from you.” Simon cuts you off, and the blood drains from your face. “Are they not?”
“N-no. They’ll know I’m missing, they will.” Lie. He knows. You know they both know, just by the way the regard you. Half pity. Half amusement. It makes your blood boil. “Fuck you.” You hiss, shooting up in the chair.
“Seph-“ John tries to soothe you, calm you, using your nickname like he knows you, and it only makes you more irate.
“Don’t call me that.” You whirl on him. “I trusted you! I don’t even know you and I let you-“
“That is the nature of Aselegia, is it not?” He counters, cutting you off. You gape like a fish. “The anonymity. Dinnae turn it on me now.” His tone melts from ice to warmth, sympathy bleeding from his irises. “I assure ye, we are more than trustworthy. We would never, ever hurt ye. We would never let anythin’ happen to ye. Ye’ll see.”
“Then let me go home.” He shakes his head sadly but says nothing, and rage snaps in your heart like the drawback of a rubber band, stinging and sharp. “What do you want from me?” John opens his mouth, and then abruptly closing it, deferring to Simon.
“You are our guest. We’d like to get to know you. I promise, just as before, you will not be harmed in our care. We will never hurt you."
"How do I know that?" You’re incredulous. “You expect me to take you at your word?”
“Let us strike a deal then.” He declares, and John nods supportively.
Don’t, your good sense screams. Don’t be an idiot.
“What kind of deal?”
“You will stay here for two days, forty-eight hours exactly. We will show you this realm and get to know one another in that time, and at the end, we will reveal the doorway that leads back to Olympus.” You raise an eyebrow.
“Two days? And then I can go home?”
“Two days.” John echoes. Sapphire eyes gleam, and you carefully, quickly, try to pick apart every word in the proposal.
“My magic.” You demand, and they both answer immediately with a resounding,
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Your power is wild, Persephone.” Simon tells you, not unkindly. “We do not know how the Underworld will react to it, and we must think of our residents, all the souls we care for here. We cannot let something upset the balance that is so delicate.” Your mouth goes a little dry. You were expecting more of an answer about control, domineering you, your magic, keeping you contained. Not… care for souls.
“Yer mother raised ye to be her weapon.” John says softly, kneeling before the chair where you sit. His hand rests on the cushion, and you wonder if he means to touch you. “We dinnae regard ye as such, but until we understand ye better, we need to protect-“
“I understand.” You cut him off. You don’t need some forced sympathy, pity, thrust upon you by Hades, of all gods. They exchange a long glance, one that gives you a small peek into their lives, layers on layers of words and sentiment, communicated with a single glance.
Simon reaches for John, pulling him to his feet and into his body, chest to back.
“Do you agree?” Two days. Two days and you can leave. You can do two days of anything. You certainly cannot fight them, or your way out. What choice do you have? 
“Sure.”
“We need a yes, darling.” Darling. The pet name makes your toes curl. You take a big breath.
“Yes.”
The valley outside of Asphodel Meadows is one of the most stunning places you’ve ever been. It’s lush and lively, covered in Narcissus and Asphodelus, like a meadow one could only dream of. You're not sure why it feels so familiar, like the cusp of another life, or a nightmare, but it takes root inside you. You lay in the field of flowers, letting them cover your body, wishing so desperately to touch your magic, so you could truly feel them, the grass and the dirt and the stems here, all things that seem like they’re so full of life, so opposite your expectations of the Underworld.
“Shall we continue?” Cerberus perks up at the sound of their master’s voice, head popping over the flowers to spot both Kings standing on the path, a good distance away. They peek at you, heads tilted, and you sigh. It seems you’ve been assigned a minder, in the form of a three headed dog.
You join them on the road before long, walking silently, sullenly, John sneaking glances at you nearly every chance he gets, and you can pinpoint the heat of his gaze every time, the throbbing intensity of his focused power nearly bowling you over.
“So, there are two of you?” What are you supposed to talk to the Kings of the Underworld about, anyway? 
“Aye. It’s a little-known secret. One realm, two gods to rule.” You frown, perplexed.
“But… you haven’t always been that way?”
“No.” Simon answers. “We were once Golden brothers in battle, long before your time, before becoming this. When we fell in love, our souls split. They merged with our magic, tied us together eternally. Now, we rule as one.”
“So, you’re married.” You deduce.
“In the most permanent way you can think of.” They stop short of a bridge, one that crests high over a roaring river, and Simon gestures broadly. “Persephone, this is the Acheron.”
The Underworld is a place of rivers, you learn. Waterways that hold power, that possess the ability to cleanse you, free you, burn you, punish you. There is a river of fire, a river of weeping, a river to forget.
The Acheron is the river of woe.
Fitting, you think, standing on the bridge. Below, bright turquoise water rushes by, crashing into rock and boulder, each sound more akin to a scream than the thunder of a tributary. Mouths, long and full of despair, wail beneath the current, wraith like creatures with bone white skin and eyes skimming along the top.
You get lost in them. Lost in the irreversible cycle of woe, desolation creeping up inside your own self as you peer down into the depths. Are you not like them? Despondent. Bleak. Isolated. Is that not what you’ve made with your life, what was chosen for you? Hidden away, sharpened like an axe never to be used. Are you not alone, like them? Trapped, like them? 
You don’t even realize you’re leaning forward until pressure rests at your back. “Easy. Dinnae want ye fallin’ in.” John murmurs, stepping away the edge, bringing you with him. Your limbs feel shaky, and you wonder if it’s because you just almost went over… or because you didn’t eat earlier.
“Sorry. I uh-“ you don’t know how to explain it, that feeling. The agony that bubbles up in the back of your throat.
“We know.” Simon regards you with empathy, understanding, and you shake the attention loose, pushing ahead of them, down the bridge and into town, into Asphodel Meadows itself, eager to leave the river and its woe behind.
In town, the Kings are well received. It surprises you, to watch them in the street, welcomed by the souls who live there. They take you on a tour, introducing you to residents, explaining the structure, the magic and the infrastructure that makes it all work. Souls take their preferred form in Asphodel Meadows, allowed to choose for themselves, whatever they feel most comfortable in, and you’re shocked that such benevolence would be bestowed upon anyone in the Underworld.
Why are they showing you this? Why go to such great lengths? What is the purpose? 
“Hi.” A small voice breaks you from your confusion, and you find a small girl at your feet, bouquet of Narcissus clutched in her tiny hands. You crouch.
“Hello.”
“I’m Phoebe.” She giggles, cheeks round and rosy.
“I’m Persephone.” You incline your head. “Phoebe is a beautiful name.” Your heart pangs. She’s so small, so… fragile. How did she die? Where is her family? Is she here alone?
“Thank you, my lady.” She tries to bow, and you rush to stop her, stilling her with a hand.
“Are those for me?”
“They are. Johnny said they’re your favorites.” Johnny? You glance over to where they stand, both turned your way, something unreadable in their reflections.
“Well, thank you. They’re lovely.” She wishes you well, skipping off in another direction, and you meander across the street, unable to hide your quizzical expression.
“Johnny? Not Hades?”
“Ach. The kids they’re… they’re usually a wee bit scared, first thing. It’s better for them, if we’re friends.” He shrugs, but Simon watches him in reverence, pure love and light beaming from his gaze, adoration in every slow blink.
Your heart skips.  
Fuck. 
“Are you not hungry?” Simon muses, walking beside you and John in the castle. Your shoes tap along the way, echoing, and Cerberus barks. John glares at them.
“I… I am afraid to eat here.” They both stop short.
“Why?”
“I have always heard… a myth. That if you somehow find yourself here and you eat, you’ll become trapped, stuck here forever.” Simon chuckles, dry and warm.
“No, darling. Please, we do not wish for you to starve.”
“The legend isnae true. Only by eating whole pomegranate seeds that ye pluck from the flesh of the fruit yerself, can ye become bound to the land. And we dinnae serve those.” He winks, stepping a little closer. “Ye can eat, little goddess. Please. Join us for dinner, we insist.”
“Okay.”
Simon is not at dinner.
John makes no mention of it, and only when you’re halfway done does he offer an explanation, something important that needed to be tended to.
“Ye look stunning.” He hums, and you have half the decency to smile. You chose a dress from the never-ending closet, black to match their suits, for fun. Its back is open, and the front offers a generous view of your breasts, but not quite enough.
You felt like sin. Johnny has been staring like you are. And maybe, you didn’t want sex, but you did want to punish them for their treachery. If only a little bit.
For making you a fool. 
“So, no Simon?” He swallows a mouthful of red wine.
“He apologizes. Somethin’ came up.”
“That’s alright.” You shift, legs crossing. The transition is unintentional, but it draws Johnny’s eyes to your knees, and up. You lift your glass, the largest goblet of red wine you’ve seen, and allow a small river of red to run from the corner of your mouth to your neck. It traces the valley between your breasts, and Johnny growls.
“Persephone.”
“What?” You ask, innocently.
“Ye’re playing with fire.” He grits, the gleam in his eyes one of a predator.
“I’m not playing with anything,” you hiss, slamming the glass down. It shatters, it sloshes, it spills onto the table and into your lap. “You’re the ones playing with me. Kidnapping me, holding me hostage.” Your anger builds, overflowing inside your soul, clawing at the locked box of your magic. Cerberus whines, galloping across the floor and out the main door, but you hardly notice, too focused on spitting as much fire and venom at your captor as you can. “Touring me around the Underworld, making yourselves look like some benevolent, beloved rulers when really all you are… are gods of death and decay.” John stares at you, wild eyed. Your chair clatters to the ground as you stand, fury rocketing through every vein in your body, ichor pulsing beneath your skin. You’re so, so close to your power; you can taste it. Can feel the way it screams, how it howls to you, churning in the depths of your being, rattling the cage it’s trapped inside.
Trapped. You’re trapped. Like always. 
Your vision blurs, and you take a step towards John. It all happens so fast, so lightning quick that it doesn’t even register until your hand is swinging through the air and across his face.
He does nothing. You feel the rumble of his power, pushing and pulling at the seams of your very being, waiting to tear your apart, but he holds himself at bay.
Only watches you with cold, wrathful eyes.
The air chills.
“That’s enough.” Simon stands between your bodies. Power, so potent, so strong, wraps tight, shoving your wrists together, Golden cuffs immobilizing you, holding you still. “You want to be a disobedient little brat, is that it?”
“YOU STOLE ME!” You scream it, raw and agonized. It tries to burst through your skin. Tries to explode your vessels. Your very heart. Your chest heaves, eyes wide, and John flanks you, coming closer and closer until you can feel his heat against your side.
He’s hard.
“What did ye think ye were doin, sweet Persephone? Did ye really think you could strike me?”
You don’t have an answer. Words die on your tongue. Guilt burns. Did you want to hurt him? 
Did you?
The cuffs yank you forward. They singe your skin, dragging you to the table. “What’re you doing?” They drag you across the food until you're climbing on top, until your whole body is prone, feet dangling above the floor, bent at the waist.
“Is this what you wanted?” Simon mocks. Hands grip your hips, and your traitorous body clenches. “This what you need, little goddess? Need to be punished?” Your dress is shoved up around your waist, exposing your skin to the frigid air, and you force away a small moan. “You need your pain, darling?” Yes. Fingers pinch the back of your neck. “Answer me.”
“Yes.” You snap, darting daggers with your eyes over your shoulder. His answer is a chuckle.
“Turn your head.” He hisses, hand on the back of your skull. When you do, you come face to face with Johnny’s hips, the length of his cock freed from his suit pants and bobbing right in front of your mouth.
Oh, gods. 
He strokes it slowly, the pink- nearly red tip oozing pre-cum, long and thick in his fist, his size enough to make your thighs press together, cunt throbbing with delight. Traitor.
“Open, darling.” He smears it against your lips. You tuck them in tight, trying to keep them closed, and he looks over, to the god who stands at the curve of your ass.
Simon takes a handful each of your cheeks, spreading you wide. He kicks your feet too, knocking your legs into an A-frame, fully exposing your weeping cunt.
“She’s dripping.” He announces, a finger sliding through your folds, body jolting with his touch. He circles your clit, barely, not enough, and you whine indignantly. It’s enough to loosen your lips, enough for Johnny to grasp your jaw, shove the tip of his thumb between your teeth, and then pry you open.
Once he gets the tip of his cock against your tongue, it’s over. Salt and earth dab along your tastebuds, and you drool on the table, trying to breathe through his rhythm, trying to focus as Simon tucks a finger into your hole, slowly pumping in and out, occasionally pulling free to swirl it around your untouched rim.
One finger inside you is enough to burn, heat rising through your belly, walls clenching tight, and John groans, pressing into the back of your throat, cutting off your airway.
“So good, all day.” Simon grits, stroking your clit in tiny circles. “Sweet Persephone, and now,” he’s building you closer, so close to the precipice, to the top of the mountain where you’ll hope he’ll throw you off.
But it’s not enough. 
“I know darling, don’t worry. I’ll give you your pain.” He croons. John thrusts hard, drives into you vigorously, head thrown back. There’s a sheen of sweat on his neck, and you watch a slow rivulet dip beneath his collar. He’s so… they’re so…
A hand cracks across the tender skin of your ass, rippling out like a shockwave. You choke.
You clench. The tide rises.
“Fuck. There you go.” Light dances in front of your eyes, small pinpricks of stars, and you gurgle on the dick that shoves down your throat. Another strike, the same side, and you cry out, gasping for air. The tip of his finger gently pushes against your rim, and then it’s replaced with a mouth, a hot, intrepid tongue, swirling around as your hips buck and he plays with your clit.
You’re going to die. You’re going to explode. You need more. 
You try to tell him, try to choke it out around John’s shaft, but it’s like he knows, like he’s reading your mind, and he pulls away to dig his teeth into the plump swell of your ass, biting down so hard you think you’re bleeding.
No. You are. 
You scream.
Rivers of ichor paint your skin. The next spank comes directly over the puncture wounds, and instead of screaming in pain, you moan in pleasure, head held in Johnny’s hands, your face a tool for him to fuck, your pussy squeezing down around the single finger stroking in and out of your body. He swings again, and again, fire lighting behind your eyes, explosions going off one by one, your orgasm cresting, rising in the swell of an enormous wave, and just as you’re about to come, Simon plunges a finger deep into your ass, shoving you off the mountain.
To where they catch you below.
The rest is a blur. John finishes down your throat, salt and sweat and tears all mixing in your mouth, and he moans your name as he gives you a belly full of seed.
You’re limp, floating, drifting higher and farther than you ever have before, not in your body, not even in your own mind. Hardly cognizant when you’re picked up, tucked away in the shelter of a chest and carried down the hall. You close your eyes.
You come back a little bit when you’re placed in shallow hot water, a steaming, rocky pool, your face settled in Johnny’s neck. Cloth and deft fingers rub your shoulders, your waist, anywhere you might feel sore, even the bottoms of your feet.
All the while, they talk.
It starts simply, sweet words that fills you up until you can’t take anymore. “Did so well, darling. So good for us.” John murmurs in hushed tones as Simon shifts you, turning you on your belly to run the cloth between your legs and over your ass. It stings, and you hiss, but you’re soothed with an apology, gentle kisses down your spine, each one pressed with praise.
It’s not long before you’re tucked into bed, turned over on your side, some sort of magic and salve being applied to the bite in your skin. You’re gone now, barely aware, barely awake, but with it enough to catch the little bits here and there.
“-talk about it tomorrow.”
“If they’re from Demeter, I’ll-“ No. Not this. Anything but this. Distress catches in your chest, and fingers stroke your cheek.
“Shhh, sweet one. Rest now.” There’s a little touch of magic, a barely there pulse of power, and you let it take you into the soft comfort of sleep, bedded down like a fawn, cradled between two Kings.
*Hymn 2 to Demeter, line 347
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ajortga · 2 months
Text
sweet
pairing: jenna ortega x fem reader
summary: after filming, jenna decides to relax for some coffee, not expecting to meet you and fall in love with girl that makes her knees weak.
word count: 1.9k+
part 2
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Jenna can remember meeting you like it was yesterday.
At a coffee shop, not too far from the scream set in New York City.
She roamed around, it was evening, the sun was going to set soon, Jenna could tell the way the sky slightly became yellow, getting the slightest pink.
Jenna liked sunsets.
She had just finished filming for a scene, her headphones were on and she needed some fresh air. 
Her noise cancellation was on, walking the streets as she felt her stomach rumble quietly, she was hungry.
She looked around for a place to snack as she looked around, a famous pizzeria was definitely not what she needed.
She turned a corner and she saw a place that was made out of caramel bricks, plants neatly outside with vines hanging from head to toe, she could see the warm welcoming presence on the inside, lanterns hung from the ceiling.
She didn’t really like coffee.
It was so bitter the first time she tried it, of course she didn't know (till recently) that she ordered black coffee with no sugar or creme and almost choked it out.
So she stopped, if anything it added less sleep along with her insomnia.
But she went anyway, the vibe felt comforting. Plus there had to be more than just bitter coffee.
She pushed the door open, a small ding being heard.
Then she could smell the soft scent of coffee and fresh pastries lingering, she felt her hands cold, but her gaze shifts up, and she can feel her whole body warm, like a cozy fire, suddenly, she felt nothing but a daze of love shock.
Her eyes meet your figure, your hair was in a messy bun, a ruffled beige apron tucked around your body over a blouse, pouring creamer in a latte cup, a flower design being made as you traced the coffee with soft hands.
Your focused eyes shift from the cup to her, she can see a small glow in your warmth, they soften as you smile, waving. Softly, but loud enough to hear over her headphones, you saying, “Welcome!” 
She can feel her lips twitch into a smile, tucking her scarf beneath the nape of her neck, it was already warm enough here.
She looked up at the menu, so much to choose from.. And so many flavors.
She bit her lip, in thought as she was stuck, there was a lot.
But so much coffee, she may have not liked coffee the best, but coffee with this many flavors could change her mind.
She was there for a long moment, until you spoke up, you were in front of her, thinking she was going to order, she was standing in front of the cashier after all.
“Trouble choosing what you want?” You ask, tilting your head.
That took her out of her trance, taking her headphones off and wrapping them around her neck. She finally realized where she was standing, in front of the damn register.
“Oh I’m so sorry, I can be kind of clueless when I have headphones on, uh, um. Oh yes, I’m not so sure what to get, I’ve never been here.”
You give her a smile, and she can swear she feels her legs wobble, she could drown in those eyes. So pretty..
“Don’t apologize, please. Don’t worry, it’s okay not knowing what you want, to be honest I think you would like a drink. I think you would like our french vanilla or pumpkin spice latte.. With a sprinkle of cinnamon. How does that sound? This is just my recommendation, I could be wrong, but I think I can read what people should get pretty well! They end up liking it. Don’t count on me though,” You breathe with a little laugh. You sound adorable when you laugh. Your lips are perfect. Kissable.
She feels something she hasn’t felt in so long, butterflies. 
You were so sweet, something about you made her not want to tell you she didn't like caffeine or the taste. 
You just called her love, if anything the color of love was on her cheeks.
“I.. Um.. Yes, I’ll take that. Can you mix those?…”She was going to say your name but didn’t know it, looking down at your name tag, Y/N/L/N. “Uh.. Oh Y/N."
“Of course I can! One french vanilla spice coming up! Anything else you would like? Our pastries just came out of the oven if you’re in the mood for that.”
You were pretty. Unlike any other stranger she'd see on the street before.
Jenna looked at the display, her hand pointing to where her eyes landed, “I’ll take one of your strawberry croissants, I never tried that.”
“You never had these? These are perfectly sweet and soft! They’re my favorite. That’ll be $8.13 please.”
She grabbed her card and swiped it, and you smiled, “Thank you Jenna, give me 5 minutes or so.” You looked at the name of her card.
You look at the names of her customers from their card, how cute. You definitely wanted her. (Or so her delusional brain thought.)
After a few minutes of sitting down and lost in her thoughts from the music, (possibly staring at you preparing her drink the whole time,) she hears you call her name in the distance.
Something about your voice had the slightest softness, she never loved someone calling her her name more than now. Y/N/L/N. Your name is pretty. It'll be even prettier when your last name is hers when you're married-
She walked up to you and you handed her a light brown tray, with her latte in a cup, the design with a pumpkin with a small heart on it, and her powdered strawberry croissant. 
“Thank you.” She whispers, taking it gently and going back.
She sits down in the corner of the room, a booth with a pumpkin decoration and vinyls hung, she could see the steam fogging in front of her and just realizes how cold it really is.
She smells cinnamon, a small whiff of it.
She likes the smell of cinnamon. It reminds her of her childhood home on Christmas when snickerdoodles were being made.
She smells vanilla too.
She likes vanilla. She likes vanilla more than chocolate.
Her hands lifts the mug to her lips and drinks.
Immediately she feels the warmth seep through her like a gentle river, she hums at the taste.
The vanilla battles the strong bitterness of the coffee, leaving the smallest trail behind.
The pumpkin spice, she can taste it in the cream, it reminds her of fall.
It tastes comforting. It tastes like the feel of a steamy creamy soup that you have when it’s pouring rain outside. 
It makes her feel soothed. Cozy. Like she’s in her own Gilmore Girls show herself. 
Her lips press to the mug for the second time, sipping it again and it tastes so good. It’s not too sweet nor bitter. It tastes perfect. It warmed her whole body up, even with the freezing temperature.
She places the mug down on the wooden coaster, she’s never had a strawberry croissant before. 
And when she has a taste, she wants to buy the whole shop. Why has she never heard of this before?
There's a sweet fluffy cream in the middle, she can feel powdered sugar coating her lips as she licks them. 
It tasted sweet. It was light and delicious, the custard complimenting the sweetened strawberry. Who knew bread could pair with such. 
“Is it okay for you?””
She turns around and sees you, it seems like the rest of the customers had to go out before the pouring rain began to crash harder.
“It was more than okay, it was so good. I need that recipe,” Jenna jokes, making you laugh.
“The croissant is my grandma’s recipe. I remember she  made it when I first started baking in the kitchen. She thought it was so good that she had to put it on this cafe’s menu. For the latte on the other hand, you just have to know balance and what tastes right.”
Jenna’s slim hands waved a 5 dollar bill in the air, in which you immediately shook your head. 
“Take it,” she giggles.
“No, it’s yours.”
"No."
"Yes."
"If you keep it I'll give you my number."
... That was tempting for you.
“I wasn’t a big fan of caffeine in general. It was always too bitter or too sweet. I think it ruined the experience for me to try anymore. Take this as a word that I’ll be coming often,” she gave you a sweet smile, giving you a piece of paper on top of the money.
You looked at her with, a small grin forming on your face as you looked up, “You win. Thank you. look forward to you being a regular. I'll make your coffee extra lovely and sweet next time," you said with a wink that made Jenna blush.
Jenna’s smile never faltered as she left the coffee shop, seeing your number on her phone as she placed it in her back pocket. But as she tried to slide it in, it seemed a bit cramped as she took out the piece of paper that was blocking it. 
A five dollar bill. The five dollar bill she gave you.
She sighed, shaking her head with a small laugh, you were a smartass sliding the money she gave you back into her pocket without her knowing.
She folded it in her hands, looking back at the coffee shop, wanting to give it back and run so you couldn’t do anything. But as she looked back she could see the fairy lights on the sign dimming, your face behind the glass. You gave her a small playful wink as you flipped the sign to closed, your breath blew on the glass, putting a small heart on the fogginess and walked away.
Something in Jenna made her heart flutter, wanting to go to the coffee shop every day. Every. Single. Day.
But why? When she goes to restaurants she doesn’t seem excited to come again.
She could feel her cheeks heating up as she realized it was because of you. She wanted to come because of you and see your face, to see you giving her that smile or calling her name, to hear your voice as you talked to her, to see your pretty eyes glance down to her lips every once a while once again.
4:25pm
maybe y/n: sweet seeing you today, hope you didn't mind some money back, this is all i need :)
4:28pm
jenna: ooh. getting sweet already? hmmm, you're sneaky! maybe i'll pay you another visit tomorrow. (you reacted with 💗)
maybe y/n: aww, for me?
jenna: i wouldn't count on ittt but maybe it's a 50/50
4:30pm
maybe y/n: i don't think a customer would ask for someones phone number as an agreement?
..
4:35pm
jenna: you got me there
maybe y/n: i know i did jen :p
maybe y/n: don't get ahold of yourself, i still have to know you better ml
jenna: then tomorrow is set.
maybe y/n: tomorrow it issss (jenna reacted with a 😗)
She covered her face and let out a small groan as she came home, her back hitting the mattress as she looked up at the ceiling. She could feel a small grin forming on her face as her eyes sparkled, her nose scrunching.
She liked the girl who lay behind the mug of coffee.
She liked you.
-
a/n: wanted to take a small break on requests, i think i should focus on thinking of my ideas instead of doing request one by one from my inboxes, if that makes sense. requests are soon!
i'm not sure if i'll take some because sometimes these requests don't have any of my ideas in mind so it's hard to write something that feels good<3. enjoy this cute long ish drabble that i made a few months back but never finished<3
581 notes · View notes
onirique-amaranth · 1 year
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⎮Such a gorgeous plant⎮
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⏤ Characters: Baizhu⎮reader
⏤ Warnings: bottom/sub Baizhu, top/dom male reader, vines/plant, implied aphrodisiac, mention of mind-breaking,
⏤ 3.000 words
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For once, your husband came home early, surprising you with his unusual appearance. You were certain that the house would be empty, but unfortunately, it was not.
Though, you were more than glad to have the opportunity to spend more time with your husband.
With the front door half open, you admired the man that wasn't aware of your presence yet. He was sitting on his favourite chair, the dark green leather complimenting his hair and pale skin. As usual, he was reading over his herbarium, checking if everything was in place and sometimes adding small notes to his previous ones.
