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#into talking to my mother-- like i was not almost dead for a long LONG time&she was actively disowning me bc i wasnt sick the right way
imdead770 · 13 hours
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anything for Luke and a daughter of hecate, ANYTHING FOR THEM......
had to do my research for this one
for context Hecate is the goddess of witchcraft, magic, ghosts, stuff like that. There's probably more but that's what I got from my one minute google search
I kept this kind of fluffy because I wanted to switch it up, I hope that's okay! If you want smut feel free to request again 🩷
Enjoy!
Luke didn't known much about your mother, most people didn't. She was one of the smaller goddesses. Well, not small, she just wasn't as well known as Athena or Aphrodite. He had heard her name a few times around camp, not thinking much of it. He didn't pay much attention to the name until he realized your own name was associated with it. Whenever you came to camp, eventually getting claimed by Hecate, he started to do his research. He started listening if one of the counselors talked about her or reading more thoroughly if he saw her name in a book. He wanted to learn more about her for one reason; to get closer to you.
Once he learned more about her, he started seeing the resemblances between the two of you. Your long, silky dark hair was exactly how some book described your mother, as well as your overall beauty. If Hecate hadn't of claimed you, it probably would have been Aphrodite. It also made sense why you and some of the Hades' kids were close, you were all connected to the dead. Another thing that made you alike, you were magical. Something about you almost made him feel as if he was put under some sort of spell. Every time you walked into a room, smiling and laughing, it was as if you enchanted him. Every time he was the cause of your laughter, he would melt, almost as if you had cursed him to fall in love with you.
He didn't know how, but your godly parent eventually came up in a conversation. And God's had he prepared for this moment.
"Yeah, she can control ghosts and magic n' all that, right?"
All of that research was worth it. The way you looked at him, your face holding one of your signature, beautiful smiles.
"Yeah... she can. How'd you know that?"
"Uh... I dunno, I've just always found her interesting."
He managed to get out that excuse, you seemed to believe it. Your smile only grew, sending butterflies into his stomach again.
As the two of you kept talking, your mother fading away and the conversation becoming more natural, he was all smiles. He was smiling for a few reasons. One being that he was proud of himself for being productive and learning about your mother. The main reason, though, was you. How your lips moved when you talked, your sing-songy voice leaving them as you joked around with him. He hadn't realized he was starring until you pointed it out.
"Luke? Are you okay? You're like zoning out or something."
"Hm?"
He forced himself to look away from your gorgeous smile, meeting your eyes. They looked stunning. The light hit them perfectly, giving them a magical glow as if your mother was casting a spell from Olympus. As if she and Aphrodite were cursing him to fall head over heels in love and not have a single say in it. Once again he was zoning out, gazing into your eyes like a lovestruck fool. He could've mustered up another excuse if he kept his mouth shut. That only confirmed his theory of being cursed.
"You have really pretty eyes, yknow.."
Shit. He didn't even mean to say that, the words just left his lips. Your mother must've hated him. He wanted to go and dive off the dock and never come back up for air. He was about to go do so until you spoke again.
"Yeah..?"
Since he had been looking down like a flustered idiot, he hadn't noticed the way your smile grew after his words. He hadn't noticed the way your eyes lit up, nor the way you were blushing yourself. Not as badly as him, but you were still blushing.
"..Yeah."
He looked back up to meet your eyes again, finally noticing how your smile became a grin. He couldn't help but mimic the expression, it was infectious.
He didn't notice how you had scooted closer, bit he did notice how you leaned in. He noticed how your beautiful eyes softly closed, and he especially noticed how your lips met his. It all happened so fast, but Gods.. it was magical.