His long hair wasn't tied in a high bun for once, as it could let you admire how it runs down the back of the chair beautifully, perhaps tempting you to run your hair through it and yank his head back. Baizhu changed his clothes to feel more comfortable, and be able to rest correctly, with crossed legs without the tight fabric of his pants annoying him.
Changsheng who was already fast asleep when you came home, recognized the sounds of your footsteps and left his master's neck to wrap around your forearm with a happy hiss. Chuckling, you carefully patted his head before walking towards your husband.
The said man had already placed down his book and was waiting for you to greet him, his hand gripping the back of your neck when you leaned forward, your lips meeting in a soft kiss. Sensing that it wasn't an innocent kiss, Changsheng went away quickly, hissing when his master almost stepped on him when he stood up, wrapping his arms around your neck to bring you even closer.
Soft pants left Baizhu's mouth when your hands started to wander, caressing his exposed waist before moving to his hips, groping the soft flesh. Moving your mouth to his neck, you gently nibbled on the skin, creating a mark and turning on your husband even more.
The activity of the evening was clear until Baizhu pushed you back, looking at a certain object.
“What is that?”
On the table, was a plant proudly standing inside a pot, that wasn't familiar at all to Baizhu. Chuckling, you told him that one of your clients gave it to you as a tip, as they were extremely satisfied with the work you have done, and you took the plant home with you after they insisted. They even told you that you could sell it at a good price if you didn't want to keep it.
Your husband furrowed his eyebrows, slowly getting out of your hold to step closer to the unknown plant, a bad feeling spreading through his body. Not only its kind was definitely unknown, but he didn't even remember seeing a picture of it in his books. He observed the small plant, a young bud on top of it, and it seemed rather healthy from looking at the bright shade of green.
Baizhu threw you a sceptical look, not certain if it was a good idea to keep a plant like this one at home, especially without knowing its specie. But with your bright smile and sparkling eyes, he couldn't refuse it, as he just nodded in defeat. Still, he made you promise to take care of it, as it was your plant and not his.
With a roll of your eyes, you took the plant with you, moving it to the balcony, so it wouldn't take too much place, and it will have good access to the sunlight. Your husband sighed when you started to think of a name for it, sensing that this plant would be your favourite subject for the following days.
With a tired sigh, he let himself fall onto the chair, lightly spreading his legs and waiting for you to come back. Baizhu came home early so he could spend more time with you, and maybe have some fun, and yet, your attention was entirely set on a damn plant. Rolling his head back, he looked at the door leading to the balcony, impatiently waiting to see you come back in.
When, finally, you stepped back in and closed the door beside you, Baizhu had already called you over, motioning with his finger to join him. Quickly, Baizhu's top and pants were discarded, and he smirked when you rushed to be by his side, leading him towards the bedroom, not wanting to let your husband wait any longer.
Unlike what Baizhu expected, you were taking care of the plant well, it was growing quickly, and it became an even more beautiful shade of green.
Flowers blossomed, and its single body was joined with multiple long vines, that seemed to crawl out of the plot, taking over most of the balcony space. Some vines were even going down your house's wall, and it added a certain charm to the plain-looking house.
Seeing how happy you seemed to take care of it and watch it grow, Baizhu didn't dare to make a comment on it. After all, it wasn't taking up any space inside the house, it was healthy, and you weren't obsessed over it. So he had no reason to complain, but something wasn't sitting well with him. He tried to find the specie of this plant, but none of his books were mentioning it, so he went to buy new ones, hoping he would get more information.
And yet, despite searching for so long, he found absolutely nothing.
A certain day, coming back home feeling a bit needy, to say the least, Baizhu was concerned about not finding you anywhere. Until, he heard a noise coming from the balcony, and he saw you gently cut some rotting vines off the plant while talking to yourself. It wasn't disturbing in any way, as he was doing the same thing with Changsheng, but hearing a soft rustle at the end of each sentence was weird.
He observed you smile warmly at the plant, his eyes running over your back to your legs, and your ankles. Suddenly, he jumped forward and yanked you away from the plant, taking out his weapon to cut the vine that wrapped itself around your ankle without you knowing.
Confused, you scolded him for surprising you and cutting one of the most beautiful vines without a reason. But your husband seemed tense, telling you to get away from this plant and that you shouldn't keep it here. Since you didn't notice how peculiar the plant was, you just thought Baizhu was being paranoid, and you simply waved his worries off.
Another week passed, and this time, when waking up and walking to the kitchen, Baizhu was left with an unwelcome surprise. The plant that was already taking over the whole balcony seemed to not be satisfied yet and started to slide under the door, a few vines were already innocently resting on the kitchen floor. Definitely not happy with this news, he cut off the vines that were inviting themselves inside your home, also cutting short most of the longer ones that were still outside.
You were slightly angry when he told you what he did, but you didn't comment on it, knowing that he knew more about plants than you. Pouting, you nodded when he told you to get rid of it tomorrow, using whatever way you wanted it, but just get it out of your house.
Planning to sell it off at a good price with how big and possibly rare it was, you moved it inside for the night, so you could take it away immediately the next morning.
But it has been your mistake.
As you were at work, your boss asked you to run two more errands that would make you come home late, and you had no choice but obey. And it leads to Baizhu coming back to an empty house, not so empty though, as the plant has taken over most of the entrance.
Before he could do anything, he was swept off his feet, vines crawling under his pants and wrapping themselves around his legs. The thick and powerful vines immobilized him, tying his hands together and crawling under his clothes. Baizhu couldn't do anything when one of the vines ripped his pants, another one sneaked under his top, and one took away his weapon.
He was left unarmed, completely defenceless. The house was empty, he had no idea when you would come back home, and despite screaming your name as loudly as he could, you will never hear. Desperate, he wanted to shout your name again, but a vine took the opportunity to go into his mouth, reaching the back of his throat almost instantly.
As another one sneaked inside, wrapping itself around his tongue, and playing with it, while a vine made its way inside his underwear. When it wrapped itself around his dick, the thicker part resting around his base while the thinner and more rapid part was touching his tip, slowly caressing the slit, tears gathered at his lash line. Baizhu felt himself grow light-headed as an unknown liquid started to get slide inside his throat, certainly being produced by the plant.
He begged in his mind that you would come back quickly, especially when he felt the tip of a vine prod at his ass, pushing against his hole. Two other vines tugged at his nipples, another one playing with his chest, forcing him to grow more and more sensitive. Despite the disgusting feeling of getting touched by something or someone else than you, the weird liquid that the plant produced made him feel good, taking over his senses.
His eyes roll back when the vine around his dick tightens, forcing a whine out of his mouth, letting the two inside it go even deeper. The one near his ass was going to penetrate him, Baizhu could feel it, and just the thought of it made the tears run down his cheeks, begging and mewling as best as he could for you to be back now.
And thankfully for him, he heard the door creaking open and your surprised gasp. The plant surged forward to also capture you, but you were faster, as you took out your sword and slashed all the vines coming your way.
Within a few seconds, you had cut the ones holding up Baizhu and caught him in your arms. Carefully, you placed him down on the sofa before cutting every vine you could see, cursing when one still managed to crawl around your ankle.
The plant seemed to refuse to give up, but when you suddenly yelled at it, everything stopped. Its vines crawled back into the pot and it stopped moving. You stood there, confused and sword in hand, not comprehending what just happened.
The plant waited a few seconds before trying to crawl out again, but you scolded it, and it hides again. Despite the weirdness of it, the plant seemed to take orders from the one who took care of it, and it was you. This means, that it wouldn't dare to go against you in any way, but you were still settled on getting rid of it after what you just witnessed.
Asking Baizhu if he had a solution, he just told you to burn it, not even glancing its way, refusing to see the monstrosity. The plant started to get agitated at his words, but it was already too late, as you used the first thing you saw to burn it to ashes. The plant tried to use its vines to crawl away, but it couldn't do anything as they all got destroyed, and its main body started to burn too.
You looked at the empty pot, a few carbonised vines were still there, but the plant was definitely dead. Immediately, you took the pot and remaining vines outside and placed them next to your door, set on throwing them far away after you check on Baizhu.
Since you placed him on the sofa, he didn't move once, staying in his ripped clothes and his aroused state.
Glancing at you with teary eyes, he begged you to help him, pointing at his dick and hole covered in a weird fluid. Whatever the plant produced was still in his organism, and was fucking with his head, making Baizhu feel extremely sensitive and turned on.
If his body wasn't so weak, he would have been on you already and discarded your clothes, so you could take him. High and desperate, he spread his legs and started to finger himself, mewling for you to come here this instant and fuck him.
You didn't think much, the pain mixed with pleasure on your husband's face made you move instantly, finding yourself in between his legs before he could add anything else.
With your fingers deep inside of him, the odd fluid making the perfect lube, at the same time, you were focused on bobbing your head, his dick deep inside your throat as you give Baizhu the stimulation he needed. He smelled like flowers, the scent intoxicating as you felt yourself get light-headed too.
You pushed another finger inside, loosening his hole, so you could slide inside without pain. Despite the rush you were both in, you wanted to check if Baizhu was really alright with it.
“Baizhu… Is it fine for you?”
He struggled to make eye contact with you, with tears blurring his vision and his mind almost completely empty. Slurred words came out of his mouth, but you managed to make out what he meant.
“Just… fuck me now.”
You ripped off the rest of his clothes, gripping his legs and placing them over your shoulders, ready to penetrate him. Baizhu's body was burning up against yours, the aphrodisiac driving him insane as he sobbed from not having you inside him, grinding his hole against the head of your dick desperately.
He was completely losing his mind, only thinking about cumming and being full of you. You penetrated him as soon as he nodded at you, earning a loud moan out of Baizhu, his back arching as he lifted his hips, grinding against you, moving his ass to force you deeper inside of him.
He could feel you twitch inside of him, precum and an odd fluid coating his insides, his hole getting stretched more and more as you went deeper. The sensation alone could make Baizhu cum, his sensitivity was through the roof when your hips met his ass. His thighs were shaking, and his legs wrapped themselves around you to keep you close, wordlessly begging for more.
It never happened before, but Baizhu could already feel his orgasm near, everything except you was blurry around him, his mind full of you. You don't know what came over you, but you used your dendro vision to tie Baizhu's hands with your own vines, watching as he gasped, his dick twitching and spurting cum onto his stomach.
Another set of vines moved to his cock, getting him off at the same pace you fucked him. The front of your hips slapping against his ass, the sounds getting louder as you went faster, Baizhu's voice was high and strong enough to get over the sinful sounds.
When you leaned forward to kiss him, you swallowed his moans along with some of the liquid that was still on his tongue, feeling yourself get harder inside Baizhu. He gasped, trying to say something, but your mind was already somewhere else. You rammed into him as deep as you could, brushing against his prostate at every thrust, forcing a dry orgasm out of him when you unconsciously made the vine tighten around the base of his dick.
A last vine appears, your vision glowing as you make it take off your clothes and then spread Baizhu's legs even more. He was completely out of his mind, whimpering and mewling, begging for your cum and finally reaching his orgasm.
With the three vines playing with his body, and your dick forcing its way inside his hole, Baizhu felt himself reach his end. The stimulation became too much as his eyes rolled back, the poor man almost choking on his own spit as tears rolled down the blushed skin of his cheeks.
It was overwhelming for him to focus on anything, just begging as greatly as he could to get a kiss, while moving his hips back against you, accompanying your thrusts. When finally, your lips met his in a gentle kiss, despite the situation, he came on the spot. His body was trembling, legs almost spamming around your neck as his head flew back, a loud moan forcing its way out of Baizhu's throat.
Never, had you heard him be this loud. And hypnotized by the view of your lover, your husband, cumming like crazy all over himself, you reach your orgasm. Each spurt of cum filled Baizhu more and more, making him whine from overstimulation.
His body gave out when he finally emptied himself, his body twitching and his mind still not completely functioning. With a whine, Baizhu tried to keep you from taking your dick out, begging to stay in this position.
His teary eyes and trembling lips made you give up, easily carrying him to bed, your dick still inside him as you lay down, covering yourselves with the blanket. Instantly, Baizhu was nuzzling his head into your neck, holding you close as he refused to even let you move to a more comfortable position.
With the aphrodisiac out of his mind, he asked you if you got rid of the plant, and relaxed when you told him that you burned it to the ground.
With a sigh, he softly glared at you, telling you to never bring a plant home ever again without his approval. Nodding your head energetically, you gently kissed his nose, earning a soft giggle.
Calmly, you both drifted off the sleep, Baizhu staying in your arms, not feeling like being apart from you. As your mind was almost blank, eyes closed and your breaths getting deeper, a few words whispered into your ear made your eyes snap open.
“Use your vision on me again, next time.”
“… I liked it.”
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⏤ Thank you for reading! I wish you a great day.
⏤ here is my masterlist & ko-fi ⏤
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3K notes · View notes
priyajoyyy · 2 months
Text
Tangled
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Clarisse la rue x repunzel!pesephone!fem!reader
Reader spent their entire life hidden away in a tower to protect her from the outside world wanting her for her powers, its only when a certain daughter of ares finds her scared and confused, that she finally gets to see the outside world like she always longed to.
Warnings:
Toxic parents, yandere!parents, oblivious!, Clarisse being stubborn, overprotectiveness, cannon typical violence, readers not got the best survival instincts 😭, reader is blonde, more to come maybe
Gods had a weird way of protecting people. And while you could confidently say they your parents were never intending to harm you or your siblings. They definitely went about it in weird ways.
Of course you never realised this, being locked away in a tower your entire life was all you even knew. You didn’t understand that your life wasn’t normal.
You didn’t realise you weren’t the only child your parents had hidden off in magical locations to protect them from Zeus and the dangers of the world in their own twisted ways.
And so you stayed where you were, waiting in your tower for the days that your parents would come and visit or the few creatures of the forest you had befriended came to your window.
With not much else to do but paint or read everyday in the same walls. Your hair growing and failing to ever stop, getting to the point of it being constantly in the way.
🍊☀️🪷
Clarisse was beyond confused.
She was 150% sure they had come the same way they had 100 times before. She was convinced. And yet there had never been a giant tower int he middle of the path all the other times they had taken this route.
Her brother suggested that maybe they took a wrong turning, surely they were just lost.
But Clarisse refused to acknowledge the idea she could even being wrong, no she was curtain they came the right way.
Besides they needed somewhere to camp out for the night anyway, so she took off towards the tower.
“Clarisse what are you doing?” Her brother shouted after her, the girl from the Hermes cabin turning to give him a look of annoyance.
The two followed after the girl, watching for a while as she searches around for some sort of entrance before giving up and turning back to them.
“Come on, we need to find a way up” Clarisse tells the two, not being able to find any sort of entrance other than the window near the top of the tower.
“Why?” The blonde girl asked in annoyance, “can’t we just go find somewhere to settle for the night?”
“Yeah clarisse it’s getting late, we can find our bearings in the morning” her brother added.
“This is somewhere to settle for the night” Clarisse stated plainly, rolling her eyes when the two stared at her in confusion, “it’s a giant tower in the middle of nowhere with no doors…no one’s living up there”
“I don’t know Clarisse…I mean this is meant to be a satyr trail, surely someone’s up there” the boy tried to reason.
“Aren’t you curious?” Clarisse asked, “I know we came the right way, this part of the route is blocked off, there is literally no way we got lost”
She was right, this small section of the trail was hidden away, you could only get in and out through two small entrance/exits, covered by plant life to hide it off.
They had been through the secret path a million times and never once was the tower there.
“Well how do you expect we get up?” The girl asked in defeat.
Clarisse looks around for a moment, before grabbing the bag off of her back and pulling out two daggers and holding them up to the two.
“No” the elder boy stated, to which Clarisse turned and made her way towards the walls of the tower, grabbing onto the vines to test their strength, “no no no Clarisse stop it right now”
The girl ignored him, stabbing the dagger into the wall inbetween the cracks and using both of them and the vines to begin to pull herself up the wall.
“I swear to god Clarisse get down right now!”
“I’ll see if there’s another way to get up once I’m up there” Clarisse calls down to them as they stare at her dumbstruck.
“I’m gonna kill you when you get down!” he called up to her.
“I hate your sister” the blonde said to the boy nonchalantly, collapsing to sit on the floor and wait for the ares daughter to be done you her adventure so they could get to bed.
“Tell me about it” the boy replied glaring up at her as she made her way to the top.
Clarisse made her way up, using the, surprisingly strong vines and plants growing off of the tower as her main support on the way up.
Once she made it to the window she pulled herself up on to the ledge, looking down to see her quest mates sat on the ground talking, rolling her eyes at the sight.
She quietly forced the shutters of the large window open, stepping on the flower bed as she climbed through into the room.
🍊☀️🪷
You hadn’t heard anything while Clarisse had been climbing up the walls, busy in your room painting as she entered into the main room of the tower.
Your hair was laid around the different rooms, leading through doors and hanging from ceilings in an attempt to keep it out of your way, something Clarisse stared at in confusion as she quietly wondered around the room.
She was clearly wrong about no one living in the tower, there were candles and lights lit across the room, and a fire lit int he fireplace.
The kitchen was full of food and everything was relatively clean. And not to mention the yards and yards of hair laid across the place.
That’s what confused Clarisse the most, surely no human had this much hair.
She was shocked out of her thoughts when she stepped backwards, tripped on some of said hair and fell onto the floor, alerting you in the other room.
You heard the noise and turned around quickly, your hair curling round you slightly causing it to tug, getting caught underneath Clarisse and yank on your head slightly. Making you squeak in shock.
Clarisse heard this from the other room, her eyes widening as she looking towards the doors that someone clearly resided in.
Both of you grabbed your weapons, Clarisse clutching one of her daggers, and you running to grab a vase off of a cabinet. Inching your way towards the door that separated the two of you as Clarisse stood up.
Clarisse started to walk up the stairs towards the door as you walked down the hallway, both of you stopping at the door before Clarisse decided to push through it suddenly.
You screamed as the mystery girl collapsed on top of her, hair covering your face as you flailed about, trying to get her off of you as she try’s to find the dagger that she lost on the floor.
“Get off of me” you grunted, pushing the hair out of your eyes and attempting to push her off of you, “who are you?”
Clarisse finally finding her dagger, held it to your throat, causing you to stop fighting back, breathless and staring at the weapon in her hand with wide eyes.
“Who are you?” Clarisse retorted, glaring down at the girl as if she wasn’t the one breaking and entering.
“You’re in my home” you say back in shock, frowning at how the knife gets closer to you.
“And I’m holding the dagger…see how this works?” Clarisse tells you with a smirk, flipping it in her hand as she kept it near your throat.
“I-I’m y/n…” you replied slowly, not knowing what to tell her. Looking at her with wide eyes as she huffs in realisation that it wasn’t the most helpful question to ask.
“Well why do you live here?” Clarisse asks noticing the way the girl looked confused and adding, “I mean you’re in the middle of the forest in a tower with no doors…”
“And I mean what’s going on with your hair, it’s so long” Clarisse continued, “and who uses a vase as a weapon?”
You didn’t really know what to say to any of that, looking at her blankly.
“I…don’t know” you answered eventually, adding in a small voice, “can you please get off of me”
Clarisse sighed, getting up slowly but still holding the dagger pointed towards her as she did.
“Why are you in my house?” You asked meekly, staring at the dagger in fear. Clarisse rolled her eyes noticing your wariness, putting the dagger down to her side to try calm you down.
“I’m not gonna hurt you unless you try anything ok?” Clarisse stated, “I was just looking to see if we could stay the night in here, I didn’t realised anyone lived here or anything”
“We?”
“My friends, well not really my friends but, well they’re just outside” Clarisse told you, “why are you in a tower by yourself exactly? And seriously what’s going on with your hair”
“I just live here…I don’t know what you mean” you answered, “and I guess it’s just my hair…my mum says it’s special”
“Your mum? Special how what do you mean”
“I don’t know it just is” you said, “w-wait, no, I’m not meant to tell anyone that”
Clarisses eyebrows furrowed at that, looking at you as though you were an idiot causing you to blush at her.
“Why can’t you tell anyone about your hair…” Clarisse asked.
“Mummy said not to” you said hesitantly.
Clarisse smirked at that, only seconds ago you said you couldn’t tell anyone and yet here you were continuing on with the subject.
“And mummy is?” She asked condescendingly, something you didn’t pick up on as you went to answer.
“Ummm Persephone…” you responded simply.
“What?” Clarisse asked in confusion, looking at you like you were mad. Sure, she knew you couldn’t be mortal, but a demigod?
She supposed the flowers and plants in full bloom in autumn made sense by that, it didn’t quite explain the hair but she was sure it had something to do with that.
“You’re a demigod?” She asked in confusion.
“What?” You replied, furrowing your eyebrows as you looked at her, “what’s that?”
Clarisse stared at you for a moment, you felt like she was scrutinising your entire existence as she looked you up and down.
Suddenly she grabbed your arm and pulled you towards the door, you stumbling as she continued down the stairs towards the main room of the tower and leaving you stood in the middle.
You watched her as she made her way to the window, opening it again and shouting down at her ‘friends’ she told you about earlier.
“It’s all safe” Clarisse shouted, before turning back to you, “do you have any rope?”
You looked at her in shock that she was just inviting people inside your home, speaking when she sent you a look of annoyance, “no?”
Clarisse looked around the room for a moment before settling on your hair that hung around the room, turning back to you with a new look in her eyes.
“You sure?” Clarisse asked, leaning down to pick up your hair and hold it up for you to see.
“W-what? No you can’t use my hair!” You told her, rushing forward to remove it from clarisses hands leaving you stood right in front of her.
She looked down at you with a smirk, taking the hair back, “come on, they won’t hang from it or anything, they just need something to hold for leverage to get up”
You rolled your eyes with a pout at that, looking up at her before walking towards the window, looking down at the two on the ground, who were now beyond confused at the blonde girl appearing.
You leant over to reach the walls of the tower then, Clarisse running over to hold on to you as you stumbled slightly, “be careful!”
You blushed feeling her hands on your hips, shaking yourself out of it and leaning down to touch the plants and vines attached to the stone.
Clarisse watched as the plants grew, covering the side of the wall all over and bits of vines hanging down for the two at the bottom to hold on to.
Once it was fully grown you turned back around to Clarisse, underestimating how close you both were when you did so.
You smiled up at the shocked look on her face, proud of yourself for figuring out a solution to the situation, hearing clarisses brother begin to scale up the side of the wall as you and Clarisse faced each other.
Taglist:
@slaggylemon @yourmom-25s-blog @l0veshellarcelia @asvterias @ashisabitgay
Wanna rewatch tangled now 🤩
Pretty sure this is shit but oh well
537 notes · View notes
fawnchives · 2 months
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𝟢𝟢. 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐌𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐈𝐒 𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐃?
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pairings: sturniolo triplets x fem!reader.
summary: inspired by how much is weed by dominic fike, a first time blunt rotation between your boyfriend and his triplet brothers.
content warning: established relationship with matt + marijuana usage — smoking in their mama’s house?! (please remember that this just fiction & for fun), a lil bit of swearing.
♡𓂃 notes from mona: “but the triplets said they don’t—” before you come at me with nonsense, please keep in mind that this is fictional work. anyways, something very short and sweet for now since im testing out my writing juices after not writing for sooo long. #teamsativa & enjoy reading, love you!
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𝐔gh—fuck. this shit tastes terrible,” nick gags after he takes his first hit of the rotation, face screwing up in disgust as he quickly passes the blunt to you. “smells and tastes like a skunk’s asshole.”
you giggle as you take the rolled marijuana leaf from his finger tips. you bring it to your lips, gently inhale, then exhale, watching a thick curl of foggy smoke escape from your mouth. even though it’s also your first hit, you already feel high for real.
the four of you are currently camping out in the basement of the triplets’s childhood home, which used to be their older brother’s hangout area.
he has the place decorated with a chill vibe—led lights, curtains with cool, mystic patterns, miscellaneous road signs and band posters plastered all over the walls. a medium sized flat screen remains mounted on the wall surrounded by fake vines and in the middle of the room is a couch he purchased from a yard sale a few years back along their grandma’s old coffee table a few bean bag chairs.
chris connects his phone to his bluetooth speaker and puts on one of his playlists as you begin to take another hit—you inhale too much for your poor lungs and end up a sputtering, coughing mess.
“easy baby, easy.” matt gently rubs your arm before taking the blunt from your fingers, concern decorating the edges of his voice. nick giggles as he tosses you bottle of water.
“here, drink up. i heard that cotton mouth shit is no joke.”
after a while of puffing and passing, the four of you exchange looks and burst into a fit of giggles, the perfect concoction of euphoria and serotonin surges through your veins. the high has definitely kicked in.
likes + comments & reblogs are highly appreciated.
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samandcolby-ownme · 3 months
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Summary: anon request - "hear me out ok .. ok what if reader was getting a tattoo and JAKE is the person who does the tattoos??????"
Warnings: TW needles, getting tattooed, male tattooing female reader, mentions of being in pain and smoking, mainly fluff
Word Count: 5.5K | kind of edited
╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗
"Hello?"
"Hey y/n, it's Corey from Emblem One."
You smile, "oh hey. What's up, Corey?" You sit up and listen to him, " So, Vienna isn't going to be in today, she's got a bad, and I mean bad case of the flu."
You pout slightly, "Oh. Thats too bad. I hope she feels better soon."
"Yeah, me too. I just got done rescheduling her appointments today.. she was booked and busy so it's.. been a day so far." He laughs slightly, "But I know you trust the rest of us, and I was going down over our other appointments and Jake has an earlier opening if you want it."
"Is he the one you were talking about bringing in a few weeks ago?"
"Yeah, that's him. He does pretty sick work, if I do say so myself, but you know that if I didn't think he could do your tattoos, I wouldn't recommend him." Corey chuckles slightly, "I know it's a sternum tattoo, so if you're no-"
"Put me in." You say quickly, "I need tattoo therapy Corey. I can't wait any longer." You laugh and he clicks his tongue, "You got it."
He pauses for a second, "So instead of coming in at six like you were supposed to with V, he can get you in at two thirty. That sound okay?"
"That's absolutely perfect. Thank you so much for calling me."
"Anytime. See you in a little."
"Yep, bye." You hang up, checking the time before getting up to go shower.
You were getting a chest piece done, a floral setting under your boobs with a vine that goes in between them.
You were actually kind of nervous for this one, well.. it wouldn't be as bad if you hadn't let google and all of its pain scale ratings deter your feelings about it.
You tried not to think about it by going to the shops page, looking to see if they posted an introduction to Jake.
They did, and wow is he ever pretty.
You bite your lip, reading down over the basic info that's listed below his picture.
Emblem One would like to introduce our newest artist, Jake Webber. Jake has been tattooing for a few years and he is absolutely incredible. You can swipe to see a few of the pieces that he's done so far, and if you would like to schedule an appointment with Jake, please call the shop and we'll get you set up.
You raise your eyebrows as you swipe through the attached pictures, "Wow." You shake your head, Corey was right, his work is pretty sick.
You find yourself in the comments, and to no surprise, you're reading stuff that definitely should have stayed in the keyboard.
User1: I have no tattoos, but now I want one that will take hours
User2: I have a few openings that I can definitely schedule you in to fill.
User3: I'd leave a wet spot on the table, he's so hot
"People have no chill." You roll your eyes, laughing slightly as you double tap the picture to like it before getting in the shower.
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
You push the door to the tattoo shop open, walking in as you give Corey a smile, "Hey."
He stands up, "What's up, y/n?"
You shake your head, closing the door behind you, "Nothing really, about to get a tattoo." You laugh slightly and he chuckles, "You don't say."
He slides the paper for you to sign, "Are you nervous?"
You sign your name and shrug, "I know it's going to hurt, but I'm so excited for it."
He chuckles and nods, "Yeah, I don't really think it's going to tickle." He nods to the back, "I'll go tell Jake you're here."
He walks back, leaving you alone in the small lobby that you're very familiar with. You walk over, looking at the different paintings and drawings that are on the walls.
You've seen them a bunch of times but they always amaze you.
"Y/n."
You turn, seeing Jake standing there and your eyes move up to meet his - wow, he's a lot taller in person.
You smile, "Yes, hi." You walk over to him, "You must be Jake."
He extends his hand out, "That would be me."
You lay your hand in his and it feels like fireworks are going off inside of your stomach.
"So if you're ready.." he nods towards the door, hand still holding yours, "You can follow me this way."
You nod, blinking a few times as you smile, "Yes. I am more than ready." You slip your hand from his and he gives you a little smirk before walking back the hall.
You follow him back, saying hi to the other artists that are there today.
"You're popular here aren't you?" Jake jokes and you laugh, "I've known Corey since, middle school, I think."
"So you're friends with the owner, how sick is that?" Jake sits down on his stool and you nod, "It has its perks."
You sit your bag down on the extra chair in the corner and shrug your jacket off. You turn around letting out a quiet, but loud enough to catch Jake's attention, "shit."
"Everything okay?" Jake looks up from getting everything set up and you nod, "Yeah, well. I mean no. I wanted to bring an extra shirt with me, just so I didn't get ink all over this one, and I forgot it."
"I have an extra one if you want it." Jake offers and you raise your brows, "Do you really?"
He nods, getting up from his stool, "It's in my car, but I can go out and grab it quick."
"Are you sure?" You tilt your head, "I don't want to be a hassle. I know you have other appointments later."
He shakes his head, "Nah, just one. But that isn't until six or something, so we have plenty of time." He grabs his keys and points to the door, "I'll be right back."
"Thank you!" You say as he walks out. You turn, digging your phone from your bag and bringing it up to text your best friend, I got rescheduled so I'm here at the shop now. Corey put me with the new guy they hired and oh my gosh is he a sweetheart, and oh, he is sooo pretty, too. Go to Emblem One on IG and look. It's their new artist. Jake.
Just as you get done, basically fan girling about Jake, he walks back in, "Here you are."
You take the shirt from his hand and smile, "You are a lifesaver, Jake. Thank you."
He bats the air, "Oh shucks." He laughs slightly and walks towards the door, "I'm going to let you get comfortable, I'll be back in a few."
You watch as he leaves, closing the door behind him.
You take off your shirt off, followed by your bra before slipping on his shirt. Your eyes scan over the black walls, moving over the long mirror hung horizontally against it.
You walk over to the mirror, spending the last few minutes alone trying to figure out how you were going to keep yourself covered while he tattoos.
As you're moving the shirt around, there's a knock on the door and you quickly pull it down, "Come in."
The door opens and Jake walks in, "Comfy cozy?"
You laugh slightly, moving to sit back on the table, "As much as I can get."
"Is there anything else I can do for you before we get started?" He sits down, turning to look at you with a smile.
You tilt your head, "It's more or less how I'm going to stay covered up, I don't want anyone uncomfortable. I seen other shops have hospital gowns that they have people put on backwards.."
He smirks slightly, "I was actually thinking about that out there and, I don't have a hospital gown, but what I can do, is cut the shirt up the middle and then tape it down so you're covered."
"I don't want you ruining your shirt, Jake." You shake your head slightly and he shrugs, "That's an old shirt anyway. I won't miss it."
"Are you sure?" You ask and he smiles as he grabs the scissors, "So. Are we doing this?"
You laugh, moving to stand up, "I guess we are."
He rolls over, pinching the hem of the shirt with his fingers before gliding the scissors upward. You lay your hands on your boobs to keep them covered and your breath hitches quietly as the cool air hits your skin.
"Let me grab the tape."
You nod as you watch him wheel over, grabbing the white tape before coming back over. He look up at you, "If you feel uncomfortable at anytime and need or want me to stop, please tell me."
"You're fine, Jake." You smile.
That wasn't a lie, you were, oddly enough, more comfortable with him than you were with any of your actual guy friends.
"I'm just saying. I don't want you writing a bad yelp review." He tries not to laugh but fails which causes you to laugh, "Oh yeah, I'm going to totally go home after this and write the worst review ever."
"Maybe that'll make the girls in the instagram comments stay away." He snickers as he shakes his head while taping down the shirt to your skin.
"You saw them?" You drop your hands and he look up with a nod, "Oh yeah." He rolls his eyes and sighs, "But I seen you liked it, so thanks for that."
You can feel your cheeks heating as he pushes himself back, "Oh, that. Yeah, i was just.. showing love to my favorite tattoo shop, you know."
Way to play it cool, y/n, you mentally slap yourself as you sit down on the table again.
He chuckles, "No I appreciate that. I know being a new artist to some is kind of scary, but Corey said he would hype me up and it obviously worked, since you're sitting on my table."
You laugh, "he did. Don't worry. He said your art was sick and I have to agree with him. You do some good work, Jake."
He smiles as he holds up a fresh, unopened needle, "Steril, clean." He brings it down to open it up, "Thank you. I appreciate getting that confirmed." He chuckles as he puts everything together.
You make small talk while he gets the stencil ready, asking where you're both from, what you do for work, this and that.
"alright, if you would come stand in front of me." He points with his pinky to the floor in front of him. You walk over to him and he rubs soap onto your skin before shaving the spot the stencil is going to be.
You look in the mirror, watching Jake as he works to get you ready.
"I'm actually nervous about this. I heard this spot hurt."
He smirks, "everyone is different, you know pain tolerance and all, but considering you have a few others, I think you'll be fine. If you need to take a break or two, or five.." he laughs slightly, "Just let me know."
You nod, "Sounds good."
He applies a thin layer of the stencil solution to your skin before turning around to pick up the thin layer of paper, "Alright. Nice and straight and stay as still as you can for me."
You let your hands hang by your sides as you try to control your breathing. You glance in the mirror, watching as Jake smooths out the stencil over your sternum and under your boobs.
"I think, this is going to be a sick ass tattoo." Jake leans back, letting the stencil sit for a few seconds before gently peeling it off, "take a look at that, let me know if you need it moved or anything."
He watches as you turn to look at the stencil in the mirror. You nod, "That's good. I like where it's at."
He nods, "Then we'll let that dry for a few minutes then I guess we'll get right into it." He smiles as he turns away to pour the ink into the little cups.
"I know your post said you've been tattooing for a while, but I'm nosey, so how long is a while exactly?" You sit back down, making sure to keep your body as straight as you can.
He laughs slightly, "Well, if you must know." He glances at you with a smirk, "I was an apprentice for about two years then I worked with an artist in the city for a little bit until I got a call from Corey."
"Did Corey find you on Instagram?" You reach up to run your hand through your hair and Jake laughs, "No, actually. My friend Sam got him in touch with me."
You blink, "Wait. Sam.. what's his last name?"
"Golbach."
"Shut up."
"I'm confused." Jake laughs and you shake your head, "No, no. I know Sam."
"Really? No fuckin' way." Jake's mouth drops open, "How do you know Sam?"
"My family knows his family. Ever since we were little." You shake your head, "That's crazy. Maybe it is a small world after all."
"Yeah, yeah." He smiles, "It sure is."
You smile and after a few seconds of silence, he points, "I'm going to check your stencil if that's okay."
"Oh no." You push your chest out, "Go ahead."
He walks up, gently rubbing his finger over the end part and nods, "Ready?"
You take a deep breath, "I guess so." You laugh as you swing your legs up, lying back on the table. Jake sits down, wheeling himself and the cart over.
You hear the buzzing of the tattoo gun and you take a deep breath. Jake applies a thin layer of Vaseline over the stencil, "Alright. If you need a break at all, let me know."
"Alright." You nod, taking in a deep breath before he anchors your skin down to start.
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
Halfway through the tattoo, you opted for a break.
Jake takes your hand, helping you sit up. You swing your legs over the edge of the table, "Thank you."
He nods, taking off his gloves before shrugging off his jean jacket, revealing a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off.
"I like your tattoos." You smile as your eyes move over his tatted skin. He smiles, "Thanks. I'm kind of an addict when it comes to them."
"Tattoos are hot, so it's okay." You smirk at him as you get up to look into the mirror. He walks up behind you, "Yeah, they really are." His eyes move from your half finished tattoo to your eyes and his lips form into a smirk before he turns away.
"Do you care if I go out and have a smoke real quick?"
You shake your head, "Nope. You're good." You smile at him, "Take your time."
"So sweet." He smiles and pulls the pack from his jacket pocket, "I don't know if you smoke, but I'd feel like it would be rude of me not to offer you one."
You laugh and shake your head, "I only smoke when I'm drinking, or drunk, I should say."
"Nothing wrong with a drink and smoke." He smiles and puts a cigarette between his lips, "I'll be back."
You nod, bending down to get your phone out so you can snap a picture of your tattoo progress. You laugh when you read over the text from your friend, oh my god. He is absolutely beautiful. You're letting him see your tits? Lucky day for both of you lol
You roll your eyes, taking a picture of your current state, He gave me his shirt and cut it so he could keep me covered. He's honestly very respectful, but we're halfway done. I'll send you a picture when it's all done.
You walk back over and toss your phone in your bag before going back to sit on the table. As you sit and wait for Jake, you can't help but think about how you feel like you've known Jake for years.
You clicked with him, so fast that it was actually kind of scary.
"I brought you a water." Jake says as he rounds the corner into the room. You look up, smiling as you take it, "Thank you so much."
You open it, taking a sip before lifting your legs to rest them on the table, "How was your smoke?"
He nods, "It was alright." He laughs as he grabs new gloves, "Don't worry, I washed my hands when I came in."
"No worries, I trust you." You smile, watching as he pulls the black gloves over his hands.
He had nice hands. Very. Nice hands.
"Are you ready to start again?" Jake snaps you out of your stare and you smile, "Yes. Yes I am." You lay back on the table as look over at Jake, "So is this your first sternum piece?"
He looks up at you, "Mm, not really. I did a touch up on one other, but her boyfriend stared me down the whole time."
"Oh I bet that was awkward." You stare up at the ceiling, "I hate that. I hate people in general."
Jake chuckles before he starts tattooing, "I totally get what you mean."
"Oh, I don't hate you. I hope you didn't ta-"
He cuts you off, "Not at all. Not at all." He smiles as he continues, "Don't take this the wrong way, but you have beautiful skin."
You bite down on your lip, smiling as you feel your cheeks turning red, "Thank you? I think."
He leans back, wiping your skin, "I meant that as a compliment, sorry if it didn't sound like one."
"No, no. It did. I just.. never got that compliment before."
"Really?" He shakes his head, "People are missing out to see you smile, then." He glances up at you, and you can tell that he's just as comfortable with you as you are with him.
You didn't really believe in love at first site stuff, but you did believe in that click, and that click is what you have with him.
"Alright, now this part might hurt a lot more than the bottom piece, so if you need another break, just tell me."
You give him a nod, biting down on your lip as he starts the vine that's between your boobs.
"Oh.. gosh.." you take calming breathes as he was right, it does hurt, "you were right."
You close your eyes, trying to think of something else and Jake helps with that.
"Have you lived here long?"
"Kind of." You say instantly, "I've been here a few years. I actually only live a few streets over in the Green Ridge apartment building."
"Nice, nice." Jake wipes away and gives you a little breather, "Do you have any pets?"
"I have a cat." You laugh slightly, "I would love a dog, but my building doesn't have the grass around it for them to go out, you know."
"Oh man. Of course not. What's your cat's name?"
You laugh slightly, "Um. It's mystic. He's a fluffy grey cat and I got the name from The Vampire Diaries." You wince slightly as you feel the needle piercing your skin, "I'll show you a picture when we're done."
"I would love to see it." He smiles as he moves onto the next part, "I don't have any pets. Mainly because I spend most of my time in the shop, whether it's drawings or tattooing, I just like being here."
"Did you draw that moon phase picture above the mirror?" Your eyes move to the frame and back to him, "Yeah I did." He looks up at you with a smile, "it wasn't easy, took me forever but I finally finished it."
"Do you.. think you can draw me a flower piece that connects to the top of this one?"
He nods, "I'd be honored."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
Two hours of talking and tattooing later, Jake is up by your shoulder, leaning over you to finish the top of your tattoo, "We are almost done, sweetheart."
The cute little pet name makes your stomach flip and your cheeks turn pink, "Okay." You say quietly with a smile, "I'm so excited to see it."
"I may be biased, since I'm the one who's doing it, but it's so pretty." He nods, "I like it."
"I'm sure I will too."
"If you don't like it, you can tell me. I promise I'll wait to cry until you leave." He laughs and turns to get more ink.
"I don't think you'll need to cry. From what I already saw, I'm in love with it already." You smile at him and he nods, "I'm glad."
His arm lays over your shoulder, resting under your chin. You close your eyes, feeling the vibrations move through his arm and before you know it.
You're done.
Jake leans back, "Well.." he wipes off your skin, "we're done."
"Already?" You smirk, "That didn't even take long."
He laughs as he helps you sit up, your hand in his and his other on the center of your back, "Take a look."
You glance down before sliding off the table. You walk over to the mirror and your jaw drops, "Oh my god."
"Go easy on me, I'm sensitive." He holds his hands up and laughs.
"No, Jake. This is .. this is beautiful." You turn back to look at it more, "By far my favorite tattoo."
"I'm glad you love it. I love it too." He sprays a paper towel and sits down, "I'm just going to wipe it off some more then take a picture if you don't mind?"
You turn to face him, "I don't mind." You smile as you step towards him, feeling that relief as he wipes over the completed tattoo. (A/n: if you ever had a tattoo, you know exactly what I'm talking about.)
He rests his hand on your hip as his eyes move over the tattoo, wiping it in different spots, "Beautiful."
You look down at him and he smirks, "That tattoo looks pretty good, too." He winks before turning to grab his phone.
Okay, so there's something there. You weren’t imagining it.
You take a deep breath, licking your lips as you turn to look at it in the mirror again, admiring his work.
"Alright." Jake says, "Ready when you are."
You turn back to him, standing up as straight as possible as he snaps a few pictures.
"Got them. I'll probably post it later if you're okay with that?" He looks up at you and you nod, "Whatever you want to do. I'm covered."
"I definitely wouldn't post them if you weren't." He chuckles and points, "Do you want me to take that tape off or did you want to do it at home?"
"You can take it off and I'll just wrap the shirt over and we can slap a new piece on if that'll work?" You motion to pulling the shirt over and he nods, "oh yeah, that will totally work. Do you want me to cover it?"
"Oh yes. Please." You nod and he gives you a thumbs up before turning around to grab some Saniderm. He holds up the piece, "I think that'll be good for the bottom, I'll cut a skinnier piece for the vine part."
You nod, letting him do whatever he needs to do.
He runs his hands over the clear covering and then moves to take the tape off, "If you wanted to grab this side, I'll go ahead and work at getting these pieces off."
"Okay." You hold the side against you as he peels each piece of tape off on the other side before you hold that side of the shirt against you.
You pull the shirt over, holding it there until he grabs a new piece, "Thank you again, for the shirt, for cutting your shirt, and for doing all of this."
"It's not a problem at all, y/n." He smiles as he rubs the piece of tape to stick to the fabric, "Thank you for allowing me to do this."
"Corey said you were good, I just wanted to see how good." You smile and step back. He smiles, "Well I appreciate your curiosity getting the best of you."
"Of course." You nod and go over to grab your jacket, slipping it on before grabbing your bag, "Do you want me to meet you out front then?"
He nods, "Yeah that'll be good."
"Okay." You walk out to the front and Corey looks up, "Well, I see you're alive. How was it?"
"Painful. But.. worth it." You laugh and rest your bag on the counter, "You have a good artist back there."
He tilts his head, "Good as in he does good work, or good as in you like him?" He smirks and you shrug, "Is it okay to say both?"
He chuckles and rolls his eyes, "I guess." His eyes move behind you as Jake walks out. He moves behind you and around to stand next to Corey.
You hand him the money the amount for the tattoo and he squints his eyes, "How much did you and Vienna agree on?"
"Three fifty." You say and Jake laughs, "I'll take two."
You sigh, "then I'm leaving you a big tip."
He chuckles and Corey looks between the two of you, "I have to go.. check on something.. I think." He laughs as he walks away, leaving you and Jake at the desk.
"I'm not leaving until you take it." You rest it down on the counter and Jake sighs, "You're persistent."
"I like to show my appreciation." You smirk and he picks up the cash, "Fine." He smirks and sets it down on the desk, "Are we looking at scheduling another?"
"Is that even a question?" You laugh and Jake sighs, "Yeah, a dumb question." He laughs and looks at his schedule, "When did you want to come back in? For the shoulder connecting piece, right?"
You nod, "Um, we can do like two, three weeks? That should give you enough time to draw it up for me."
"Okay." He bends down, clicking on the computer, "Does the twenty first sound good?"
"That's perfect." You smile and watch as he writes down the date on an appointment card. He hands it to you and right when he's about to say something else, the door opens and you both look over.
A guy walks in, smiling at both of you.
"Hey Matt, I'll be right with you." Jake nods to him and looks back at you. You sigh, "Thanks again, Jake. I really appreciate it."
"Anytime."
And with that, you leave the shop, mentally beating yourself up that you didn't ask him out.
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
A few days later
The last few days have been painful and irritating as you can't really sleep comfortably yet.
So it's two am, you're wide awake, and your phone goes off.
Who could that be, you think as you sit up, leaning over to grab it.
Hey, y/n. It's Jake. I'm so sorry that it's so late but I cannot stop thinking about you.
Your mouth drops slightly as you feel an excited rush roll over your body. You smile, biting your lip as your thumbs quickly tap the screen, Hi Jake. I'm glad to see that we both feel the same way.
You clutch your phone, anxiously awaiting his response.
Okay, wow. This is embarrassing. I honestly didn't expect you to be awake, but then again I'm glad you are. I wanted to ask you out at the shop the other day but I was so fucking nervous.
You giggle slightly, happy that you finally got the message you were waiting for, or waiting for the courage to send.
You tap the screen biting down on your lip as you send the message, You're literally taking the words right out of my mouth. I was so nervous, too.
You see the bubbles pop up, disappear, and then pop up again before he finally sends his message, This might be a long shot, but what are you doing right now?
You look at your screen confused but you answer, I can't sleep so I'm just lying in bed wide awake.
He answers, almost instantly, Do you want to take a drive?
You answer instantly, Yes, please.
You send him your address and he responds, I'll be there in twenty, I'll text you when I'm there.
You kick the blankets off, hurrying over to grab a pair of sweats and a sweatshirt from your closet. You brush your hair, not worrying about anything else before you walk out to your living room to wait.
You were kind of nervous, but at the same time, you were so excited to see him.
Twenty minutes later, your phone lights up and it's a text from Jake, I'm parked out front in the Tesla.
You grab your bag, making sure you have your keys before walking out of the door. You walk down, smiling at his car as you walk towards it.
He smiles at you through the windshield, leaning across the consol to open the door for you.
"Thank you." You say as you get in and shut the door. You turn towards him as you buckle, giving him a quiet, "Hey."
"Hey." He smiles and looks away, "god why am I so nervous?" He laughs and looks back at you. You shrug, "I asked myself that, too. A few times on the way out here."
He smile and shakes his head, "I figured we could stop, get some snacks before we drive around?"
You nod, "That's good with me."
"Okay." He nods and starts driving, "So. I have to ask. Are the lines on your tattoo straight?"
"I think so." You look at him, "Why do you ask?"
"Because.." he laughs, "I had to force myself to not shake."
You laugh slightly, "Aw, Why were you shaking?" He looks over at you, "I started shaking the minute you turned around to look at me in the lobby."
"Well you did a good job at covering it up because I couldn't even tell you were." You smirk and he sighs, "Well that's a relief." He looks over at you, "Tattoo healing okay?"
You nod, "Oh yeah. I took the stuff off two days ago I think?" You look over at him, "Do you want to see it?"
"If you're okay with that." He nods, "I'd love to."
He pulls into the parking lot and you unbuckle, bunching up your sweatshirt to reveal the underboob part of the tattoo, "I love it."
He raises his eyebrows, "That looks so good."
You nod, "It's healing perfectly."
He smiles as he points to the building, "Shall we go get some car ride snacks?"
You nod, "Let's do it."
You get out, walking in with him. You stay close to him, mainly because you're just happy to be with him. You grab some snacks and a drink, making your way up and Jake takes you stuff from your arms to pay.
"You don't have to do that." You say and he looks back at you, "You got out of bed at two in the morning for me, it's the least I could do."
You roll your eyes with a smile and wait for him to grab the bag before you walk out. You get back in the car and Jake looks over at you, staring for a few seconds.
"What?" You ask shyly, "Is there something on my face?" You brush your face and Jake laughs, "No." he sighs, "You are just.. amazing."
He laughs nervously and you smile as you look down, "So are you."
He turns towards you , word vomit spilling out, "I definitely would have asked you out the day you were at the shop, but I didn't want to do it with Matt standing and.. and then I thought that I could wait until your next appointment with me, but I couldn't so I got your number from your client profile and I just.. had to see you sooner."
"I'm glad you did. I was beating myself up over not saying anything." You sigh, "Plus. You're worth getting out of bed at two in the morning for."
He smiles and shakes his head, "That.. is sweet. Thank you."
You laugh, "I'm just glad we feel the same."
"You had me when you first looked at me, but you really got me at I hate everyone." He laughs, "I'm just glad that it wasn't all in my head."
You shake your head, "Nope. It's not."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
As usual, let me know how you liked this. Thank you for reading! Love you all!
Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated 🖤
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ggsbooks123 · 5 months
Text
Memories — part two of memory garden
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warning: gets pretty angsty here and character deaths 😓 mentions of suicide (jude bby is guilt ridden)
summary: you don’t know how much longer you can take it. The thoughts eating away at you telling you to kill someone in your heart you knew was pure good… but what happens when the voices turn on you?
a lil disclaimer yall i mixed cressidas name with cresta without thinking and realised half way through… i couldn’t be bothered to go back and fix it so i continued using it 😭 cresta is cressida!
— —
The next morning I woke up to Boggs shaking me and asked me to step outside, the sun was only just making its ascent.
I notice my restraint is off, Boggs must have taken them off before waking me up, I took a deep breath. I wasn’t sure why he had done it, I was in no right mind.
My eyes lifted at the doorway, Peeta was right there… No. I shook my head, following Boggs out the door.
He stood gazing over the destruction of the city, I tightened my fist when the echo of a voice tried to break through. Not now. This was the outcome of war and nothing I did to them now would prevent this. But the voices never agreed.
“Wanted to check how you were feeling after your first night” He explained once I joined him at his side, it was nice that he cared.
I shrug, glancing back over my shoulder “I don’t think it’s a good idea that i’m here, I was getting help back at the district… I don’t know why i’m here” I definitely didnt think it was a good idea, Coin had sent me here knowing i was far from recovery.
“Coin always has a reason” Boggs muttered like he’d been reading my thoughts “I think she has no use for Katniss and Peeta anymore-“ He eyes filled in the blanks his words didn’t…
“She sent me to kill them” I whisper back realisation smacking into, I was a weapon, again. But it wasn’t the capital this time, it was the rebellion.
When will i be free?
The voice sounds almost sad and I realise that it’s not a voice, it’s my own thoughts. My own depressing and given up thoughts.
“She can try and turn you into some psycho killer but the people in that room care about you, even if you don’t see it. So do I, the three of you kids have seen more hell than anyone deserves” Boggs explains, finally turning from the city to face me. “You’re just kids”
I frown, glancing down at my hands. Kids. We weren’t even eighteen years old, it was something that defined so much about someone and id forgotten.
“Thank you” I whisper, movement from inside alerts me and I reach for my gun, what if Peeta took this distraction as an opportunity but then Katniss stepped out, my heart didn’t slow but my hands dropped.
“What’re you doing out here so early?” Katniss asked stepping closer but keeping a respectful distance, my hand clenched.
She’s with Peeta, they will kill us all. The desire to kill Katniss was easier to push down but when it came to Peeta is was a thirst for blood like no other.
I shake my head, not hearing what Boggs responded with.
“How are things?” Boggs doesn’t respond to this question so I glance up and see they both have their attentions on me.
How are things? I wanted to scoff, but I knew that I was an accident waiting to happen, they didn’t know what would set me off. Apparently just saying how are things is one example. I shake my head and I notice the flash of concern.
“I can only get better right?” I spit, I don’t mean for it come out like that but she flinches and Boggs places his hand on her shoulder.
I feel it, my hand moving on its own before my right slapped down on it, instantly both their eyes slammed to me and without further explanation i declare, “We need to put my restraint back on”
And with that Katniss went inside and woke the others and Boggs cuffed me again.
Finnick was the first to step out, alongside a girl with a vines blooming flowers across the left half of her shaved head “Jude, I wanted you to meet Cresta, she’d one of the directors for this whole thing”
I smiled lightly at her, hoping to be polite since she no doubt had to stay up for an hour and watch me last night. “Nice to meet you, are you from the Capitol?”
She nods, “Do I give off that capitol ignorance?” She asked as a joke but in her eyes I could tell she was pleading I said no which made me smile slightly wider. I liked her.
“No, no. I was just asking didn’t mean to hit right on the money” I shrugged, “Maybe after this I could read palms?” I raise an eyebrow at Finnick who seems to just be smiling at me. “What?”
“Nothing, just glad you’re finally started talking about an after this” And with that Cresta and him left me, sending my mind reeling.
After…
— —
The next few days were especially hard, we had to travel a few streets at a time due to these devices called pods, the game makers had created them, no death should be boring apparently.
One of the pods had contained thousands upon thousands of snakes, luckily they seemed to stop at a certain point. Just like in the games except we could activate them from a distance.
Some of the other pods though, made it harder to remember where I was and who my friends are. Boggs had set off the last pod, four explosions had destroyed the road before them and each explosive made unbidden thoughts enter my head.
Now we were slowly making our way through the Capital streets, it seemed bizarre to think that it was once luxury.
“How’re you feeling?” His voice breaks through everything, and my neck snaps to him as I take a step back, bumping into Finnick who seems to have noticed why and is already guiding me to walk again.
Peeta frowns, turning away for a moment before looking back at me “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you” Maybe he was trying to be nice, because we both knew it hadn’t been the reason.
“It’s- It’s okay. Really. Just a lot going on, and I think I’m feeling better. The questions that i’m asking help” I respond, trying to stay calm and push the voices away, though they’re not really there at the moment.
He seems to perk at my words before shooting over his shoulder “Ask one now, can’t hurt” I blow a breath, rattling through my brain for anything and then it clicked.
We’re back in the 75th Hunger Games, it’s a couple days in and we look utterly spent, I don’t even look like i’m making my next five steps.
I try to remember when this was, must’ve been right before the arena been destroyed, Peeta and I had run into the Careers and I’d paid with three strikes to my chest, Peeta not much better off.
The thought of the wounds made me reach for my chest, but they were gone. Magically healed by the Capital just to be tortured mentally.
I watch myself trip slightly but Peetas there in an instant, arm looping around my waist, holding me for dear life.
It looked so natural. Right. Together, his eyes never leaving me, concern dripping with every blink.
I hear him whisper like he’s next to me “We’re almost at the beach alright, just a little further” I can feel the desperation in his words, he needed me to make it.
I remember the exhaustion now, the utter fatigue I felt. The thought to close my eyes was over bearing but I couldn’t let Peeta down… win, I couldn’t let him win!
I snap out of the memory, luckily Finnick has my arms in his hands because i’ve stopped again and Peeta is looking at me with concern over his shoulder every few seconds. “Jude?” Finnick whispers and I take deep breath.
“In the last Hunger Games,” I began, trying to sort out the memory, he was saving me or was he the reason I ended up at the Capitol? “You saved me after the Careers attacked us, real or not real”
He frowned at the question, was it concern or hurt in his eyes, I didn’t know because when he blinked it was gone but then he stopped turning to face me. This time Finnick doesn’t push me forwards. He didn’t save you, and now he knows that he can’t get away with his lies anymore. Kill him!
Before I could act on the voices that abruptly awokened he speaks up, “I got you to that beach, then the arena went out and the Capital got you. So yeah, I saved you from the Careers but I couldn’t save you from the Capital and it’ll kill me everyday that you had to go through that and this and I couldn’t do anything”
His voice grew more anguished and devastated with each word and I found tears falling down my own face as he took deep breaths in front of me. The old me would’ve known how much this was eating at him, would’ve helped him but how could I?
I didn’t know me anymore. Or what I could do before I snapped.
I didn’t know what to say so I said “Haymitch told me that I- I told them if it came down to it, to save you” His eyes sharpened on me somehow, “I don’t blame you for what happened in the Capital, I never will. I’m sorry”
The air hung still as Boggs turned to them finally, breaking the moment “Keep up! We haven’t got all day” Peeta sighed, glancing at Boggs before solely landing on me again.
“Real. I saved you from the Careers” I smiled lightly, kill him, I shoved it down not paying any attention to it.
“Thank you” Finally, we began to follow the others down and around another corner. Soon we were arriving at our next pod, this one had a large arch with completely and utterly destroyed walls surrounding it left to right.
More destruction passed as they continued, how long before it’s too much, until the city isn’t even salvageable. Boggs told us to hide behind the walls while he set it off the next pod and then checked for anymore. We did as told, I took position between Finnick and Katniss and two other guys i didn’t know, Peeta and Cresta, Jackson and Pollux on the other side.
I felt anticipation, the voice had free roam when the pods went off. Too much going on at once, I couldn’t control it.
The pod detonation sent my mind spiraling, as I assumed, this one, four guns emerged from the wall and rained bullets into the archway destroying bits of the wall they were behind.
If you killed them their symbol would be gone, who would push that hope and if not for Katniss and Peeta, it would die with them. The voice stronger than it’d been in days.
No! I crouched further agaisnt the wall we’d taken cover behind, I’d been given my blank gun back for the promo but this was all too much, I felt the butt of the gun against my temple as I curled into my self.
I bring my head up and smack it against the gun, get out of my head. Get out. Get out! “My favourite colour is purple, I can’t wear red bows. Peeta saved me. My favourite-“ I repeat the words, whispered and keep bringing the butt of my gun to my temple.
A hand on my shouldern brings me back, at first my eyes catch the utterly devastated ones across from me. Peeta. He looks like he’d burn the world… For me. I break the eye contact quickly and the look in Finnicks eyes said it all. He didn’t have to go through what I had to understand, I didn’t know if I’d be able to do this without him, or Peeta… No matter how much I wanted to kill him sometimes.
Suddenly an explosion going off catches us off guard, did they set off another pod? “Boggs!” Katniss screams break the air, Finnicks hands move under my shoulders and lifts me to my feet, hauling me around the corner.
We both freeze at the sight, easily three of our squad members had been hit by the bomb. But it’s Boggs who lays in Katniss’s arms that makes my stomach drop and I’m almost sure I would have crumbled if not for Finnick. Bogg’s legs were gone, nothing but two stumps and onrushing blood.
Oh god, oh god. I slam my eyes shut and a ringing breaks out in my head. This is my fault, it’s all my fault, I never should have trusted them, Boggs should have never trusted them. The thoughts come harsher than they have in weeks and I can’t break away from them.
Kill them before they kill us all. This one isn’t my voice and I snap my eyes open sure I’d see his old and drawn face in front of me, but he’s not there. Relief fills me, but the twitch in my hand isn’t as my eyes dart to Peeta.
He must’ve been hit by the backlash of the bomb, Jackson was helping him to his feet as Cresta was helping one of the twins, who’d I forgotten were even there amongst all the chaos. His blue eyes darted around until they met mine and then they drifted to my hands.
I was holding my gun… I didn’t remember grabbing it, and it was full of blanks but it could still be a weapon. Kill him, I shake my head taking a step back at the same time I hear a click from afar, my head shoot’s up and I look to see l the other twin had rushed to help the other and had set off another pod.
I flinched ready for another bomb but instead the walls to the archway we just entered and the three others all begin to close, Katniss now standing from Boggs and holding the device he had seems to catch sight before anyone of us and the look of horror on her face is enough “Run!”
An arm grabs me and yanks me forward but my hands tighten on my gun, it was his fault. I can’t shake away these thoughts anymore, not after Boggs.
“Jude, keep it together!” Finnick spoke from beside me but nothing could bring me back, not after everything, everything that he’d done.
I felt my mind unscrewing, going barbaric at the thought of Peeta being so close and safe, he would make it out of this courtyard. And I tried to fight every single part of me that wanted to change that.
I couldn’t… Not after Boggs. You’re just kids, Peeta was a kid that had been the reason of hundreds and thousands of people… He had to die.
The air thrums around us as we rush up the stairs and I take this moment to look over my shoulder, a wave of black liquid lurches towards us and with utmost certainty I don’t want to find out what happens if it reaches me but then my mind flicks.
No consequences, kill him and die knowing you saved innocents. I wanted to shake these thoughts away, Peeta rushing up behind me tells me that he’d probably only run when he realised I was safe but a larger part of me knew he had some hidden agenda to kill me and cause more harm than good.
I had time.
It was the last confirmation I needed, shoving Finnick off me and throwing myself at Peeta, I let one of hands release the gun as I grab for his shoulder but his foot catches something and I only manage to grab his shirt as we go rolling down a few of the steps as he tries to fight off my grip, I hoped I had timed it right.
“Jude! Don’t” He cried out, finally managing to grab my wrist so I raise the gun in the other, “You have to die” I whisper, unsure why I needed to say it before I bring down the gun and finally, finally-
I’m shoved, NO. Snow’s voice screams in my head and I let out a cry, the yell breaks my skull open and I feel every ounce of rage pouring from the word.
His anger becomes my own and fuels me as I jump up from the ground and grapple the man from our squad who had ruined ruined ruined everything.
I knew it was wrong, some part of me as my ears rang and my mind exploded, but I couldn’t stop stop stop. The liquid rushed behind the man in my arms now, we’d spun, had I done that? Before my foot lifted and connected with his middle and I sent him into the abyss of oil.
Then it was all gone, the ringing, the voices and my mind was clear. I just killed a man. Someone must have grabbed me because i’m moving but I don’t feel it and I don’t care I’d killed someone, killed killed killed.
I feel the tears now as a door slams shut behind me and I hauled up my stairs, these are wooden not stone. The voices come back but they are no longer on my side. And it’s my own voice.
You killed an innocent. You need to die, you’re a danger. And I agree, I scream and scream that I want nothing more than to be dead and I must’ve actually been screaming because soon all I see is the same abyss I had forsaken another to.
— —
An explosion wakes me up and proceeds to remind me of everything that had happened before I succumbed to the darkness, I took in my surrounding the only light coming from the curtained window that Katniss and Gale were peering out of.
Whatever had just happened outside had affected Katniss more than Gale, and as I shift my position to get a better look but it’s useless, Gale lets the blinds close.
I let my eyes dance around the room, there’s more people in our group than I had realised, two men sat together checking the other for injuries, another man I seen but still didn’t know the name of stood with Cresta while Finnick and Peeta sat watching the window that Katniss and Gale were at. Jackson was no where in sight, I didn’t want to see her anyways, the guilt would twist even further. The twins… gone.
I swallow the sickness I feel, I had been so crazed I hadn’t taken the time to even get to know them.
All of the squad was far from me, I realised I was placed on stairs and the rail along it is what my hands are cuffed to.
Now you can’t hurt anyone. That hadn’t changed, no longer would I fight the urge to kill Peeta, somehow my wish of not killing him had been granted. Now I had to try not to kill myself, though that statement was half hearted.
Suddenly the familiar ring of the Capitals announcement played and my veins grew cold until one of the squad members spoke up “All the tvs in Panem are connected to the announcements, if the powers on then the shows running”
I rolled my eyes, the power that they could flush into abandoned apartments was incredible when some districts could barely keep the lights on for an hour or half.
The anthem continued, causing me to close my eyes but that only let the voices free reign in the darkness.
You could’ve been helping them stop this instead you let the Capital control you. I grit my teeth together not being able to take in what was happening on screen from the inner battle I was having with my own thoughts. You nearly killed Peeta and you were proud of it.
I nearly threw up.
My skin was on fire, pure and unadultered disgust and shame with myself, how could I have not realised that killing Peeta was the worst possible thing I could do, I would be nothing. Nothing, there was no way to put into words what would happen if he died.
And by my own hand, I closed my eyes. No. Never again would I let them win, hurt him. Never. I’d kill myself before I ever did something like that again… If I was even given the chance of redemption after what I did.
I open my eyes as I hear my name mentioned and see that the Capital is replaying everything that’s been haunting me since i woke up.
I watch the black oil like substance hurtle it’s way towards us, and I see it clearly now, Peetas eyes are on me waiting until I’m safe and clear before he runs after me and in that split second decision i’ve made one aswell.
Watching it on the screen was horrifying, my arm reaching for his throat but finding his shirt instead, us rolling together and still the look of murder on my face, so twisted it doesn’t even look like me before Mitch yanked me off and I thanked him by kicking him into the pod trap.
His scream echoed through the screen and I flinched, I’d been so full of rage and out of it I hadn’t heard it or seen as a metal cage lined with spikes shot from the oil, encasing the now dead Mitch.
I close my eyes unable to watch the rest. Monster, monster, monster. My voice spits over and over again, these I can’t shut out. It’s simply my thoughts the more I push it triples.
“Well, what’s next?” Jackson asked out of sight, I glanced around the room yet none of them seemed to look at me. I understood why they wouldn’t, some of them knew Mitch.
I killed their friend. Yet no one responded.
Was it not obvious? “I- I killed him” I whispered, all of their heads snapped like my voice was the last they expected “You should either leave me here or put a bullet in my head so no one else dies”
In the corner of my eye I see a hint of blonde flinch at my words, but I’d nearly killed him if it wasn’t for Mitch… Now he was dead, I didn’t get to live. “It’s the only reasonable solution, you can’t tell me i’m wrong”
“You’re wrong” Peeta cut in before anyone else could agree or disagree, I couldn’t tell by their faces and yet none of them cut into Peeta “You are restrained and we have a watch on you, Mitch knew what he was signing up for, we all did”
I looked away from him. This wasn’t right, my thoughts were against me now but what happened when they turned on him again? Because they would.
“You saved me once, you’ll be saving me this time aswell if you just-“
“No”
My eyes met his and I knew I’d never seen the fire in his gaze that he’d held this moment, Peeta was not budging on this. I frowned, I was a liability why couldn’t he see that?
My mind flashed to solutions, none came to mind. “There has to be a way where if I know i’m going to snap that I can stop myself” My words break at the end as I gaze around the room, there’s only silence “Please… please”
Gale steps forward and I see Peeta take a step but Katniss stops him, and I’m grateful as the brunette boy crouches down and pulls something from a hidden pocket.
A small pill, it was hard to think it’d do what i asked, delicately Gale pushed the pill into my own hidden pocket and patted it “It’s Nightlock, no pain and instant. Only if you have to”
I nodded, hesitantly but promising “Only if I have to”
And with that they set out, planning a course of action. The pods were too often now, they would have to stop constantly.
It was time to go underground
- … sooo part three?!?
DONT SCREAM AT ME IK IM AN ASSHOLE IM SO SO SO SORRY FOR MAKING YALL WAIT MY GOODREADS GOAL WAS SLACKING HAD TO CATCH UP HOPE YALL LIKE THIS XXXX
taglist girlies💓: @yazminetrahan @solarbxby @abbersreads @antonietta18
534 notes · View notes
rednotebooksworld · 2 months
Text
Character Info: Pike ~ Deer Hybrid
A/n: I like hybrids but I rarely see deer hybrids so I’m making one of my own
*NSFW under ‘read more’ tab*
<======>
Summary:
In the deep forest, a forest guardian with tough and tall antlers resides. Pike, a deer hybrid is a prince of his part of the forest and that came with huge responsibilities. You, lived in a town outside of the deep woods in lived in and it was an unexpected meeting when you wandered in his forest out of pure curiosity
SFW
—pike is more of a prince in his part of the forest but still a guardian nonetheless {bros got a bambi like backstory lol}
—pike is naturally curious about new things, human society fascinates him to some degree, so meet you, was like a blessing in disguise
—he is a bit of a short boi, but makes up for it with his antlers and ability to keep his forest safe from harm
—pike is very kind soul, he gets that from his father; the guardian before him. He likes being protective and with a human in the forest such as yourself, he’ll do everything in his powers to keep you safe
—he tries to avoid violence though willing to defend himself and others against an instigator
—he knows a lot about plants and such; teaches about plants what’s good and bad
^you accidentally tried to eat a poisonous mushroom and he just smacked it out of your hand and scolds you (definitely the mom type)
—he has introduced you to his herd; mostly the does and the fawns of the herd
^honestly he doesn’t trust the other males around you, he’s touch bit possessive
NSFW
—pike never had a mate in his lifetime even as a guardian like his father before him, it’s not like he wasn’t interested just never had the time
—though meeting you changed that, mostly his sex drive
—his sex drive went from 0 to 10 real quick, he’s kinda embarrassed by it but he’s so in love with you and he can tell it doesn’t bother you since you seem to enjoy it 😏
—that being said, pike is kinda vanilla, but he’s tied you up with vines before so bondage is always on the table for him
—pike’s a soft lover, he gives you praises and compliments
^“you’re such a pretty being, my precious princess~”
—he likes when you grab his antlers or even touch them while you have sex, that’s kinda why he enjoys eating you out, so you grab onto his antlers
—his size, well his cock is not that girthy and it’s pretty average length
—pike is very dominant especially around spring time or mating season; his herd is gave their prince usually looks when the sweet little human that’s been around was with him but they also can’t help but be happy
—he has a lot of stamina, since he’s still somewhat human but his deer half adds to his stamina; 2-3 rounds at most
256 notes · View notes
1800-fight-me · 6 months
Text
Dark Devotion
Vampire!Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader
Rating: E (Explicit) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Warnings: Once again, gothic horror romance vibes. The monster gets the girl. Fear, horror, and explicit PiV sex. Slightly non-con as Aemond compels reader, but reader definitely consents (you'll understand when you read it).
Word count: About 5.2k
Synopsis: Running from your old life somehow leads you directly into the arms of a monster, one that shows you pleasures you never could've dreamed of.
Author’s note: I know I have been completely MIA and inconsistent but tbh my life has been incredibly stresseful and I lost all motivation to write for a while. This is the first thing I've written in months that I am genuinely proud of. I even made a whole ass moodboard for it! I truly hope y'all enjoy. Happy Halloween! P.S. Comments will make my entire day and earn you a kiss on the forehead!
I am no longer using a taglist! Instead if you would like to be notified when I post new fics follow my side blog @jo-writes-fanfic and turn your post notifications on!
Aemond Masterlist
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There was a phrase you heard quite a few times in your village as a little girl, ‘the night is dark and full of terrors’. Your mum would always roll her eyes and mumble something about ‘religious fanatics’. You were always inclined to agree with her, that is until this night. 
This night truly was dark and full of terrors. 
Thunder cracked loud enough that your ears rang as rain poured something awful. The harsh droplets pelted at your skin and the sky split in half as a lightning bolt landed merely a stone’s throw before you. 
Your horse neighed in panic loud enough that you could hear him over the bellowing wind as he reared back on his hind legs, causing you to slip and fall off and land directly on your backside in the mud. 
You gasped in shock and did not even have time to call out before your horse bolted away, leaving you drenched and muddy on the forest floor. 
Instead of crying you merely turned your head up towards the sky, embraced the pain of the harsh rain against your cheeks, and screamed at the heavens in frustration. 
You managed to pull yourself up before the mud sucked you in below the surface of the world, adjusted the hood of your cloak once again over your head, and trudged forward. 
Your boots sloshed through the dampened forest floor and you thought that perhaps the naysayers in your village were right. Maybe the gods were punishing you for your promiscuity. 
When you laid with the soldier passing through your village and allowed him to take your maidenhood, you were convinced there would be no consequences. 
You were no one, nothing, and not having your maidenhood intact changed nothing other than the subject the gossipers in town clucked about. 
It seemed it also changed the gods’ vengeance towards you. 
This night was dark and full of terrors, that much you could sense as fear shot down your spine. 
You increased your pace, fearing the creatures that could be lurking in the woods, desperate for some sort of shelter. The feeling of eyes watching you from time to time during your journey became steady and unceasing. You felt uneasy, the hair on the back of your neck stood straight up, and you knew it had nothing to do with the cold in the air. 
Eventually you had no other choice but to ignore the feeling, having looked behind and around you dozens of times in search of your stalker to no avail.
You trudged along for what felt like hours, not once finding anything that could serve as a temporary shelter. That was, until you somehow stumbled upon a near debilitated castle. 
As it came into view, you shuddered at the feeling the crumbling building invoked in you, but any shelter was better than none at this point. 
Stone walls with vines nearly overtaking them towered over you as you rushed forward towards the large wooden doors. You looked up and thought you saw a pair of gemstone blue eyes glowing in the dark from a window at the top of the tower, but you blinked and they were gone. 
You shook your head, sure your tired eyes were playing tricks on you, and reached for the handle of the door. 
You took a shuddering breath and pulled the heavy door open. Shock filled your very being as you were overcome with warmth and light. 
While the outside of the building was shabby, the inside was magnificent. It was well kept and well lit. A home fit for a king, with a grand staircase was directly in front of you and an elderly man in a servant’s outfit was walking down it.
“Young lady! Who are you and how dare you come into this home uninvited?” the man chided as he descended the last of the steps and stood before you. 
“I-I’m so sorry, sir. I didn’t know anyone lived here, I was merely searching for shelter from the awful storm,” you said, eyes wide- portraying how stunned you felt. 
The man’s stern facade crumbled and he smiled warmly at you, you let go of your held breath and managed a small smile back at him. 
“Ah, yes, I tend to forget the master’s illusion on the outside of the building. He does it to keep the unwanted away,” he said. 
“Illusion? Like magic?” you asked. 
“Well, yes, of course. Come in, let’s get you out of the cold. You must be miserable,” the man said as he ushered you inside and closed the door behind you. 
“Alfred,” you heard the voice of a man call out from another room. His voice caused a shiver to go down your spine. 
“Yes, sire,” Alfred, the man before you replied, and the man with the shiver-inducing voice came into view as he rounded the corner and came into the entryway where you stood. 
Your breath caught once again as you saw the most striking and beautiful man you’d ever seen in your life. 
He was tall, nearly impossibly so, with long silver hair that fell nearly to his waist. He moved with the grace and control of a lethal killer. His facial features were sharp, as if he was cut from marble. His skin of pale white only emphasized his most distinct feature, an eye of sapphire that covered part of a scar that cut across his forehead and cheek. His remaining true eye was also a distinct blue color, nearly matching the sapphire one perfectly.  
Ethereal was the word that arose in your mind as he strode towards you, amusement twinkling in his eye as he took you in. 
“And who might you be, lovely?” he asked. 
After entirely too long of a pause, in which his amusement appeared to only grow as his beautiful lips curved into a smirk, you managed to stutter out your name. 
He repeated it back to you, leaning closer towards you, and your heartbeat sped into a gallop. He titled his head, almost as if he could hear it. You dismissed the thought, deeming it absurd. 
“My name is Aemond. Welcome to my home. Tell me, how exactly did you manage to find your way here?” he asked curiously. 
You leaned in closer with him, not realizing that your face was merely inches from his at this point, utterly drawn in and intoxicated by his presence. 
You were filled with a desire to please him and as a result you began rambling. “I was attempting to move away from my village. Take off and find a new life, but then there was a series of unfortunate events including running for my life, becoming irretrievably lost, and then becoming something I’m certain looks similar to a drowned rat after my horse was startled by the storm and I stumbled around for hours attempting to find shelter.” 
“Oh you poor sweet thing. Let us take care of you,” he purred and rather than set you at ease, something in the words made you feel as if your misadventures were far from over. And yet, you were entranced by his gaze and could not so much as force yourself to look away or take a step back. 
His smile grew wider as you nodded meekly. 
Finally, Aemond released you from his gaze as he turned to Alfred and asked him to fetch the maid Portia to assist you in cleaning yourself up. 
Before you knew it, you were being ushered up the stairs and into a room you could only assume was a guest room by an elderly woman with a sweet round face. 
She helped you to remove your muddy sodden clothes and you groaned in relief as you slid into a warm bath. You smiled warmly at her as you scrubbed your body and she cleaned your hair, all the while chattering to you about her love for her husband Alfred and their happiness working for Master Aemond. 
“Can you tell me about him?” you asked curiously as she helped you to dress. 
The dress she helped you into was of crushed velvet, sapphire blue like the gemstone in Aemond’s eye that had so caught your attention. The dress had a corset and plunging neckline that emphasized your curves. 
Portia hummed as she led you to sit down and began working on your hair. 
“He is a bit odd, yes. Intimidating and perhaps even scary to some, but he has a good heart. And is loyal and protective to those he cares for. He has treated my husband and I very kindly,” she said with a caring smile. 
Her words put your heart more at ease, still slightly worried about the new surprising circumstances you had found yourself in. 
“Does he typically extend that same kindness to visitors?” you asked, nervousness coloring your tone a bit. 
“It depends on the intentions of the visitor. A sweet thing like you? You’ll be well taken care of,” she said. 
“Does he often have ill-intentioned visitors?” you asked curiously. 
“It does happen from time to time, those in the nearest village hold hate for him in their hearts. Old prejudices I suppose, but no matter!” she said, changing the subject and her tone as she turned you around to view yourself in the floor length mirror. 
“Take a look at yourself, my dear. You look stunning, see? All the horror of the day washed completely away,” she said soothingly as she ran her hands up and down your upper arms. 
Your breath caught in your throat as you saw yourself. She was right, you’d never seen yourself look so beautiful before. You actually looked fit to reside in such a lovely home, unlike before, unlike any other time in your life. You’d never worn such a beautiful and expensive dress. You ran your hands across the soft fabric, up your torso and thought that it was the perfect inviting dress for someone else to touch you in. 
Images flashed in your head of the soldier you allowed to touch you, never while you wore something so pretty, but pleasurable nonetheless. Romps in the hay, literally as the two of you would often meet in your father’s barn and he taught you the art of a pleasure you’d never known before. 
You were not disillusioned about it, you knew there was no love between the two of you. You knew he would one day have to move on without you, but when he left town just as others found out about your affair, you were frustrated at being left alone with the consequences of a choice the both of you made. 
The townspeople, the people you grew up with, turned on you and called you a whore. Even your own father fell victim to their hateful whispers about you and kicked you out of his home. Only your mother helped you, sneaking you out in the dead of night and gifting you her horse to aid you on your journey into another life. 
You shook your head slightly in an attempt to clear those thoughts, the memories of both pleasure and pain, and smiled at your reflection. 
“Thank you, Portia, your efforts are greatly appreciated,” you said as you turned and embraced her in a warm hug. 
She squeezed you before releasing you and leading you out of the guest room and back down the grand staircase. 
You followed her into an elegant dining room, a fireplace lit - the fire crackling and warming the spacious room. The table was large enough to seat ten people, but only two place settings were set next to one another, somehow creating an intimate dinner even in such a large room. 
Aemond sat at the end of the table, and stood as he saw you. 
“Good evening, you look magnificent,” he said, voice as velvety as your dress. 
You did your best to hide how his words flustered you as you smiled softly and curtseyed. 
“Thank you, sire. But, this is too much. I did not mean to interrupt your your evening so and I-I’ll never be able to repay you-” 
He reached a hand out and you placed your hand in his. At the brush of your skin against his, your words fell off. 
His hands were cold, and yet- the mere brush of his fingers against yours filled your body with heat. 
“There is no repayment necessary, the pleasure of your company will be more than enough if you would please dine with me,” he said. 
“Of course,” you breathed out as you allowed him to guide you to your seat. 
Your nose was filled with the aroma of a hearty stew in a bowl before you and your stomach growled in anticipation. 
You gave Aemond a sheepish look even as he chuckled. 
“Eat, of course. You must be near ravenous. I’m familiar with the feeling,” he said, and his voice dipped lower. His eyes appeared to flash at his words, causing your heartbeat to jump, but you were far too hungry to think about it and played it off as a trick of the light, a reflection of the fire in his gemstone eye. 
You tucked in and struggled to hold in your groan of satisfaction at the taste of the soup. 
Aemond poured you both glasses of red wine and you thanked him as he handed you yours. 
“Are you not going to eat?” you asked him, suddenly feeling self conscious that you were shoveling mouthfuls of stew and bread into your mouth while he merely sipped on his wine and watched you. 
“Oh I intend to. Just not right now, I had what you might call a late afternoon snack,” he said and something about his words had a chill run up your spine, despite the warmth of both the room and the soup in your belly. 
“You told me of your journey here, but tell me about yourself. I find myself fascinated by the entirety of you,” he practically purred, and you immediately forgot your apprehension at his previous words. 
“I feel the same way about you,” you replied breathily. 
He smiled, a full glorious smile that made you feel as if the storm had ended and the sun had come out. But there was a glint, a sharpness, and with a start you realized his canine teeth were elongated. 
He must have seen the fear in your eyes as he reached over and grasped your hand gently. You felt that on fire feeling in your skin once again, but also felt all the fear wash out of your body. 
“Tell me about you,” he requested again, voice soft and low, a tone that caused you to wonder if that was how he spoke to his lovers late at night. 
You were filled with compliance, with a desire to please him, and so you did as you were asked, and told him everything about yourself. You told him of your childhood, your parents, your likes and interests, your dreams for a better life. 
He watched you with rapt attention, murmuring questions to prompt you to further share with him about yourself. And, oh gods, when he looked at you that way, his sapphire gaze so intense, you wanted to share yourself completely. 
“What had you so desperately searching for a new life?” he finally asked. 
So you explained, shamefully, how you laid with a man and became the village whore for merely choosing your own pleasure over mediocrity for once in your life. 
You looked down at your empty bowl, toying with the spoon, while you waited for his reaction, for his disgust and dismissal of you. 
Long cold fingers gently grasped your chin and lifted your head up to meet his gaze. 
You were enraptured by his undivided attention. 
“There’s no need to listen to the opinions of small minded individuals. Pleasure is nothing to feel guilty about. Especially when there are so, so many pleasures in life to discover,” he said and the soft lilt of his voice along with the dark tone made your toes curl. 
You wanted to experience unknown pleasures, you wanted him to teach you, to explore with you. 
You bit your lip, nodding slightly in agreement, and his hand slid up from your chin to curl around your jaw. His thumb stroked the apple of your cheek and you shivered. 
He pulled your bottom lip from between your teeth and you waited, nearly shaking with anticipation, for him to press his lips against your own, to replace the pressure with some of his own, and he smirked as if he knew what you were thinking, but pulled back. 
He sat back in his chair, far enough from you that you no longer felt intoxicated by his scent and presence, and you let out a soft breath of disappointment. 
Amusement and desire both seemed to dance in his gaze. You took a sip of wine, looking away from him to clear your head, and took a breath to steady yourself. 
“Will you tell me about yourself as well, sire?” you asked. 
“Aemond,” he corrected. “Please call me Aemond, sweet one.” 
“Aemond, I’d love to hear about you,” you requested once more. 
It seemed he had the same response to hearing his name drip from your lips as you had when he said yours, for his eyelid fluttered closed and his hand clenched into a fist, but the next breath he had composed himself once more and nodded. 
“My life… it feels as if it has been an eternity. A lonely one at that,” he said and this time you reached over and took his hand, holding it in support. 
“I was treated as if I were unwanted from the moment I was born, my eye taken hatefully when I was merely a boy, and then as a man I was deemed a monster. I was driven out of my home, my family did naught to protect me, and it took me far too long to find a place to call my own. Still, others that encounter me call me a monster and I find myself alone most of the time,” he explained and your heart hurt for him. 
“Why do others call you a monster? Your gemstone eye?” you asked as you leaned closer to him once again. 
This time you leaned in and placed your hand on his face, tracing the length of his scar with your thumb as you gently held his cheek. 
“Hmmm,” he hummed in a noncommittal sort of agreement. 
“I think it’s beautiful,” you said, your voice so soft it was practically a whisper. 
It was evident he heard you as he practically nuzzled his face into your hand. He gripped your wrist and ran his nose from the palm of your hand to the inside of your wrist, breathing in deeply. 
His actions, though gentle and loving, caused an inexplicable feeling of fear to drip down your spine, particularly when his lips pressed against your skin. You’d never realized what a vulnerable place in the body the wrist was, a bundle of veins, until Aemond pressed his perfectly curved lips against it. 
But as soon as it came, the fear was gone as Aemond looked up at you and you met his gaze once more. 
You reached out and pushed his silver hair out of his face where it had fallen and tucked it behind his ear. 
His long gorgeous hair was so soft you yearned to run your fingers through it and learn of his response, learn of the noises he would make when in pleasure. 
“You are so beautiful,” he murmured, appearing as entranced by you as you were by him. 
You could do nothing to hide the way his words flustered you, as the weight of his attention had you pinned down and unable to move. 
He caught your hand and held it in place against his hair. 
As he leaned closer to you, his movements were slow and deliberate, like a predator trying not to spook his prey. 
Your heart began to sprint and you were certain you would never be able to slow it again. 
His sharp nose brushed against yours, and the anticipation was so strong you forgot how to breathe. 
Aemond hummed softly before he finally, finally pressed his lips to yours. 
As his lips moved against yours you felt inherently changed, different. It felt as if a shadowed hand with sharp talons dripping with blood had reached through your chest and gripped your heart and claimed it. 
You were his, his, and you were prepared to swear to him your utter devotion, your life. You didn’t quite understand what you were experiencing, but you didn’t care as he deepened the kiss. As he claimed your mouth you gasped, letting out a small whimper. This gave him the in he needed to slide his tongue against yours. 
You shuddered, gripping his hair tighter as he lifted you with an ease that should not be possible and sat you atop his lap. 
Your dress prevented you from straddling him like you wished, but you could not complain as he gripped your waist tightly. You ran your hands from his face and his hair to his shoulders, down to his arms, gripping him tightly and kissing him deeply, with everything you had, with utter devotion. 
You let out a small yelp of surprise as your tongue explored his mouth and brushed against something entirely too sharp. 
He tore his lips from yours and met your gaze. Your chest brushed against his as it heaved while you attempted to catch your breath. 
Fangs, you recognized. Those were fangs in his mouth, made for sinking his teeth in. 
You could not discern how you felt, what you thought, for the utter fire for him burned through you. 
He traced your jaw, then the line of your neck down to your collarbone, slowly, achingly slowly as you wanted nothing more than for him to kiss you again. Then, his lips followed the same journey his fingers had just taken. You shivered, your head falling back as your eyes fluttered shut. 
“Tell me you are mine,” Aemond ordered, and his breath against the sensitive skin of your neck made you shiver. 
“I’m yours,” you replied breathily and you could feel his smile against your throat. 
“Tell me you want me,” he ordered. 
“I want you,” you whined, and his grip on you tightened nearly to the point of pain, but you could not focus on that. No, not when you felt those fangs graze against that most sensitive spot on your neck. 
The night is dark and full of terrors, the words rang through your head once more and your breath stopped as you realized you had fallen into this beautiful monster’s trap. Fear shot down your spine and made your body tense and freeze. 
“Hmm,” he hummed in reassurance as he pressed a kiss against your vulnerability. 
Your body responded immediately, you relaxed completely, becoming nearly ragdoll like in his arms. He lifted you, holding you as he stood, and walked into the next room, a sitting room of sorts, and laid you on a chaise. 
“Aemond,” you breathed out. 
He kneeled next to where you laid. 
“I care for you,” he said as he brushed a hand across your cheek, “I don’t wish to compel you.” 
He kissed you once more. At the feeling of his lips against yours, you were reborn. You had control over your body once again and you yanked him atop of you, deepening the kiss. 
He groaned into your mouth, and pulled back slightly, causing you to whine in protest. 
“You truly want me?” he asked, his tone sounding surprised. 
Your survival instinct had long since gone quiet as a result of you continuously ignoring its protests. 
“Yes,” you said and pulled his lips to yours again. 
“Perhaps we can make a deal then,” he said, trailing his lips down once more to his favorite spot on your neck, where your veins were most vulnerable.
“If you give me what I want, I will reward you with everything you desire and more,” he said and you again felt the sharpness of those fangs. 
You let out a shuddering breath. 
“Yes,” you agreed, all logic disappearing as desire overtook your very being. 
And you knew. You knew and he knew, that his compelling magic was gone, the desire you felt for him this entire time was real and true, not due to compelling whatsoever. There was something more, something deeper at play here, and your choice was your own as you chose him, completely. 
And with that, he groaned lowly and sank his fangs into your neck.  
Sharp indescribable pain is what you expected but instead it was like a dull buzz of pain nearly overwhelmed by pleasure. 
He ran his hands down your body, ensuring he paid special attention to your breasts and you gasped his name. 
Aemond’s hand slipped up your dress, inching up your burning hot skin, and finding the wetness between your legs that awaited him. 
You whimpered softly as he brushed your panties aside and finally touched you where you wanted him the most. 
His nimble fingers spread your slick and quickly found a rhythm circling your bundle of nerves as he continued to drink your blood. 
As the heat inside you built, he pulled his teeth from your neck and slowly dragged his tongue up your neck, licking up every last drop of blood from your skin. His fingers moved in perfect time with his tongue, and with no notice your release hit you, overwhelming you completely as you moaned loud enough to echo through the room. 
“Absolutely exquisite,” he said as he pulled back from your neck and looked deep into your eyes. 
He ran his thumb over your bottom lip, and you stared at him as your chest heaved, absolutely entranced. He then replaced his thumb with his bloodsoaked lips. 
He groaned as you kissed him eagerly, your blood in his mouth not causing any hesitation whatsoever. 
“I need you,” you gasped. 
“I have needed you for an eternity,” he replied as he began untying the corset of your dress. 
You moaned as the cool air hit your skin and he slowly and gently removed the beautiful dress from your body, leaving you completely bare. You turned and looked at the pile of sapphire velvet on the floor. 
He gripped your chin, turning your head to look at him once more. You helped him to remove his shirt, and then watched eagerly as he unbuckled his belt, beginning to make himself just as bare as you. 
“I must admit something to you,” he said and your mouth ran dry as the hard length of him sprung free. 
“Yes,” you asked breathlessly as you reached and wrapped your hand around him. 
He let out a sound low in his throat, something similar to a growl, as you began to move your hand up and down his length. 
“It is not happenstance that you found yourself in my home. I must confess that I have been watching you for a while now. I needed you. I needed to taste you, to make you mine. I influenced your journey here, guided you, so I could finally show you my devotion,” he said. 
“Then make me yours, completely,” you pleaded and guided his length to line up with your wet heat. 
With a groan he nodded his head and pushed himself inside you. 
He filled you, inch by glorious inch, and you could do nothing but gasp for air as you felt fuller than you’d ever felt in your life. 
You reveled in the press of your naked chest against his, as you pulled him close enough that you couldn’t tell where your body ended and where his began.
You were one with the vampire atop you, and you’d never felt more intense pleasure in your life. 
When he was certain you were ready, he kissed you, surprisingly tenderly, before he pulled out nearly all the way, and pushed back inside you, sinking to the hilt. 
His tempo was slow and deep, as he gazed deep in your eyes and told you how beautiful he found you. 
“Perfect, so perfect,” he praised as you mewled for him when he tilted your hips up and hit a spot of pleasure inside you that had never been found before. 
Aemond continued his pace, holding you tight, as your nails dug into his back. 
“Come for me, darling, I can feel how close you are,” he purred in your ear. 
He slipped his hand between your bodies and found your bundle of nerves once more, stroking it and you nearly screamed as your release wracked through you. 
You felt you had reached heaven, somehow, in the arms of your ethereally beautiful monster lover and it took you several moments to come back down. 
So lost in your pleasure, you had not even felt a sting of pain as he sunk his teeth into your wrist. He gulped your blood, moaning in pleasure, as he continued to pump himself in and out of your tight wet heat, chasing his own release. 
You tangled your other hand in his hair, and gripped tighter around his cock, urging him on, encouraging both his release and for him to continue to drink from you. 
He groaned as his release found him, sinking deep inside you, bringing ecstasy to you both. 
You shuddered a breath as his movements slowed and stopped. He pulled his teeth from your wrist, and murmured your name, like a praise- like a prayer, with utter devotion. 
As he looked at you, you reached up and wiped your blood from where it had dripped down his chin. 
He brought your wrist to his lips once more, and before you could protest that you were beginning to feel lightheaded, he surprised you by licking the wound clean instead of sinking his teeth back in, just as he had with the wound on your neck. 
You watched in fascination, as his saliva magically closed your wound, leaving only a small scar. 
He looked up and grinned at you, your blood coating his teeth, and you whimpered and pulled him into another kiss. 
He kissed you languidly, tongue moving against yours, as if he had all of eternity with you. 
“I have never tasted anything so divine,” he purred against your lips. 
“I have never felt so wonderful in all my life,” you said back as you pulled back enough to look upon him once again. 
“I can feel it. Can you feel it? You are to be my eternity, my everlasting, my one true mate. I give you my utter devotion. You said you wanted to start a new life. Start it with me. Let me turn you and we can be together forever. Stay with me,” he pleaded. 
And so you did. 
Yes, this night was dark and full of terrors, but this terror had wrapped himself around you, sunk deep inside you, and devoted his entire being to you, offering you pleasure and love unlike any you’d ever experienced before. 
And so, later, when Aemond fed you his blood and turned you and you opened your eyes into this new life, becoming a terror yourself, you grinned and kissed your vampire mate, prepared to spend forever by his side. 
456 notes · View notes
mrs-weasley-reid · 7 days
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and this love came back to me
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Aaron Hotchner x (former) bau!reader
Summary: A friend's death brings you back to the loving arms of the BAU family. And like a high tide, it also brought back old feelings that Aaron finds difficult to control.
Warning: fluff! cursing, mentions of death, divorce, miscarriage (tell me if I forgot something)
A/N: this can be read as a stand alone but is a part 2 for you're too sweet for me. it's loosely inspired by This Love (Taylor's Version)
— ✦ — ✦ ✦ — ✦ ✦ ✦
The sight of you is like a dream.
Aaron thinks it might've been the haze of loss and woe that was making him see things, but it isn't. His breath hitched audibly. The sound causes David and Spencer to turn to Aaron, following his line of sight to where you stand at the front door.
As your eyes roam in the crowd of people clad in black, Aaron is the first you see. Your eyes are rimming with red heat and overflowing with tears. Your feet race to Aaron, snatching him into a tight hug like the calvary was out to get you, and he is your only lifeline. "Hotch..." Your voice cracks upon his name as you bury your face on his chest, soaking the fabric of his dress shirt like it hadn't been more than a decade since you saw him last.
Shock fills Aaron's chest, but his hands still remember your frame in his arms so well they wrap themselves around your waist like second nature. Lavender and chamomile. You smell just as he remembers. A mixture of solace and gaiety. Your sniffles sound the same. So distinct that his ears itch.
His mind questions whether seventeen years of his life were all a dream and he'd just woken up. Your embrace feels like a day has never gone by, and you two are young and stupid again. Okay, maybe not stupid. You were never stupid. Not a day in your life were you ever stupid. Aaron insists on the thought.
Right then, Aaron decides that you are real because no one else in his life has ever grabbed him into a bone-crushing hug the way you do. Arms wrapped around his neck like vines. Toes pointed at the earth so you could reach his insane height. He can only think of one other person who'd do that: Jack. But the boy could barely wrap his arms around Aaron's legs at the moment, so it was definitely you.
He closes his eyes, and tears quickly trickle down his face like he's been holding it in. He was. He is under the impression that with all the tearful sobs his team has wept, he should at least swallow his. As usual, he wanted to be a strong foundation for the others. A shoulder they can cry on. So, Aaron forbade himself to cry. At least not in front of everyone.
But then your hold is so tight the heartache finally explodes. You roll in with the reminder that he is permitted to cry, too. To feel the sorrow. To crumble like everyone else in the room.
"I came as soon as I heard," You muffle in his shirt, pulling away to wipe your bottomless tears with the back of your hand.
It takes all of Aaron not to hold you back when your body leaves his cold and empty. Your peripheral had caught David's familiar figure, prompting an automatic brain response to capture him into a hug.
Aaron watches as you exit out of David's embrace, forty-five seconds shorter than his. He doesn't let himself think too hard of it. Afraid that he is to get his hopes up for nothing.
David pats your back, "Glad to see you, kid."
There it is.
Your smile.
A smile so bright it blurs out your chapped lips and runny makeup, "I missed you."
Aaron swears he would've fainted if you'd said that to the Aaron Hotchner from seventeen years ago. The one who can't even pluck up the courage to tell you his feelings. As if he's got the prowess to do it now. As if he hasn't been feeling like a schoolgirl, giddy with any kind of affection you offer him in the past three minutes.
For a moment, Aaron let himself indulge in the delusion that you came for him and only him. His bubble burst into a sharp pop in an instant, though. Because then your eyes shift away from him, "I missed everyone." You reiterate with much clearer keywords.
A tug aches Aaron's chest. How can he forget? You are kind to everyone. You are a safe space for everyone. A light for everyone. So, as special as your embrace was for him, it was a normal thing for you.
Then the realization hits him. He was at a funeral, for Pete's sake. He beats himself up mentally. For letting his unrequited feelings for you go rogue like wild animals, hysterical.
Focus, Aaron. He scolds himself.
Your effect on him is still as rabid as ever. He hates it a bit. Blames your perfection in his eyes. Blames himself for still harboring feelings that should've withered years ago. How the love glowed in the darkest depths of his chest as soon as you'd said his name. How a glimpse of you revived every piece of shattered heart. How the high tide of your arrival brought in waves and waves of his feelings back. He claims you are being unfair. Considering the fact that you are oblivious and at no fault.
A cough cuts the reunion short.
Aaron's thoughts dissipate like a fog blown by a violent wind. He mentally thanks the person for bringing him back to reality.
The three of you turn to Derek Morgan. You don't know the man, but you offer him a soft smile—one with your lips closed but curvy enough to be friendly or display an apology—in hopes that he doesn't form the wrong impression of you.
Other faces come into view. Now you wonder who they might be and what special place they hold in Jason Gideon's loving memory. Was he a mentor, a boss, a friend, or a family? Because your senses have never let you down, feeling the capacity of their mourning through their sullen faces and glossy eyes.
Then again, it has been years since you stepped foot on American soil. You aren't sure how many people Jason Gideon made acquaintance with. Maybe you were smiling too widely that it offended people. It's his funeral after all.
Aaron doesn't let your thoughts wander too far, clearing his throat. As if he sensed your insecurities rattle in the pit of your stomach. If you were flushed by it, your puffy face hid it well. He stands between you and the group of people who watched him in detail.
"Everyone, I'd like you to meet an important vessel of the behavioral analysis unit..." Aaron introduces you with great renown. He says your first name with an undertone the team picks up but doesn't mention. "We worked on many cases together when the unit was too small to focus on one case at a time." He turns his entire body to face you. A hand makes its way to the lower of your back as if to tell you that the strangers are safe enough to be in close proximity with. "These are agents Derek Morgan, Jennifer Jareau, Kate Callahan, Dr. Spencer Reid, and tech analyst Penelope Garcia. The A team." He beams with pride like he'd just shown you his golden medals.
Your jaw drops, hands landing over your chest as a soft gasp escapes you. You look between Aaron and David to confirm, earning two series of nods. "This is the team? Like a team, team?" You can't help but tear up from the utter joy that rushed through your veins.
The said team found you overdramatic. They exchange looks between them. A silent conversation, judging whether they should let their eccentric impression of you stick or give you another chance to redeem yourself. They guessed that the death of a friend may have contributed to your screwy image.
Still, a woman with a kind smile and breathtaking beauty doesn't hesitate to approach you. "You can call me JJ," She starts and offers her hand. You shake it firmly like she's about to interview you for a job. "I used to work with Gideon as a liaison. I never imagined that I'd be one of the profilers who'd solve his case." An awkward smile laces atop her lips, also shock with the randomness of her last words.
Wonderment masked your face. The fact you were supposedly at a funeral was forgotten momentarily. You glance at David with twinkling eyes. "A liaison?" You squeal in a whisper.
"Wait until Penelope Garcia shakes your hand," David whispers back as he leans close to you.
You follow his subtle gaze at the other blonde woman across. Technical Analyst. You remind yourself. An amused scoff bounces off your throat.
Aaron chuckles and hands you a square cloth, "A lot has changed since you left. We have a floor to ourselves now." He is unaware of the team's watchful eyes, taking notes of his every motion next to you.
"Oh, I'm sorry," You take his handkerchief and blot your weepy face. "I must look crazy." A bright giggle roars out of you. "It's just... There were only four of us as a unit, and we had to share our workspace with other units. Cases took a lot more time to solve back in the day."
"How long?" Penelope curiously asks, as if it is the most important detail she has yet to hear. She is a sunshine. It takes one to know one. You swear she's glowing despite the dry mascara stain on her face from all the tears early on the day.
"Too long," You shake your head, trailing off as your face flashes a dreadful expression. "I'm just glad all of you were there to solve Jason's case. I really wanted to help, but I had important matters to take care of." You vaguely share. Your mind quickly shoves the thoughts that you deem irrelevant to the moment.
"You knew Gideon?" The tall boy with unruly hair asks with sorrowful eyes. Dr. Spencer Reid. He had a frown on his face.
"You're not the first genius Jason picked up," David quips, causing a chuckle to most except the young doctor.
Spencer throws his gaze somewhere else. He has been impacted by Jason's death more than anyone else on the team. The tear stains on his face had yet to fade. So, joking about Jason still made his heart ache.
You glance at Aaron, asking him all the questions in your head without letting it slip out of your mouth. Your connection never broke. He could hear your questions loud and clear just by meeting your eyes, and it felt euphoric. Still, he concentrates on your airy curiosity, nodding once.
Just like that, your attention drew to Spencer, "He used to beat me in chess." You state at random, making the group quiet.
Spencer offers you a tight-lipped, wistful smile, "Me too."
You walk closer to him with a soft smile and a "has he ever given you tickets?" The two of you took off to another part of the room, chatting, cheering him up just a bit.
Somehow, the small interaction between you and Spencer made Aaron explode in happiness. He doesn't know why exactly, but it felt fatherly. He wasn't too far older than Spencer, but he'd watched him grow into a great profiler. He knew Spencer like the back of his hand, even if bits of Spencer's life were swept under his palm. So, he knew that it wasn't easy for Spencer to be generously welcoming, especially when someone important to his life just died. And when you knew exactly what to say, understood what Aaron's nod meant, it made his heart swollen. You bonded with Spencer in mere seconds as if you were the one to give him life. Aaron adored it. He couldn't explain the reason, but he hoped that Spencer could find refuge with you.
The day wheels into the night. Fewer and fewer people scatter around Stephen Gideon's residence. You find yourself standing by the terrace with David and Aaron, reminiscing the old days, coddling a glass of whiskey.
Aaron is stunned by your choice of alcohol. He remembers you preferring a much sweeter drink.
"I've always liked whiskey," You correct him gently. A laugh forced its way out against the neat liquid sliding down your throat.
"That sounds wrong," Aaron chuckles, "I swear you even hated it with a passion."
You give him a weird look with a subtle grin, "You must be thinking of someone else because Jason and I like the same exact brand of whiskey. You're getting old, Hotchner." You tease, hiding the butterflies in your stomach.
Aaron's eyes widen as he points an accusatory finger at you, "Jason introduced me to whiskey! You're definitely lying!"
"Well, duh!" You roll your eyes, "It's Jason. He's practically our father." You state, straightening your back as you lean against the railing. The wind whips across your face.
"So, what? I was just a fly on the wall? I'm starting to regret calling you back home." David interjects, spreading his arms as he furrows his brows. He caters to his own glass in the comfort of a chair.
"You're mother bird. Everybody knows that," You grin. The urge to cry has finally stopped. Though, you suspect it was the jet lag and hunger from the ghastly flight.
The three of you fell into fits of laughter. Well, just you. Aaron and David only had wide grins on their faces. After all these years, they still refused to laugh loudly. You didn't mind it, though. Because you felt at home.
Aaron nudges your shoulder, "How'd you get here so fast? If I'm not mistaken, the flight from Paris to Virginia is at least nine hours long." He tries to sound casual, like he hadn't looked up the distance long ago and that, for some reason, he kept the knowledge tucked in one of the wrinkles in his brain.
A smug grin made its way to your face, "Does the BAU have a jet?" You brag, sipping your glass empty as you raise your chin with pride.
"You'd be surprised," David takes the liberty to respond, shaking his head while his brows raise in disbelief. A ring brings his attention to his phone on the table but continues to finish his thoughts out loud. "The team's filled with young people now, and suddenly, I'm ancient history. Hold on, you two. I need to take this." And he slips back inside the house to find a quieter space.
You and Aaron exchange looks.
A smile slowly lifted the ends of his lips. It was a handsome sight.
It felt like time had stopped.
You break from his gaze, "So? How's everything? How long has it been? Like, thirteen—"
"Seventeen," Aaron cuts you off, nonchalantly drowning his throat with liquor.
You blink, "That long?" He nods at the air. "Damn, Hotch. You're making me feel old." You nudge his side, though you barely caused any impact. Your brows are drawn as if you aren't certain whether to take it lightly or feel slightly offended.
He rolls his eyes. Had his team know how much of his expressive side had the habit of showing every time he was with you, they'd start a riot.
"You didn't age a day. You still look young." You still look beautiful.
"Flattery won't get you access to the French database, Hotch. You know that." You kid, playing with the ice cubes in your glass. The clinking sound makes you smile. You convince yourself it was the reason, at least.
"You caught me," Aaron says in a sarcastic tone. He lets the silence sink in for a moment, spoiling himself with your presence for a brief moment. Just for a second, he wants to keep the moment to himself. Just the two of you. Just you and him.
And when he felt satisfied enough, he brought his life into the mix, "I got married." He almost jumps from his spot at the sudden snap of your neck. You beam with excitement, encouraging him to say more. "Haley... she was a great woman, person. We have a son, Jack. He's nine years old."
You looked like a child listening to a fairytale. You pat his shoulder, "Hotch, that's so amazing! Are they here? Did you bring them with you?" You glance inside the sliding glass door, scanning the crowd.
He should've continued talking. "W-we... We got divorced, and... she died," Aaron's voice got lower with each syllable, completely soundless by the end of his sentence. He doesn't know why he feels shame. It has been years, and even if it still makes him sad sometimes, Aaron takes pride in the fact that Haley sacrificed her life.
"What?" The excitement plummets off your chest.
Aaron takes a big gulp. You'd missed so much it became difficult to tell you more. "She died. Five years ago." He clears his throat, "But I'm okay now. Jack and I are doing well on our own."
Your expression softens, and a hand unconsciously sits atop his hand, "I'm so sorry, Hotch." You squeeze his hand. Part of you felt guilty for feeling excited, for getting ahead of yourself like usual. You fear that your enthusiasm may have caused Aaron triple the heartache he is already feeling.
"It's a long time ago. I'm really fine. Jack's growing up like a spitting image of her. He's an amazing kid." He doesn't want to bring the mood down. He's honest when he says that he feels fine. "Enough about me. How about you? Do you have anyone waiting in France? Any kids?" If he can recall, you always told him how badly you wanted to have a family.
You lick your lower lip into a thin purse. You gaze at the evening view of the backyard with a heavy sigh, loosening your shoulders, "I was going to..." Aaron's brows scrunched at the way you phrased your response, but he didn't say anything. "Before I became the chief, I was part of the undercover agents. Days before my new assignment, I found out that I was pregnant. Louis wanted me to take a break from work, but I insisted that I work. The day I learned I was going to have a boy, I got caught in a crossfire. I tried to fight for him, but it was either me or him." You release a heavy sigh, "The doctors chose me. They chose wrong... Louis blamed me for losing our baby. I still do, too. We had a hard time bouncing back up after that. We just finalized our divorce yesterday." You smile weakly at Aaron, masking the hurt that pierced every inch of your heart. You quickly swipe the single drop of tear that managed to trail down your cheek.
Aaron glances at your intertwined hands. He feels guilty for liking it despite the dense atmosphere of your conversation. So, he lets go of it to snake an arm around your shoulders, giving you a tight side hug. "Don't say that, sweetheart..." The endearment rolls off his tongue like butter. He doesn't dwell on it, eager to lessen your pain. "I'm certain that he's glad you lived. He wouldn't have liked the world if he never got the chance to be raised by you." He starts to imagine how awful Louis looks and how much Aaron would make him look worse. He's barely known the guy, but he despises how horrible he's treated you at the time you needed a loving husband the most.
The next thirty minutes became quiet, and Aaron thought that maybe catching up wasn't such a great idea. He should've known that your lives weren't exactly on the greener side.
Then he wonders what life would've been if you hadn't left. He shakes his head. Despite the unrequited love he had for you, he still loved Haley with all his heart and would never change anything if it meant Jack being born. He assumes you'd think the same.
"I sometimes wish I came back here, you know." You blurt out as if you are reading straight from his mind like a book, breaking the silence. "I missed out on so much. Your wedding. You becoming a father. David's other weddings... Jason. I wish I was here for everything." You lean your head against him, letting his warmth spread on your skin. "I don't regret going to France or anything that happened in my life, but I wish I could've been in both places at the same time."
Aaron nods, "Yeah, it would've been nice to have you here." He thinks otherwise because he wishes you stayed. He hoped that despite his cowardness, he'd got you around the block and not a continent away.
He takes it up to himself to change the topic into a lighter tone.
He starts talking about Jack and the satisfying struggles of fatherhood. He shows you videos and photos from his phone. You are engaged in a heartbeat, laughing at the littlest humor he'd throw in. You adored his son. That made Aaron beam with pride. Granted, a lot of people have told him the same thing, but coming from you, it was like he'd received an accolade.
Somewhere in the evening, Stephen steals you from Aaron's company. You're easily filled with joy at the sight of an old friend, ignoring the fact that Jason's son used to have a childish crush on you. Other old acquaintances got a hold of you, too.
Aaron never got to see you again for the rest of the evening.
— ✦ — ✦ ✦ — ✦ ✦ ✦
It has been eleven months since Aaron last saw you when his peripheral caught your figure as soon as he stepped inside David's home.
"She's with the team," David announces casually.
Aaron's brows knit together as he brings his gaze back to David, "What's that?"
"I said she's with the team," David repeats, glancing down the hallway. "You better catch her before she leaves. I got lucky when I called her. She's about to take her flight back to France. This is why I set an arrival time—" Before he could finish his last sentence, Aaron was already halfway down.
Jack Hotchner watches as his father speedwalks inside David's house, "Is Dad okay?" He looks up at David with worried eyes.
"He's alright," David pats Jack's head. "See, kiddo. Your dad used to have a crush on someone before he married your mom."
"Is she pretty? Is she nice?" Jack queries.
David smiles, "How about you decide yourself?" He guides the young Hotchner toward the center of the celebration.
Meanwhile, you are in the middle of wishing Dr. Tara Lewis good luck for her new place in the BAU when Aaron calls your name. You pivot on your heels. A smile instantly brightens your face at the sight of Aaron, "Hotch!" You exclaim, engulfing him in a hug.
"You should've told me you were in the area." Aaron's grin is brighter than yours.
Unbeknownst to him, a couple of watchful profilers keep their eyes peeled at you and Aaron.
"Are they?" Tara trails off next to Penelope.
"They worked on many cases together," Penelope replies suggestively, wiggling her brows as she sips from her swirly straws.
JJ grins at the conversation, "He's like an entirely different person with her. Think of Spencer." She hides a grin behind her glass of wine.
Spencer furrows his brows as he looks at JJ. "Should I be offended?" He clutches the mug of eggnog close to his chest.
"No," JJ shakes her head defensively, elongating the last letter. The others erupt into silent chuckles.
Derek nudges Penelope while he's got an arm wrapped around Savannah, nodding towards you and Aaron's direction, "Look. Hotch is about to introduce Jack to her. How much are you betting he's trying to get Jack's approval? Will Jack even like her? She looked crazy at first—Ow!" He rubs the side Savannah just elbowed, wincing.
Jack shyly stands in front of his father as he looks up at you. You had no doubt he looked a lot like his mother now that you'd meet him in person. You don't forget about Aaron, though, because they had matching eyebrows that narrow every time they attempt to read someone intently.
You squat down to Jack's height, "Nice to meet you, Jack. Your dad has told me a lot of great things about you!" You rummage into your bag, fishing out a huge peppermint lollipop disk. "I didn't expect to meet you today, so I wasn't prepared to bring a gift you'd like, but you can have this if you want it."
Jack glances at his dad from behind him and then back to you. A wide smile spreads across his face as he takes the sweet from you, "I like this one, too! Thank you!" You almost stumble down when he launches to hug you.
"You're welcome!" Your giggle echoes in the entire house. You hadn't expected him to attack you with a hug, let alone a stranger you'd identify yourself as.
Aaron couldn't help but feel overjoyed. He doesn't know how to keep his heart from beating faster as you glance at him with a tooth-rottenly sweet smile while hugging his son.
You really were unfair to him.
He's hopeless. A lost cause. He should've known from years ago. Should've known that you'd leave a permanent mark on him.
"Dad," Jack gestures for Aaron to get down. He leans close as soon as his father oblige to his command, covering his mouth.
Aaron's eyes subtly widen. His ears burn into a beet-red blush. He clears his throat, "How about you say hi to the others? Play with Henry and Reid, okay?" He dismisses, ignoring the innocent words that rang in his ears. He gently pushes Jack toward the team's direction.
"He's such a sweetheart," You say as you get back on your feet. You glance at Aaron, "You're doing amazing. He's lucky to have you." You turn to the team. Laughters passed between one another. "They're all lucky to have you." You add, crossing your arms on your chest.
"She's good," Savannah nods in amazement. She's only heard of you from Derek but can finally see the difference in Aaron's demeanor the moment he caught a glimpse of you.
"Who randomly has a giant lollipop in their bag?" Derek states in disbelief, the total opposite of how Savannah reacted. He hands JJ a ten-dollar bill, though.
Spencer shrugs, "I would've been way nicer to her if she offered me one last time." He pouts at the sight of Jack waving the lollipop like a taunt.
JJ and Tara laugh.
"Oh, shoot!" You exclaim, twisting your wrist to glimpse at the time. "I still have to pass by somewhere before my flight. Say bye to Dave for me, yeah?" The rush makes you quite frantic, pulling Aaron in. You leave a peck on his cheek, patting his shoulders like it's tradition. "Merry Christmas, Aaron." You bid farewell with a smile and began to walk.
"Wait—" Aaron grabs your wrist. It's so small in his hand. He makes sure he held you tight in a gentle grip. The last thing he wants is to break your wrist.
Your body recoils a few steps back to him as a product of his pull. "Yes?" Anticipation sparks in your eyes as you wait for his response. You must've drank wine too fast because electricity surged through veins, all coming from his firm hold.
A huge lump forms in his throat. "I—" Suddenly, Aaron is tongue-tied.
I want you to stay.
He fights hard to swallow the rock that kept him from talking and clearing his throat. "I'll walk with you," He wishes the ground would swallow him whole. But he suspects that even the devil himself is too embarrassed for him to let him in.
"Oh..." You don't know why you felt disappointed. What were you even expecting in the first place? You flash a smile, though. "Sure."
— ✦ — ✦ ✦ — ✦ ✦ ✦
Aaron stays at David's for two more hours before he decides that Jack needs to catch up on some sleep before they leave for Jessica's place in the morning. So, he drives through the light traffic, listening to Jack sing along the radio.
Jingle Bell Rock had just ended, and the DJ interjects for an update about the evening traffic during the transition to the next song when Jack asks a question. "Where did your crush go, Dad?" He inquires all too nonchalantly.
"What did you say?" It takes everything in Aaron to will his eyes to stay on the road and his hands to keep complete control of the wheel. He glances at Jack from the rearview mirror.
"The pretty, nice lady who gave me this," Jack hoists the lollipop in his hand like a wand. He takes a taste of it and adds, "You think she likes Christmas movies? Can we invite her?"
Aaron blinks fast. He couldn't believe how much Jack had grown fond of you in only minutes of interacting with him. He ponders whether you're some kind of a witch. He clears his throat in an obvious fake cough, "I'm sure she'd love to, buddy."
"Can you call her to come back? We can invite her for hot cocoa!"
"Sorry, buddy," Aaron feels bad. He doesn't even know your phone number, even if he could get it within seconds from Penelope. "She had to go and do some work. Maybe n-next time." He isn't sure why he was stuttering in front of his child.
"You didn't ask her to stay?"
It felt like a freezing wave of water filled with ice washed over Aaron. Then, for a moment, he feels proud to know that Jack's innocence has given him the bravery Aaron couldn't even muster.
"No, bud... I didn't." He admits more melancholy to a nine-year-old than he intended to.
Jack sighs, "Aww. Yeah, maybe next time, Dad. I'm sure she'll like to hang out with you if you give her a lollipop. She'll think you're nice. It worked for me. I think she's really nice." He stares at the molded sugar in his hand.
Aaron couldn't believe his son was talking some sense into him. Where did the time go? Jack sounds more mature than Aaron has ever felt for months since he's seen you after years. He tightens his grip on the wheel, clenching his jaw from the sudden torrent of courage that blazes his chest.
"Jack, would you mind passing by somewhere before we go home?"
The boy shakes his head, "It's okay as long as you're okay with me staying past my bed time." Jack giggles.
Aaron chuckles, "I'll let it slide this time," He jests, then turns the wheel and heads to the airport.
You come back from the restroom, looking for a place to sit and wait, when a small figure wraps his arms around your torso, "Jack? What are you doing here? Are you by yourself? Are you okay?" You quickly scan him from head to toe. You could barely move from the way he held you.
He's okay. You tell yourself. Had he been hurt you weren't sure how to face his father.
"I found her, Dad!" Jack shouts, earning looks from exhausted patrons. He leans backwards but still tangled around your legs like his life depended on it.
You panic for a second. Unsure what to make out of his statement. You look around first to mutter an apology on behalf of the boy, but somewhere along the lines you felt like you were a mother denying her child.
"Great job, Jack." You hear a voice so familiar you needn't have to look up to confirm your guess. Aaron walks closer to the two of you out of breath. He tries to play it out but the rise and drop of his shoulders didn't pass your gaze.
You lift your vision up and meet with Aaron's heaving self. "Hotch? What's going on? Is everything okay?" You coax like you aren't sure if he's going to tell you the truth.
Aaron tucks a portion of his lower lip. Fuck. He ran out of courage. His throat is tight. His brain is frozen. His body is stiff.
Jack takes his father's hand and pulls him closer to where you stood. He looks up at you, "Dad has a crush on you. I also think you're nice. Can you watch Christmas movies and drink hot cocoa with us, please?" He says intelligently like he's tired of his father freezing on the spot whenever he faces you.
Your brows knit together, but a huge grin raises the ends of your lips. "He what?" You meet Aaron's blushing gaze. You've never seen his neck, face, and ears glow in rosy red except that one time during an undercover case.
Aaron melts into a chuckle, lowering his head. "I, uh..." He scoffs a laugh, "I can't believe you heard it from Jack first." He meets your eye once more, "Would you mind staying for a bit?" It's clear he has no idea what he was doing. He thinks he's about looking idiotic in front of many people and, most importantly, his son.
You hear your name from below, looking down at Jack as he gestures for you to go down. You do as he says, leaning close when he moves next to your ear, "Dad is very shy, but he really likes you. He smiles when he talks to you. I think he would be happy if you hang out with us." Jack whispers so well Aaron is left to wonder.
"You really think so?" You ask audibly for the sake of Aaron's sanity. You ruffle Jack's hair as he nods eagerly. "I don't mind at all," You smile at Aaron so sweet he feels euphoric.
All three of you leave the airport. The traffic then has grown more difficult to maneuver into, and by the time Aaron parks his car in the driveway, Jack is already ten minutes in his sleep.
You chuckle as you both turn to the backseat, "I stand corrected," You smirk, "I think you're lucky to have him."
"Yeah," Aaron titters, "He's a lot braver than me." He adds gently, reaching out to fix Jack's hair.
A comfortable silence basks the two of you. Jack's soft breathing faintly rings in the background as if both of you had to make sure he's there.
Aaron looks at you, though. He relishes the way the dim light from outside casts a shadow on your face. He loves the way your soft features are still visible despite the dark. "Stay," He blurts out.
"Sure, I'll stay 'til I find another flight—"
"No, I meant..." He struggles to swallow the saliva in his mouth. "I want you to stay. Here... with me." Aaron shifts his eyes down on the gearstick. "I'm not saying that I never loved Haley, but I never stopped loving you." He's sure that no normal person would declare their love the way he just did. He hoped that some foreign spaceship would open the roof of his car and take him away. "I don't know if I make sense. I'm certain that I'm ruining my chances the more I speak, but I want you to stay. I should've asked you to stay a long time ago."
Your gaze sinks into Aaron's eyes. You tuck your lips. Then, you smile. "I agree," You acknowledge, moving your eyes on his lips for a milisecond.
Aaron straightens his back, "I know it's been years," He babbles a laugh, moving his hands as he speaks. "It's okay if you don't— wait—" He blinks once or twice. "Did you just agree? To what exactly?" Only you can make him stumble on his own thoughts.
"I'll stay," You declare, biting the inside of your lower lip. You scoff a silent laugh, "I should've done this a long time ago."
"Done what?" Aaron narrows his brows.
Your gaze jumps between his eyes and his lips, "This," You cup his face with both your hands, clashing your lips like he's in need of saving from a true love's kiss.
Aaron melts into your hold. Not long does he track his hands up your shoulders. Then, to your back, pulling you closer. His hands travel all over you, exploring every inch.
All his life he's seen you as some idea of sweet poison. But as his lips dance with yours, he couldn't ignore the lingering bitter taste of whiskey. He laughs into the kiss. He's been ignorant, wrapped in a saccharine image of you. Was he so wrong for that.
He claims you're still too sweet for him, but was he so glad you came back to him.
Jack moves in his sleep. You both freeze on the spot, lightly pushing Aaron to create space between you.
A soft giggle echoes from your lips, leaning your forehead against his shoulder, "We should bring him upstairs."
"I think that's a good idea," Aaron quips. He unbuckles his seatbelt and opens his door, but before he gets out, he steals another peck on your lips.
216 notes · View notes
katasstrophy · 1 year
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Bruh Nagi being buff as hell after Manshine's training 🥰🥰🥰
sammy you deadass bout to make me objectify this man on main SO BAD this has been running something of a small marathon in my head so 😵‍💫😵‍💫 pls accept my humble word vomit
cw. [n]sfw. mdni. pro player! nagi + aged-up characters. bit of body worship(?) you ride his abs. nipple play (m. receiving). subby nagi (but he's actually a switch >:) + some fluff bc he's so baby :(
note. a bit rambly oop soz it’s bc i went insane. i describe how he looks like to ME (re: hot as fuck) but i guess y'all can read it too hehe<3
1.4k words -> how could you ever hope to keep your hands to yourself when nagi's body looks like that.
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i feel like unless you have prior knowledge of the fact that nagi is a pro athlete, from a cursory glance, your first thought upon seeing him wouldn’t be “hmm i bet that dude is built like a brick house.” it doesn’t help that nagi’s basically the unofficial king of athleisure — his closet’s chockfull of loose-fitting hoodies and sweats. he barely owns anything else besides those monochrome hooded tracksuits (and sportswear for practice, i guess he’d need some of that too lol) because he claims it’s the only outfit that gives him unlimited access to just lounge about basically anywhere he pleases. it’s what he genuinely finds to be the most comfortable style for him as well. but if you’re fortunate enough to get a peak underneath the layers of baggy clothes? dear god nagi’s built like a fever dream. amen you’ll eat so good then he’s a whole ass feast. 
i’m gonna brazenly speak my truth here so don’t come for me >:( but! from what you’d consider to be “a typical footballer’s physique”, purely from that perspective, nagi’s legs are… not that impressive. his stagnant motivation has much improved ever since he committed to making a career out of soccer, but that doesn’t mean his slacker tendencies haven’t followed suit. don’t get me wrong, he still puts his all into every game so his legs are still very much capable of making your mouth water, but you won’t catch him sprinting up and down the field at full speed if he can help it. packed with lean muscle, his thighs are thick, calves well-defined with a few bold veins thinly zigzagging down the taut skin like a lightning strike on the occasion you happen to catch him after a particularly gruelling conditioning session. but compared to some of his teammates whose legs seem to be carved from iron, he’s a bit.. overshadowed.
it’s a fairly similar story with his arms. (i promise i’m not just talking shit lol i could NEVER my poor meow meow it’s gonna get so hot in a second i swear just bear with me!!!) again, it’s most definitely a drool-worthy sight. the stretch of his arms is long and sinewy, rolling with a set of generous biceps that flutter under the gentle scrap of your fingerpads and nails when he (totally intentionally) flexes the swell of muscle there. in his profession, he mostly uses his arms for balance and to create distance between himself and his opponents. buried in his private nook back home, he has a tendency to hold his phone above his head while playing mobile games — that blissfully only rarely come crashing down on his face — but his unrivalled favourite will, of course, always be enveloping you in his arms <3 
nagi’s not the most expressive person, but his subtle social cues become much easier to pick up on whenever he’s sleepy, which let’s be honest is almost always. he’s in dire need of a snuggle in those moments and not only loves, but craves being close to you physically, his face a canvas of huffy evidence of what a Big Deal this is to him if you learn to read the hidden hints (it’s a pursed, pouty frown nine times out of ten he ain’t slick lmfao). he kind of regards your presence as his “recharging station” what a cringe fail soggy loser man i adore him with my whole heart 🥹 his lanky limbs will snake around you with the security of a vine until you’re all cosy and wrapped up in each other, his hold bearing enough strength to not budge against any playful escape tactics you might attempt — at least not until he decides he’s had his fair share of quality snuggle time with you. 
nagi’s a practical man, however — the world doesn’t call him a lazy genius for nothing. for these, albeit lovely, purposes, he determined there’s absolutely no need to overexert himself by lifting weights to buff up his arms. he can get by just fine! there are definitely more jacked arms out there i’m sorry :(
but here’s the kicker. nagi’s tall. you could even say he’s huge — he’d tower over most people if he actually straightened his posture for once. so his muscle mass kind of stretches out a bit… unevenly throughout his body. he does have muscle mass though, plenty of it, actually, and he needs only to do one tiny little thing to remind you of it: lift his shirt up. 
it’s a subconscious, everyday thing for nagi to toy with the hem of his cotton tees. his fingers often grow restless if they’re just lying about, so playing with the material of his clothes is not only stupidly ready at hand but also helps to soothe the itch brimming along his fingers to do something with them. in the process, you’re rewarded with glimpses of his stomach often when he involuntarily ends up exposing the skin clinging to those hard planes. but what’s objectively worse for your sanity is when nagi comes trudging into the kitchen to ease his thirst. he never bothers with a glass from the cupboard, just swoops down to drink from the open tap, his adam’s apple bopping rhythmically as he swallows. there’s water coating his lips when he rises, a few droplets still running down his chin that he tugs on the ends of his t-shirt to lazily wipe away. it’s an innocent endeavour to him, but a sinful display for you, as it essentially shows off his entire, deliciously shaped midriff. nagi might slack off in other areas, but his core strength is insane. his torso is like a gift from the heavens, chiselled after the image of their gods and heroes. don’t even get me started on his abs.
because i cannot stress enough how perfect nagi’s abs are for grinding your sweet, drooling little cunny on :( the ridges of muscle packed together at his abdomen are firm, but twitch almost uncontrollably when you slowly drag your cunt up and down the sculpted slabs of his stomach that bump against your poor, swollen clit in a way that makes you delirious. your thighs bracket his waist as you move, his waist that is so trim and almost tiny compared to the broad stretch of his shoulders. you can feel the coarse, light hair of his happy trail graze against your bare ass, leading to his heavy, stirring cock still confined in his sweats for now as you continue to leisurely rut your pussy down his abs, leaving a slick mess behind. the hard cut of his v-line is so prominent a thin contour of shadow clings to the underside of it.
nagi wishes desperately that he could help you, that he could sink his fingers into the plush of your skin and push you down along his abdomen to accelerate your high, dictate a more intense pace for you by his hands and make you take it, but he’s too busy being a moaning, blubbering mess underneath you to take initiative. his large palm lies dormant at your waist, the other tangled in his snowy, sweaty bangs so he doesn’t miss even a blink of the intoxicating vision you present above him. he’s drunk on every salacious sound that comes tumbling from your lips, every wanton contortion of your gorgeous face as the lewd squelching of your pussy fills his ears. his defined chest is flushed red from arousal, shuddering with shaky exhales as he all but devours the sight of you — he thinks you using him for your own pleasure is so fucking hot. 
if you want to turn him into an utter wreck, whining like a bitch in heat, please please play with his nipples :( paw at his pecs all needy first, ‘n don’t be afraid to grip the flesh with the blunt of your nails. he’ll mewl about it, but you only need to shush and praise him, tell him how good he looks like this for you and he’ll behave. pinch at the pretty pink of his pebbled nipples, gently circle his areola with your tongue, sucking on the bud and nagi will lose his mind, might even cum untouched :( but that’s okay because he’s so turned on his refractory period is barely an issue, he’ll sink into your tight, sloppy walls in one go and fuck you absolutely senseless on his cock. it’s all you can do to scramble for purchase with your trembling fingers, marking up the milky expanse of his broad back and mouthing at his collarbones to stifle your near pornographic keens and cries as he mercilessly splits you open.
in conclusion nagi seishiro is built like a wet dream and i want him carnally </3
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mists-dark-zone · 7 months
Note
Hi!
So.. i read you kinktober stuff and boi.. my mind is running like..
i have some thoughts, like Creator doing 1, 12, 23 to Zhongli, mainly cuz i have a love and hate relationship with him. That is the result of my friend making me hate him that bad, but that is another story.
Though, back to my thoughts on Zhongli being a sub, like ugh, I love me some sub men that are powerful. Zhongli crying and begging for release due to over stim? Beautiful.
Zhongli released a soft whine and yet he doesn't want to disappoint you, not after he was given this plant to take care of by you. Yet, he is so humiliated to be at the mercy of the pathetic plant, not fully realizing that he was pulled into the trap that was set up by you. There are times where it just teases him after a long night of endless rounds, but he won't return the plant cuz of what the creator said before handing him the plant, "Surely someone as strong as you can handle the plant i made just for you." - Kaeya anon
Kinktober day "3"
I know it's technically day 7,but this took awhile to write T-T. Days 4,5,6,and 7 will be posted soon,as well as day 8.
This request was very fun to write,thank you for it!
Zhongli
1: Humiliation
12: Expositionalism
23: Tentacles
Content warning: ⚠️This work has dubious consent⚠️
If this bothers you I ask that you leave,for your own wellbeing!!
If these things make you uncomfortable DO NOT INTERACT!! I am not liable for it if you do!
There was a knock at your door.
"Your grace?" The voice of your most loyal servant came through. "May I come in?" He said before politely waiting outside. 'He was definitely the perfect one for this job',you thought to yourself before speaking.
"Yes,please come in." Zhongli walked in,head held high. He gave a deep bow,almost going to kneel at your feet until you stopped him. "That will not be necessary today." He peered at you,confused. "Zhongli,I have a task for you." He had perked up at the word task,straighting himself back up.
You move gracefully across the room,mentioning for him to follow. You smiled to yourself as you picked up a plant in a pot. Leaves of deep purple,with...tentacle like stems and leaves. It was a type of vine,you supposed. Gingerly picking up the plant,you turned to Zhongli.
"This plant here is one I made specifically for you,my most loyal follower. I ask that you please take care of it." You held it out to him,and Zhongli nodded. His stoic face betrayed the way he was feeling inside,the bubbling pride and excitement making it's way through his body.
Zhongli bowed deeply. "I am honored to have such a privilege,your grace." You nodded,a similar excitement bubbling inside of you,but for reasons very different than what Zhongli could guess. You carefully placed the pot into his waiting hands. You waved a dissmissal, and he bowed deeply once again,turning to leave. Just as he opened the door,you called out to him,making him turn around.
"It's a special plant Zhongli,so make sure to give it extra special care." You said with a wink before going back to your work. Zhongli briskly left the room,scurrying through your giant palace domain. He had his own place,but decided to go to the room assigned to him as an acolyte instead,saving some time. He quickened his pace,wanting to get there as soon as he possibly could. He couldn't understand why,but he felt he needed the space his room gave for something,although he was unsure why this thought came to mind.
He finally made it to his room. It was a barren yet large place. He had his bed pushed to the left side, which at the foot the door to his in room bathroom was. That door was closed however,so after a minute of looking around,Zhongli placed the plant on his desk,which was the direct opposite of his bed.
He stared at the plant for a moment. It looked...odd,but all the colors were absolutely beautiful in a way Zhongli wouldn't have seen before. He was studying the plant so intently that he hardly noticed that it had moved a bit.
He snapped out of it only when he realized that it would be best if he watered the plant. Fresh water would be best,he thought to himself. So,he walked to the door,ready to walk out. That was,until he was grabbed.
Something hard and thick wrapped around his waist,pulling him up into the air in the middle of the room. He let out a yelp,trying desperately to push the thing off of him. He looked down at it,trying to see what exactly was holding him captive. It looked to be a vine of sorts,and he wondered if he could maybe slash it with his polearm...
...That was,until a sweet smell began secreting from the plant,causing him to go limp and his thoughts to cloud up. He continued to fight,squirming around in a pathetic attempt to escape,but there was no strength behind his actions. It was like all the power he had was drained. Or maybe it was just the fact that thinking about escaping was getting harder..
Something hard pushed its way into his mouth,and he desperately tried to spit it out. It was relentless however,so it simply continued to venture deeper into his mouth. Zhongli gagged when it hit the back of his throat,tears springing up in he eyes. The thing didn't care for his discomfort,and soon the former archon felt a cool,thick,slimy substance slide down his throat.
All too quick,his body felt as if it was in searing heat. Sweat formed on his forehead as he panted. He hardly noticed that his cocks had become fully erect,straining his pants. It came to the forefront ot his mind as it became increasingly uncomfortable. Two thin vines came and pulled off his jacket,letting it fall to a heap on the floor below. They then began work on his suit,finishing much quicker than Zhongli anticipated. It joined his jacket on the floor.
The very second his chest was bare and exposed,more thin vines came,rubbing his stomach with light touches that made him shiver. They trailed up his body,tracing his arolea and flicking over his nipples,causing him to let out a quite embarrassing moan. He was trying hard to escape,but the fire hot pleasure he was feeling was making him so weak...
There was a pressure in his backside,and his eyes rolled to the back of his head as a thick vine pushed into his hole. A wanton moan escaped hid lips. The soft,malleable thorns of the vine tickled his walls on a way that made him gyrate his hips and whine with tears in his eyes. When it hit his prostate,he fell limp as he came hard.
The vines continued even after he came,fucking him hard and fast. He moaned and cried,squirming desperately as he desperately tried to get away from the overstimulation.
Another vine came to touch the head of his sensitive cock,and he yelped as tears once again gathered in his eyes. He couldn't decide whether to buck into it or buck away from it as another splash of white hot pleasure-pain rocketed through him,causing him to orgasm once again.
He squeezed around the vine,just as he felt a thick,warm substance empty from the vine into his hole. He whined as it slipped out,and the other vines let him slump gently to the floor. He watched through blearly,half lidded eyes as the plant returned to normal,as if like magic.
When he awoke,the first he thought to do was get rid of the wretched plant. But the words of his God came back to him. "This plant here is one I made specifically for you,my most loyal follower. I ask that you please take care of it." His God had made it for him specifically. It would be blasphemous to throw it away. So he let it stay. Let it have it's way with him every night.
Little did he know,that that was just what you wanted,as you watched from the shadows every night.
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Text
OP characters
Would they let you paint their nails?
(Only MILDLY suggestive for Shanks...because yknow...its shanks)
Luffy!
You can absolutely try! He's not against it but this boy will most definitely run off about two fingers in
His color of choice was a ruby red that was supposed to get a coat of silver glitter, sadly you did not make it that far
The few fingers you did get done are completely back to normal within a day from a mixture of picking and chewing at them unconsciously
Sanji!
Is absolutely enthusiastic that you asked him! Tells you to choose whatever color you love the most so he has a constant reminder of you
Most definitely gets a nose bleed the moment you touch his hand, but other than that he sits patiently
Takes extra care in the kitchen to not damage said nails, if they flake off over time he will ask you to fix them for him
Zoro!
Definitely not overly enthusiastic about it but will begrudgingly agree after an idea hits his 2 working brain cells
He will get you to paint his two middle fingers a lime green, and will exclusively use this opportunity to flip Sanji off any chance he gets
Does not last long though within a week all the polish has chipped off
Nami!
100% down, she will request to paint yours as well afterwards
The two of you will be rocking a cute tangerine orange, every couple weeks you two will sit and touch them up again together
Brook!
He will absolutely crack a bone joke about how he does not have nails to paint
Will let you paint the tips of his boney fingers though, he would ask for a shade of blue that reminds him of his dear friend Laboon
Shockingly with a protective coat the polish stays wonderfully for many werks
Robin!
Another who is very happily down and requests to do the same for you! She will make a whole event of the time, tea, and some light reading in-between coats drying
If this becomes a regular ocurance she will mix up colors between dark violet shades and deeper pinks
Jinbe!
This man is not quite sure what you are asking of him but agrees with a hearty chuckle
When you ask him to pick a color he will ask for dealers choice, he does not particularly care about the polish but enjoys the way your face lights up when he agrees
Sadly does not last long on him ask with so much swimming it is bound to break down quickly
Ussop!
Beyond down! Another to make a whole event of the time, hair, face mask, and nails
Paint his nails while he tells you beyond Preposterous stories, the self care will be going both ways that night and by the end both party's will be refreshed
He would choose a forest green and after it drys attempt to do little designs of vines and flowers on them, to a somewhat success
Kid!
You would not even have to ask, this man would run out of his own polish and ask if you had any
A bit annoyed when you ask to paint them for him but agrees under the terms that he can make the two of you match
This man is red all the way, the more like fresh blood the better, will let you once in a while spice it up with painting his middle fingers black
Killer!
God he really did not want to at first but he is a softy and will agree after he sees your disipointment
At first he thought about matching with his captain but quickly decided against that settling on a deep ocean blue
With the amount of fighting this man gets up too it does not last long, but once a week will go to you to have them fixed up
Heat!
Obsessed with the idea! Another to have an entire self care night with you
Will pick a deep firey orange with a lighter orange glitter on top, has you help fix up his dreads as each coat drys, he struggles with the ones behind his head so that where your main focus will be
Afterwards will do the same back for you choosing for your nails to half match his, instead having a sparkly blue on top
This will become a regular occurrence
Wire!
Loves the idea, he's a man of few words so things you can do together that do not put pressure on talking are his favoites
He would wants a darker purple as to complement his outfit, after you finish he would place his hand out and after a moment of confusion you'd understand this him offering to do the same for you!
He takes great care of his nails but fighting takes its damage on them, when they get too bad he will simply approach you and hold out his hand to show how chipped they are, you get the message and fix them up for him
Law!
Absolutely! ...not...
He rejects it flat out multiple times and after so long you just stop asking...
That is until one night all the crew was drinking and celebrating their latest victory, after several too many drinks he approaches you, definitely even in his intoxicated state finds himself struggling with his words to request what he wants
After a while of anxiously waiting for the captain to tell you what he wants he simply asks you to follow him, assuming you are in trouble you are shocked to find him request such a silly thing
Happily you lead him to your chambers digging around in your bag you pull out a matte black polish
The next morning he wakes with a ragging hangover on top of the shock of his nails now painted, wants to be angry but knows it looks damn good, continues to take damn good care of them as well
Penguin! & Shachi!
Okay if you ask one they will not only agree immediately but also drag the other along
Unshocking this will not be an easy endeavor, it starts off strong with the two of them dumping out every color you own digging though struggling to choose a color
Eventually they will settle on a color each, penguin having picked and icey blue and Shaci with an almost neon orange, they request you do every other finger with each color
After you finish up they do the same for you each boy taking a hand, it starts off fine but quickly turns into the two insulting each other over how messy they paint, it turns into a competition of who can paint better
Bepo!
Often you find yourself napping and relaxing with Bepo so after a while of this you mentioned the idea of painting the polar bear's claws
He is absolutely giggling and squealing at the idea, quickly requesting for the most fun color you could think of, this boy wants glitter and do not cheap out! A light icy blue base with as many rainbow sparkle coats you can muster up
He will treasure them and keep them as safe as he can but will come to you with tears in his eyes as they peel off, give this boy a huge and fix them up for him!!
Shanks!
Absolutely will but requests you sit on his lap as you do it, this man will use any sneaky trick to get what he wants but as long as you both are happy he's winning
Wants a shade of red that matches his hair, once you finish up his hand he will ask you to do the other hand, out of pure Instinct you look towards where his other hand would be as he lets out a deep vibracious laugh poking fun at you for the rest of the night
Mihawk!
We'll say no the first time you ask but if you mentioned it a few times he will eventually give in requesting the most simple soild black you can find
After you finish them he takes a moment staring at them before nodding at you and sending you on your way
Over the next few days you'll notice anytime he walks by a mirror to straighten up his outfit he will take a moment to appreciate the nails and how well they complement his look, he may not want to admit it but you can tell he is feeling himself up
Will eventually ask you to fix them up over time as he says he's grown fond of them
Writers note!
Thank you reading! Requests are open for headcanons, fics, and really just about anything!
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misshoneyimhome · 2 months
Note
Can you do willy x intern! Where maybe they fight and intern goes on vacay. Girls weekend Where she is bratty and posts a ton of thirst traps to her open insta.... ignoring willy..
Hot ass jealous sex... William riled up and furious. Maybe texting her.... "take that shit down.."
Oh, my love 🤍 Well, of course, I can - or at least I attempted 😉 I'm not the greatest at writing angsty fights 🙃 But it might have turned out alright -
Nevertheless, I still hope you find it enjoyable 🤍
Also, please see this request 🖋️🔥
[In case you don't know - "Nobody puts Baby in the corner." is from Dirty Dancing (only one of the greatest movies of all time) 🤍]
Warnings: curse words; semi-public dry-humping; penetrative sex (p in v); pinning; dom!Willy, i guess;
Word count; 6k
「Intern x Willy」 ;
・✶ 。゚
I see this life, like a swinging vine I William Nylander 🖋️⚡️ [intern x Willy]
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Two days had passed since the gala, and the team was already on their way to their next away game in Winnipeg.
With their bags packed and the bus filled with players, coaches, and a small media team of three, they were all set to hit the road. And it was going to be a long journey.
Usually, the team would have opted for a two-hour flight, but since Project Planet Green had been a significant topic during the gala, someone in management thought it would be a good idea for the Leafs to set an example for the cause of the environment. Which meant enduring a 20-hour bus ride instead of flying to minimise carbon emissions.
Needless to say, nobody was enthusiastic about the idea. But since MLSE had made the decision, the team had to comply.
At the beginning of the journey, you had taken a seat next to Melanie at the front, with Jennifer sitting across the aisle. However, as the conversation gradually shifted from work to more personal topics, seating arrangements seemed to change, and Melanie ended up joining Jennifer instead, leaving you alone.
Which you didn't really mind. In fact, you just took the opportunity to relax and listen to the cheers and laughter coming from the boys in the rows behind you and the coaches.
And with nobody beside you, you could finally check the messages that William had been sending throughout the ride, teasing you intentionally since you couldn't read them in front of Melanie. And you were right; the cheeky lad back there seemed to have been texting a few ideas of what the two of you could do once you reached the hotel.
You bit your lip as you read his messages, thoughts forming in your mind and a smile creeping onto your lips. You were definitely looking forward to reaching your destination.
But then, just as your mind was preoccupied, Auston's voice suddenly echoed through the bus.
"Oh, hey y/n, come join the fun!"
You glanced back at the group, Auston's mischievous grin peeping through and meeting your gaze.
"Yeah, don't be such a downer," Mitch chimed in with a laugh, and you couldn't help but chuckle too.
"Alright."
With a small sigh, you decided to do just that and made your way down the aisle of the bus. However, as you approached the boys, it seemed there was no available seat for you. Looking around, perhaps a bit puzzled, Auston flashed another mischievous grin.
"You know, you can always sit on Willy's lap.”
You hesitated at first, not wanting to attract unnecessary attention from the coaches, but when you saw they were deeply engrossed in discussions about game strategies, you turned to face William. His handsome Swedish face bore a content smirk as he sat by the window next to Timothy.
"Well, why not?" you chuckled lightly, then made your way to sit in your boyfriend's lap. It was a slightly awkward position; you were half sitting close to his groin and half on one thigh.
"Comfortable?" he asked in a low voice behind you, his hands finding your hips for support.
"Mm," you nodded, ensuring you didn't accidentally kick or touch Timmy inappropriately.
And for a little while longer, you simply enjoyed William's subtle touches, along with the laughter, cheesy jokes, and stories coming from the players.
The team was rather excited about tomorrow's match, especially since they had just won against the Jets on home turf. However, as they hadn't been entirely satisfied with the result, they now saw an opportunity to do even better.
Then amidst the sounds of great excitement and anticipation, you suddenly felt the bus hit a few bumps on the road, causing you to bounce slightly in William's lap.
"Oops," you chuckled, feeling his grip on you tighten a bit.
"Easy, babe," he spoke softly, almost in a hushed whisper so no one could overhear. "Wouldn't want you to cause a scene."
You couldn't suppress a light smirk as his voice echoed in your ear. Yet you also recalled the last time you were on the plane, and he had been the one to stir up something naughty.
"Oh, you're one to talk, considering you wanted to join the mile high club last time," you turned your head slightly, just enough to meet his eyes, and flashed him a small smirk.
"Well, that was different," he defended with a grin.
"How so?"
"That was my idea," his hand around your waist tightened just a little as you felt his chest against your back.
You simply laughed at his cheeky remark, though it did ignite a tiny devil within you. And as the bus ride continued and William seemed engrossed in the boyish chatter, you felt tempted to play with fire a little.
With Timothy’s attention turned toward the other lads, you gently and very subtly began grinding your buttocks against William's groin.
"What are you doing, baby?" His voice came out in a husky whisper.
"Hmm, don't know, maybe I'm just... getting comfortable," you spoke with a grin, not even looking at him. Instead, you focused on the ongoing conversation while letting your hips sway a little extra.
"I think you're doing just fine..."
"Hm, maybe."
You knew you were teasing him, just as he always teased you when you were around the team and had to maintain some distance. Just like he was with his suggestive messages.
William couldn't help but force a casual smile as his member slowly grew under your sensual motions. An increasing need for more than just light grinding began to form within him.
And you knew your plan was working when you heard his heavy breathing and subtle grunts escaping his lips. His fingers dug into your hips, and his bulge pressed against you.
"Not fair..." he murmured softly, his thigh muscles clenching underneath you as his member pressed against the fabric of his boxers and sweats.
"Well, maybe that's just payback for you sending me those messages..." you remarked flirtatiously, giving your hips a little extra sway as the bus picked up speed on the highway.
"Oh, those were just for when we get to the hotel, but it seems we need to change things up a bit now," he grinned against your ear, giving you a teasing hip thrust back.
"Bring it on, Nylander."
**
Despite both of you being worked up from the teasing - almost having to sneak off for a quickie during one of the pit stops - the little sleep you got on the bus didn’t leave you with much energy for a round of sex at the hotel. 
And soon, you found yourselves preparing for the upcoming match for the night. Fortunately, this match held a little more excitement and goals this time. More importantly, the Leafs won 4-2.
However, just as you were finishing up after the match with David and Peter, Brad suddenly interrupted and pulled you aside. Surprised by his sudden action, you feared that he'd decided to report you and William, potentially putting your relationship in jeopardy.
But when he sat before you in the physio room, providing a bit of privacy, his message was different.
"Miss y/l/n," he said in a calm tone, which eased your nerves a bit, though you still couldn't entirely decipher his expression. "We've discussed matters within the management team, and considering the upcoming All-Star event next weekend, we think it might be beneficial for you to take a few days off before the big weekend."
You were baffled. You'd been working tirelessly for the past weeks for this event, and now they were suggesting days off? That was a little unlike them. But then he continued.
"We understand that you've played a significant role in the planning and coordination, which we greatly appreciate. That's precisely why we want to ensure you have all the energy you need for the event. Your presence will be crucial, and we're committed to taking care of our staff to prevent burnout. You've consistently shown dedication, even joining road trips without notice. It's only fair that you have proper rest."
Stunned by the suggestion, you were also extremely grateful. It was something you had needed for weeks, if not months. Especially considering the many invitations from your girlfriends that you had had to turn down, this would be an excellent opportunity to catch up with some of them.
"Oh, well, thank you! That's very much appreciated," you flashed Brad a grateful smile before wrapping up the conversation. 
You couldn't wait to rush back to the hotel and tell William, however, when you finally finished up at the Bell MTS Place, he was already fast asleep in bed, not up for anything intimate.
At least not until you returned from the road trip. As soon as you were back in Toronto on Sunday, you couldn't keep your hands off each other the moment you entered William's condo. It was almost frantic, as if you couldn't strip down fast enough or touch each other enough. You wanted to feel every inch of skin, exploring each other fully, with your mouths connected at all times.
In the soft glow of the bedroom's dimmed lights, William made love to you. It wasn't the tender, gentle lovemaking, but rather passionate and intense. His movements were firm and determined, yet he ensured you reached climax at least twice before focusing on his own pleasure.
And it didn't take long for him to reach the brink of climax.
It was almost amusing how quickly William could reach his peak but considering the teasing and anticipation between you during the short trip, it was understandable.
And it was nothing short of perfect, and soon you found yourselves entwined in each other's arms, sharing heartfelt conversation as you enjoyed a post-sex bath. Completely relaxed and utterly satisfied, you leaned against his chest, your head resting slightly on him as he tenderly caressed your body beneath the warm water.
"Mmm, I love you," he mumbled into your damp hair, eliciting a smile from your lips.
"I love you too, Willy," you replied softly, attempting to turn in his embrace to meet his eyes. "I just can't believe I won't see you for a few days," you added with a crooked smile. However, William lifted an eyebrow at your remark.
"What do you mean? You know you can stay here even though you're off from work," he emphasised, his tone a bit firmer than you'd like.
"Yeah, I know, but I also feel like it's good to have time to catch up with my girls, so I'm not even sure if I'll be around much," you tried to explain, maintaining a soft tone. However, you were only met with a ‘hm’ and a huff from your boyfriend behind you as he finished the bath in silence.
And after getting dried up and dressed in an oversized t-shirt, you joined William in his kitchen where he was already searching for late-night snacks, clad in his boxers.
"Willy, what's wrong?" you inquired, sensing his mood shift from happy and calm to suddenly irritated.
"Nothing," he replied tersely, moving around the kitchen as if nothing was amiss. But he didn't have you convinced for a moment.
"Babe, clearly something's bothering you... and I want you to share it with me. You need to communicate your thoughts, otherwise, I can't do anything about it," your voice took on a sterner and more confident tone as you stood with crossed arms facing him. And finally, William turned to meet your gaze, letting out a deep sigh.
"I just don't understand why you suddenly have to go away," he admitted. "I mean, we finally have a few days off, so why can't you just stay here?"
His words surprised you slightly. Why was he suddenly so insistent on keeping you around?
"Because I spend literally every day with you," you tried to reason.
"Yeah, but that's with the team," William's voice suddenly rose in volume.
"Not always!" you defended. "When I'm not at work, I'm here, at YOUR place, together with YOU," you pointed out.
"For a few hours, maybe! But then either of us always has to work. We eat, sleep, fuck, and work. That's all we do."
"Because that's how our lives are! You chose your career, and I've chosen mine... We both knew this is how it would be, Willy..."
"Don't you think I know that?" he shouted.
"Then what's this about all of a sudden?"
You were baffled. Never before had you had an argument with Willy like this – perhaps only the time he got jealous when you dated someone else, but that was a long time ago, and now you were in a committed relationship.
"I just don't want you to go around and risk doing something stupid – if you haven't noticed, you've been getting quite a lot of attention lately!"
"So that's what this is all about?" you huffed sarcastically, amused. "Me getting attention? That's what you're so upset about."
"I'm not upset that you're getting attention, y/n!"
"Then what is your problem? I'm finally being recognised for being great at my job, and you're just being jealous instead of supportive!"
"I am supporting you! You just don't know how to handle the media. You're not trained for it."
"Oh, so now I'm NOT good at my job, is that what you're saying?"
"I'm not... that's not what I'm saying!"
"Then what are you saying? That I'm just your stupid little girlfriend, who's not allowed to be out in public because YOU'RE too afraid that I'll get too much attention, huh?"
You felt the tears pressing on, and though you did everything to hold them back, you couldn't. You were too angry and frustrated by his sudden need to start a fight. An unnecessary fight, in your opinion.
"Well, yeah, maybe I am!" he spat. "Because if you're going to act like a wild child with your girlfriends, knowing that people are interested in you, then YES, you are stupid..."
"Oh, wow...wow, Willy, that's mature! Who even says I'm going to act out? And for the record, you shouldn't really be the one to act all smart and reasonable, since you're the one who's out partying every fucking off-season, sticking your cock into every pulsating vagina you can find!"
You knew it was a low blow as soon as you said it, but it wasn't entirely a lie. Yet your comment struck a sensitive nerve within William, a nerve he most likely didn't even know he had, and suddenly it was like his entire world collapsed.
"Fine! If that's what you want, then don't let me hold you back! Like I always fucking do, right? Go out and have fun with your fucking girlfriends. I don't even give a shit anymore!"
His hand slammed on the kitchen counter, his breaths heavy as he leaned over and didn't even bother to look you in the eyes.
You couldn't help but feel your heart break a little. His carelessness about your need for freedom and a little time away from the hectic life you had. 
You felt as if you'd been beaten all over by William, as if your body was covered in invisible bruises. Your heart split in half and all senses of emotions torn apart, you let the tears stream freely down your cheeks.
"Fine..." you whispered dryly under your breath, not even trying to hold back the crying as you walked away from him, heading straight to the bedroom and bathroom to collect your belongings. Throwing your bag over your shoulder, you put on your coat and shoes, leaving William on his own.
As you waited for the lift, a small part of you hoped for him to come running and apologise for the fight. But as you heard the ding, signalling the lift's arrival, and you descended to the ground floor before exiting the apartment building, he never showed. He had let you leave in silence, not even trying to stop you. And now you were on your way back to your own place.
Still frozen in his position, William let the situation replay in his mind. Was this it? Had he lost you? Just like he'd lost every girl who ever came near him. Yet a part of him wasn't entirely ready to let you go. His heart belonged to you; he couldn't deny that. And as he stood there in his kitchen, he couldn't help but feel a wave of regret wash over him.
But was it too late?
**
Two days later, you didn't feel much better.
Despite Clara's best efforts to cheer you up with a spontaneous girl spa trip, you couldn't fill the void the fight with William had left in your heart. Or at least where your heart used to be.
As you'd stormed away from his place, you immediately contacted Clara, one of your closest girlfriends. Clara was the one to turn to when you needed your mind distracted. Always the funny, spontaneous one, who often followed her intuition and never cared about what others thought of her.
You often admired her for it. The way she could act so freely and down-to-earth inspired you, especially considering your penchant for planning and organising. Which served you well in your job, but in your social life, it had always been a challenge, especially after starting the internship.
Clara had always been the one to invite you to various events – girls' night out, weekend trips, and more – and you'd often have to turn them down. So, when you were suddenly the one to reach out to her, she immediately dropped everything and quickly arranged this little spa trip with two other girls. That was just the way she was.
And it hadn't been a bad idea at all. In fact, you were quite enjoying yourself, far away from the hockey arena and the players. Yet, your mind couldn’t help but occasionally drift to William and the fight, something that still tied knots in your stomach.
"Hey," Clara spoke, snapping her fingers in front of your face as you lay by the indoor pool, enjoying the view of the breath-taking Canadian nature. "Whoever is on your mind, you need to forget about them."
"How did you-"
"Oh, I'm reading you like an open book, babe! Come on... I know you can't tell me who it is, but you've got to get over whatever happened," she said, sitting upright and turning to face you. "He might be amazing and great in bed, but you're an amazing woman too – and he does not get to tell you otherwise!"
Another thing about Clara: she didn't let any man control her life, maybe besides her father, but that was only because he had had the money until she got her own business up and running. But now, her face would be right next to the words "independent, strong woman" if you ever looked it up.
Letting out a sigh, you faced her as well. "I know, it's just... we had a fight, and... in a way, I feel guilty because I know I love him. I just – I need space sometimes. To be myself and not have to worry about what he thinks," you tried to explain, not wanting to come off too annoyed with William, even though he had pushed you over the edge.
"Well, then how about we show him exactly what he's missing?"
"Oh... you've got that look," you chuckled lightly, studying Clara's mischievous expression.
"What look?" she asked, feigning innocence.
"That look where you've got an idea, and I know it's trouble."
"Well, of course it's trouble! Have you met me? Come on, let's go have some fun."
With that, Clara grabbed your hand, and on the way to the hotel room, she ordered a bottle of Champagne. She turned on the speakers and put on a playlist filled with the greatest tunes from female artists throughout the centuries. Then dancing around in your bikinis, silky robes, clinging glasses, and pouring down the finest bubbles, you couldn't help but pose and strut as the girls snapped photos of each other.
It was a truly memorable time, just four girls hanging out, letting you completely recharge before the big All-Star weekend. And more importantly, not thinking about William.
Instead, you decided to dress up nicely, going all out on hair and makeup before a lovely dinner at the restaurant. And amidst girl talk and glamour, you couldn't resist taking a few more shots of how gorgeous you looked. 
And tonight, you weren't working or surrounded by the hockey team. Tonight, you were y/n fucking y/l/n, and no one was going to keep you down.
After a couple more glasses of wine and an incredible four-course dinner, you felt a certain temptation to play a little with fire. Feeling a little too cocky, perhaps, and naturally encouraged by the girls, you decided to show your Instagram followers just how great you could look. In a bikini, in a towel, a tight dress – with the quote: "Nobody puts Baby in the corner." And as soon as you pressed post, the photos were out for the world to see.
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Needless to say, it didn't take long before likes and comments flooded your Instagram: flirtatious messages, some even wanting to buy pictures from you, and more.
But what really stood out was the text you received from William about an hour later.
"Are you crazy? You can't post that, babe!"
Ah, so this was how you got his attention. He could ignore you after a fight, letting you walk away, but as soon as you showed a little skin on social media, he suddenly responded quickly. But you didn't feel like dealing with him right now. You were enjoying your time away, feeling satisfied with the pictures of yourself.
But William didn't let it go.
"Take that shit down! Now!" he persisted.
You tried your best to ignore him, focusing on your girls instead. But he wasn't having it.
"If this is just to get me mad and jealous, it's working, baby. OK!?"
You could feel a little smirk slowly creeping onto your lips, a sense of satisfaction at how you'd gotten him down on his knees. Yet a slight pang, just a small one, of regret also struck your heart.
You didn't truly want to upset William like that. All you wanted was for him to understand that you were your own person, not just an intern working tirelessly day and night to keep the hockey team and their managers happy.
And maybe, just maybe, it was also the fact that you had to keep your relationship a secret that challenged you both in many ways. But it was the relationship you both had chosen, and though it wasn't easy, you couldn't ignore the fact that you did love him.
Of course, you did. But for now, you were still mad at William and decided not to respond immediately. Instead, you ignored him, posted a few more photos of your girls' trip, before you turned your focus back to Toronto.
**
As soon as you were back in the city, you finally felt ready to reply to William's texts.
But not to apologise. Not yet, at least.
"Sorry babe, but you're not the boss of me."
You knew it was a risky message to send. For one, you didn’t know if William was still angry, and maybe this kind of text could push him to end things. And two, it could also push William to do something unexpected. Much like the time he fucked you against his window, or the time he got jealous because you went on a date with another guy, or on New Year's when he fucked you in the bathroom even though his team was around, or the latest incident at the MLSE Gala Event when he fucked you in the wardrobe. William definitely had the audacity to act impulsively.
"Get to my place when you're back. Need to talk to you."
And. you couldn't help but roll your eyes at the message.
"Only if you ask nicely," you simply replied.
"This is me asking nicely.” 
"Well, that's not good enough."
Though you felt content about standing your ground and not letting him dictate what you should do, you couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit of sadness. You truly didn't want things to end like this, but you were also convinced that you didn’t need to apologise for anything. You were a strong and independent woman, and he needed to realise that.
But as you were unpacking and tidying up your place to prepare for another hectic work week, you were suddenly interrupted by a forceful knock on your door.
Maybe Clara had forgotten to give you something?
But it wasn't Clara. As soon as you unlocked the door, it was forced open by none other than William. Without hesitation, he walked straight past you and into your living space. His tense body language exuded nothing but annoyance, and his facial expression lacked any hint of a smile.
"Willy! You can't just barge in here like that," you told him with as much confidence as you could muster, closing the door behind you. "I can't do this again right now."
"Well, you have to," he spoke back firmly, turning to face you. He wasn't exactly angry, he wasn't shouting, but he held a stern facial expression, and you knew you had to meet his strong composure. "Because I'm not okay with what you did on that trip."
"Well, I don't care. I did what I did, alright? Get over it!"
"You know I can't do that," he took a step closer to you, standing so close that you could almost hear his heart pounding in his chest. "You did exactly what I said you would... something stupid. Don't you know that everyone can see what you posted? And how the media will react."
"Of course, I know that, Willy. I'm not an idiot!"
"Then why are you acting like one?"
"I don't know!" you suddenly heard yourself admit, completely out of breath. "Maybe I just felt like it – maybe I just wanted to show that I was more than just some stupid little intern that nobody takes seriously."
William's expression frowned a little, and then his voice rose. "You don't think anybody takes you seriously? y/n, you have the entire world in front of you, and you're ruining it for yourself. Everyone admires you, compliments your work every single day. You could go anywhere after this; do you even know that?"
"Oh no, don't you dare make this about me and my career, when we both know that you're just pissed because I posted those photos, and you got all jealous."
"Of course, I got jealous!"
"Then just fucking trust me!” 
As if that was the last button you could press, William suddenly used his size to his leverage, guiding you to step backward until your back met the door. And then he clashed his lips onto yours, his hands holding your face as he pulled you close to him.
And though you tried to push him away, trying to catch your breath, William just pulled you back in again. Eager to have his tongue taste yours, he bit down on your lower lip and forced it to enter, past your lips and into your warmth.
It was sloppy and messy, yet passionate. You could feel how much he desired to have you close to him, and though you tried to convince your mind that you wanted him to let go, you failed. Instead, almost instinctively, you wrapped your hands around his neck, welcoming his embrace and the taste of his tongue on yours.
William's hands moved to support himself against the door, with a hand on either side of your head, as the intensity of the kiss increased. Air was stolen from your lungs, as his mouth hungrily exploring yours as if he had been starved for days.
And so had you. Though you had been angry with him, furious about the way he had acted, you immediately fell under his spell again. Feeling the warmth of him so near had you once more surrendering to his love.
Breaking the kiss, both of you breathed heavily, and William rested his forehead against yours. "So, you don’t think I’m the boss of you?" he inquired darkly, prompting you to look intensely up at him, biting your lip, and gently shake your head.
Flashbacks of your first night together at this place coursed through your mind as that had been another time when William had acted out of jealousy, and you were beyond intrigued to find out what he had in mind for you this time.
You couldn’t even think twice before he hoisted you into his arms and carried you to the bed, where he not so carefully dropped you. Clothes were quickly discarded from your body, as William had no intention of spending much time on that part, and shortly you found yourself fully naked in front of him.
His eyes stared intensely down at you as he stood before the bed, taking in every inch of you, only breaking his gaze when he pulled his shirt over his head. His baggy jeans followed suit, and you had to do your best to control your breath as you followed his every move.
You could see how his member must be throbbing, tucked away in his boxers as he knelt onto the mattress between your legs, leaning over and once again connecting your lips, pushing you down.
William asserted his dominance, pinning your hands firmly down beside your head as he pressed his hardness against your eager core.
"Fuck, baby," he murmured huskily in your ear. "I can feel how wet you are through my boxers."
"Yes, Willy," you moaned softly. "I'm dripping for you..."
Your voice, though strong, betrayed your neediness, signalling your readiness to be taken.
You were almost surprised by how quickly he had changed your mind, but not entirely. The moment his lips met yours again, you remembered exactly why you loved him, and you didn't care what anyone else thought anymore.
Then breaking the kiss, William left you breathless once more as he shed his last piece of clothing, returning to you in missionary position. He guided your hands above your head, intertwining your fingers as the tip of his cock teased your entrance.
"Say you're mine..."
"I'm all yours."
With one forceful thrust, William buried himself deep inside you, eliciting a loud moan from your lips. Pulling back almost entirely, he then plunged back in, creating a loud slap of skin meeting skin.
"Damn right," he muttered, picking up the pace, his hips rocking and driving into you with determination. Instinctively, your legs wrapped around his hips, granting him better access.
You lost yourself in the intensity of his thrusts, your moans escaping you uncontrollably as he pounded into you with a rapid rhythm. It was both forceful and passionate, William showing you just how much he craved you, relishing in the sound of your incoherent cries. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, bringing you closer to the edge.
"Oh, Willy, fuck... feels so good," you moaned, feeling your orgasm building.
But then, he pulled back, releasing your hands and placing your calves on his shoulders before leaning over and driving back into you, hitting your deepest spots with precision. Your hands found his strong arms, gripping tightly as he continued his relentless assault, thrusting hard and fast, almost overstimulating you with pleasure as you cried out in ecstasy.
"Oh, Willy... I'm gonna come..." you practically screamed as he showed no signs of slowing down, your nails digging into his skin.
"Fuck, come for me, baby!" he urged, his words lost in the cacophony of skin slapping against skin.
And with his encouragement, you let out a loud cry, your head falling back into the pillow as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Your screams filled the room as he ruthlessly fucked you through your intense orgasm, your juices soaking the sheets beneath you.
Then as he released your legs from his shoulders, he leaned down to your neck, his hand finding your throat to put a light pressure on. And his breath was hot against your skin as he murmured between moans. "That's it, baby..."
"Yes," you breathed out, feeling yourself surrendering completely to the moment of passionate rough sex. Sweat coated his skin as he continued his vigorous movements, lost in the heat of the moment.
"I want to tell the fucking world that you're mine, baby... only mine."
In the haze of pleasure, your overstimulated brain struggled to grasp every sensation as you were overwhelmed by yet another orgasm, and your lips moved instinctively to respond to William's words. "Yes, Willy... tell them."
Feeling the tightness of your muscles around him, William let out a deep grunt as he surrendered to his own climax. Without warning, he released his cum inside you, his hips rocking a few more times to ensure he emptied himself completely, before finally stilling.
For a moment, you both remained still, allowing yourselves to catch your breath and regain your strength. William could feel your cunt pulsating around his cock, your shared wetness between you a testament to the intensity of your encounter.
It was hot. Messy and hot. 
The air felt heavy in the little space of your home, as you looked deeply into each other’s eyes and silently found comfort. You lingered with him inside you a little longer, running your fingers through his thick, sticky hair before offering a shy smile.
"I'm sorry," you managed to say, the words carrying more weight than you had anticipated. William's response was immediate.
"Me too, baby... I'm so sorry," he echoed, his sincerity evident in his voice.
It felt necessary for both of you to vocalise your regrets, acknowledging where you stood with each other. Yet, there was still a sense that more needed to be discussed.
After William withdrew from you slowly and you both quickly cleaned up, you returned to the bed and nestled under the duvet. Resting your head on his chest, you traced gentle patterns on his skin with your fingertips.
"I meant what I said," he suddenly spoke, breaking the silence. "I want to tell everyone."
You regarded him intensely, unsure of how to react as you processed his words. But before you could respond, he continued.
“I’m not sure I can do this, y/n… I hate myself for feeling this way, but all I want is to show how much I love you.”
His gaze drifted away from you as he spoke, his eyes fixating on the ceiling before returning to meet yours.
You stretched out your arms, observing the beautiful man beneath you. “I know you love me, Willy. You don’t have to shout it to the world for me to hear you,” you whispered softly.
His thumb traced gentle circles on your arm as he attempted to speak again, but then something unexpected happened. A solitary tear escaped from the corner of his eye. “I just don’t want to lose you.”
Though his voice remained steady, his eyes betrayed his vulnerability.
“You’ll never lose me, Willy,” you reassured him, leaning in to place a tender kiss on his lips. “Not to anyone. No matter what.”
He took a deep breath as he gazed into your eyes, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
“Seems like you were right…” he finally managed to form a light smile. “I’ll never be the boss of you, baby, because you’ll always have the power over me. Whether I like it or not.”
You couldn’t help but return his soft smile.
“Well, then I suppose I should use this power for good rather than evil,” you chuckled lightly. “I love you, Willy.”
It was the perfect ending to a situation you had hoped would never happen. Yet, in a way, it also felt as if it had brought you both much closer.
180 notes · View notes
shadesofecclescakes · 1 month
Note
Are you a big fanfic reader? What have you read lately and what's been your favourite fic so far?
Oh mannnnnnnnn. Why don't you ask me to pick a favourite child while you're at it???
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Just kidding. I don't have kids. But I assume having to pick a favourite would be hard if I did.
So, am I a big fanfic reader? YES. And what haven't I read lately? We are lucky enough to have so many talented writers in this fandom that it's possible to subscribe to numerous multi-chapter fics to the point where you're just constantly getting update emails. Which I do. It's great. It gives me something to do at work aside from, y'know, work.
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*Me at work being smug about being paid to read porn* (Also I just wanted to look at this gif)
So what is currently on my endless update list? Coming up after the cut!
I am an absolute whore for human AU, so if you like that then you will probably like:
The Cure for a Broken Heart by @rofell
a medical student AU based in the Canadian medical system (I'm a Canadian so I was pretty excited about that). It manages to tackle the continued systemic discrimination of Indigenous people in our medical system (and in general), homophobia and the ensuing trauma from those things all while also being informative, funny, sweet, romantic and hot af. Like. It's so good.
Free by @maaikeatthefullmoon
This is another one with with a heavy topic that also does a great job of making sure to break it up with some excellent fluff, hurt/comfort and humorous moments. And it's handled with the sensitivity and thoughtfulness necessary to write something that takes place in a mental health ward and deals with some intense situations. Definitely make sure to read those author notes before diving in. They lay it out very thoroughly.
The Sincere Way by @tsyvia48
A martial arts AU. Crowley is a karate sensei and Aziraphale is his student. Slow burn that keeps you on the edge. The screams I have scrumt at my screen over this one. Plus you learn a lot about karate (but it never gets boring or over-explainey. Excellently balanced) which is pretty cool. Mostly light (there is some angst. This is the Good Omens fandom. I think we are all sad, wet chihuahuas at heart). Funny and sweet.
Terminus by @emotional-support-demon-crowley
Plus One by @caedmonfaith
Astronaut AU. Aziraphale is an astronaut who meets his mission controller, Crowley, over the comms system when he finds himself in need of assistance.
Super cool concept and really well-done in my opinion. Like, I don't do any space or physics-related work (ok I straight-up failed math 9) but I find it entirely believable. And it's well-written which is the entire point. Cute, funny slow burn with an intriguing mystery happening in the background.
Aziraphale has family money but a shitty family (except for Muriel! Never Muriel!) and his shitty brother Gabriel is getting married to shitty Michael, an Earl's daughter.
Aziraphale's family disproves of his entire life pretty much and he has been lying to them about having a boyfriend. Now they are expecting him to bring said boyfriend to the wedding. His famous footballer friend sets him up with their mechanic, Crowley.
It starts as a slow-burn but becomes a hilarious, smutty romp that just gets more and more insane. The chapter titles alone have made me cackle out loud.
Some older human AUs I'm a huge fan of include Old Vines by @sevdrag. Crowley owns a vineyard and Aziraphale is a wine critic. It is so amazingly written. It makes me think of the author Joanna Harris (Chocolat, The Five Quarters of the Orange) because it's SO beautifully, vividly descriptive that I end up craaaaaving wine. So have a bottle on hand if you're giving this a read.
Also the love story in this. My god. I devoured it. The story and the (many bottles of) wine.
There is also Loosely Ballroom by marginalia_device and mortifyingideal. It's a Strictly Come Dancing (Dancing with the Stars in North America) AU and it is so. Fucking. Good.
But it comes with a disclaimer. It's unfinished and looks likely to stay that way. But honestly? Still worth it. It's nearly finished (I think) so you have most of the story. And it's just SO good. It's been a while since I read it but it was one of the first human AUs I read and what got me hooked on them.
If you're still with me...nice! Just know that was me holding back and that isn't my entire list by a long shot. If you want more recs, feel free to message me and also share your own!
I just finished Slow Show the actor AU by @mia-ugly and yes please.
Some serious angst, pining and hot hot smut.
There is another long-form multi-chapter actor au I loooved but I can't remember the name for the life of me. Just that the show they were on was basically good omens and that they swapped roles with great success (inspired by the whole Michael thinking Neil wanted him to play Crowley when he wanted Aziraphale thing).
Thanks for the ask! That was really fun!
134 notes · View notes
blockgamepirate · 3 months
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idk if anyone has done this yet but I just wanted to share close-ups of each of the custom signs Richas, Pomme and Bad made, with individual alt-text descriptions (the descriptions are a bit subjective but I wanted to make them as vivid as I could because I feel like these designs deserve that)
I might include my own feedback in a reblog, to get extra subjective, but the main gist of it would be that these are super cute and much much easier to read.
Note that these are not the final designs! Richas, Pomme and Bad said they're still working on them and asking for feedback, especially in regards to the accessibility aspect.
The same descriptions under a cut, just in case the alt-text doesn't work for some reason:
1:
Pomme's custom canvas sign on a wall. This will be the most detailed description since it's the first: The sign has a wooden frame that surrounds a red canvas. The canvas has a very subtle patchwork like texture and is slightly darker on the edges than in the middle. The text is a slightly transparent white (effectively beige) and reads Pomme in all caps.
The custom texture pack version is a much darker shade of red, which makes the contrast between the text and the background much bigger and thus the text much more readable. The frame is also decorated with a little French flag in the bottom left corner and tree branches with green leaves and apples on the right. The leaves and apples overlap the canvas portion slightly. The overall vibe is very classy and makes you think of a roadsign advertising a French vineyard. Or I guess more like an orchard in this case.
2:
Sunny's custom sign: The colour is a much softer and lighter orange than before, almost more like a warm yellow. The text is black like in all the lighter coloured signs. The frame is decorated with sparkly blue diamonds, a small diamond shaped one in the lower left corner with sparkles almost as big as itself, and one big one in the lower right corner which is in the princess cut shape. The general vibe is like a pre-teen girl's notebook decorated with glittery stickers.
3:
Chayanne's custom sign: The colour is a very soft and pale lemon yellow. The frame is covered in subtle vines on the top and the bottom. In the lower left corner there's a small orange pumpkin among the vines, and in the lower right corner there's a little yellow rubber duckie, also partially covered in vines, which does blend into the background a little bit where it overlaps the yellow canvas. The vibe is very cottagecore but also very childlike, this could be a sign for some kind of family vacation location with cabins and gardens.
4:
Tallulah's custom sign: The colour is medium pink, somewhere between her original pink signs (now used by Pepito) and her current magenta signs. Clearly lighter than the latter, but darker than the former. The frame is decorated with poppies in the lower right corner, and some kind of blue flower, maybe a blue lily, on the lower left corner. One of the blue flowers also sort of peeks into the frame on the right between the poppies, right in the corner. The flowers are of course framed by their leaves, which reach out towards the middle around them. This definitely has the vibe of a sign for a flower garden, probably one maintained by a little old lady who loves pink.
5:
Richarlyson's custom sign: The colour is a deeper indigo blue than his original signs, like deep blue denim. The text colour is the same light beige as Pomme's signs and as all the darker coloured signs. The frame is decorated with a tiny Brazilian flag in the lower right corner, and red-cap mushrooms in the lower left corner. The mushrooms seem to be releasing little white spores into the air, some of which can be seen in the top right corner as well. I can't quite pin down the vibe. There's something a bit fairy tale like, like a storybook maybe. You half expect a little troll creature to show up. But also… random Brazilian flag I guess lol
6:
Empanada's custom sign: The colour seems to be the same soft beige as before, I can't tell if it has changed at all. The frame is covered in golden syrup in the top left corner, which spreads out all over that side of the sign, dripping down in big goopy clumps. It looks delicious and I don't even care that much for syrup. The lower right corner across from it is decorated with white flowers, maybe white cherry blossoms? The flowers are stemless and leafless, just the flower floating over the frame and the canvas. One big one and one small one. There seem to also be small petals floating in the other two corners of the sign, over the canvas. One petal is even floating on the syrup where it drips down on the left. This would definitely be a sign for a small independent bakery.
7:
Ramón's custom sign: The colour is the same white as always, I don't think it has changed at all. The frame is very simply decorated with copper-coloured gears in the lower left and lower right corners, with one particularly big gear on the right side. It doesn't bring any particular vibes to mind but it is cute. The gears look very shiny and it fits Ramón very well. I guess the thing that it most reminds me of is actually Ramón's elevator shaft with its white walls and coppery create machinery.
8:
Dapper's custom sign: The colour is a darker grey than usual, I would honestly call it black rather than grey. The lower edge of the frame is decorated with what looks like darkened blotches of blood, with white ghostly spirits rising out of them towards the left and right edges of the sign, framing the canvas and partially overlapping it. The ghosts are similar to the souls that rise from soulsand in Minecraft but whiter, with only a hint of blue. The vibe is very Halloweeny of course.
9:
Leonarda's custom sign: The colour is a much deeper purple than before, you could even say a more royal purple. In the lower right corner there's a beautiful sparkly cluster of amethysts which are a lighter pinkish lilac colour and which look absolutely gorgeous, just masterful pixel art crystals. There is an amazing sense of depth and transparency in such a minimal resolution. There are also some pinkish sparkles in the lower left corner to balance out the composition a little bit. I don't know how to describe the vibes but it's beautiful. It's like a much classier version of Sunny's sign (not an insult to Sunny's sign, just a neutral description. It's like the cliché of the nouveau riche versus old money. Sunny's gems make you think of glitter stickers, Leo's look like she just happened to place the sign next to an actual cluster of amethysts with perfect artistic composition. Or maybe like she hired a professional painter to decorate each sign.)
(Okay sorry for the rambling, I just can't get over how pretty these amethysts are. Sunny's diamonds are also very pretty but they do look more like stickers to me)
10:
Pepito's custom sign: I think the colour is a softer and lighter pink than the original, it looks like freshly washed baby clothes. The sign is decorated with a tub of popcorn in the lower right corner, with the classic red-and-white design, which sits partly on the frame but mostly overlaps the canvas. Some popcorn seems to have fallen out and is scattered across the lower edge of the sign. There's also a stripe of alternating red and white on the right (over the edge of the canvas rather than on top of the frame itself) which vaguely makes me think of film reel, probably because of the popcorn. I should note that the white and red on both the tub and the "film" are a bit desaturated and dark, technically the white is more like light grey, which gives an effect of shadow and contrast compared to the very light pink canvas which looks very cool. There's also some subtle white flakes across the sides of the canvas; I'm not sure what they're meant to represent. They're very similar to Empanada's petals. The overall effect of the sign is very retro to me. It makes me think of the sixties.
11:
Gegg's custom sign: The colour is a softer version of the lime green of the original sign, and slightly lighter. The canvas is decorated with a little Gegg pixel art sitting in the lower right corner. Otherwise the sign is undecorated, but there's a subtle effect on the canvas itself that makes it look a bit goopier, like there's a thin film of slime over it. And there's a tiny reflection of light in the upper left corner which adds to the wet look. It's very subtle though, it could very easily be missed if you didn't look at the sign closely. The overall vibe is: Gegg
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