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dairyfreenugget · 11 days
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(Going insane boinkinh one AU in my head)
Hey hey hey
May I interest you in
(Slowly slides my FaaF AU towards you but void just Disappears without a trace one day before the accolade)
Teehee
#thylacines can talk#faaf au#i love this au very yummy. a very fun twist on how Flower's dynamic with their parents would progress afterwards#the vessels live but the void exits their bodies in quite a violent manner (extreme pain and literally throwing up an entire person worth of#void). Flower was on guard duty and theyre found barely conscious in a pool of rapidly evaporating void. passes out seconds later#PK also had the displeasure of experiencing extene pain and burning as void forced its way out through his skin <3 And his moulds all melted#and evaporated. after the initial shock wears off theyre hit with “Oh No#the vessel“ and rush to find them. Well somebody else was already looking for the royal pair about this#Flower wakes up dazed and in pain in their father's workshop. their stomach hurts their throat burns and they feel lightheaded. the entire#place is considerably brighter than they remember and in they can hear two faint voices in the background but theyre too preoccupied with#examining their now pure white hand in shock to focus on anything else. until they hear their mother say “My wyrm they're awake” and#suddenly their parents are by their side. Now the two have no idea what void leaving their body might have done to them. Are they still#hollow? are they still dead? do they understand anything are they sentient? or was what was done pernament even without the void? do they#have the mind of a child if their sentience was restored? or do they remember anything? So WL stays by their side and helps them sit up#while their father goes to grab his tools. She's trying to keep them calm and comfort them but theyre still too disoriented to pay her much#attention. Until their father checks their breathing and they yelp audibly from the cool metal contacting their skin and suddenly they seem#much more alert. theyve never experienced true coldness before. PK quickly apologises and tries to be gentler with them. Theyre breathing#properly and they have a heartbeat. And he just pauses for a long while just. listening to their heart beating. Many emotions to be had#after the exam's over he asks them point blank how theyre feeling. And Flower looks up at him still seeming a little disoriented. and then#they lower their hand to their stomach and mutter 'My tummy hurts...a-and my throat burns'. It's to be expected after the way the void#left their body. so he goes to grab them some water and meds and they also ask for food and a mirror. And after he returns they just stare#at themself in the mirror and pull on their bangs for a while then blurt out 'I have your eyes' when PK asks if everything's okay. And he#and he almost chokes up as he replies 'Yeah...Yeah you do'. Flower eventually spins a lie that they remember everything but its all distant#and blurry. Like they were not aware until now. They figured it'd be better to not break their hearts#And now the three have to figure out how to be a family while PK is also scrambling to find a new solution to the infection#oops i meant to only give a brief rundown in the tags which is why it was in the tags. but i got too invested KDHDKFB
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jvzebel-x · 8 months
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🦋
#so i got a message from my sister telling me something rather tragic had happened in our family#on my mom's side. one of my aunties passed away&my little sister let me know.#she also let me know that my mother is taking it really hard&shed probably really like to hear from me.#&its weird bc any sadness i felt about my aunty dying almost completely evaporated upon it becoming a way to guilt me#into talking to my mother-- like i was not almost dead for a long LONG time&she was actively disowning me bc i wasnt sick the right way#after a lifetime of refusing to believe i was sick AT ALL which directly lead to developing cancer she screamed at me in public#that i was lying about before pretending to drive off a cliff&then refusing to pick up her phone until she called me an hour later#after i had been calling not just her but anyone in our family who could possibly check on her to tell me that i never loved her#&i wouldnt have cared if she died&it would have been my fault.#so like. i dont really give a fuck if shes taking a death in the family poorly? like i dont actually fucking care that this-- like literally#everything else-- needs to center my mother's bad feelings. i just fucking dont lmao.#&im really fucking pissed off that i now have to feel like shit bc i dont feel like i properly feel bad#about my family member dying bc IT BECAME ALL ABOUT MY MOTHER IMMEDIATELY.#i do not fucking UNDERSTAND.#i cannot even put into words how this all makes me feel lmao. why. literally fucking why.#the cherry on top? my aunty died of gastric issues. you know. the family curse that i def didnt get so i got to work thru it all#while being called a liar. you know the type of illness that almost killed ME. that might STILL kill me.#but yeah my mom is sad so i should call&make sure to hold her hand like i always fucking did lets just forget an entire lifetime#&esp the last five years thatll be totally cool.#a tragedy happened in the family so fuck all MY tragedies actually i guess.
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aquickstart · 4 months
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i need to talk to you guys about the colors of the Cattons (Felix specifically) and Oliver. the clothes they are wearing are telling the story of Oliver taking over and leaving his mark throughout the whole movie, with Oliver's failures and successes and a final triumph. holy shit. get in. this is long and ends in ancient greek culture trivia. let;s talk please.
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disclaimer: am starting from Oliver's arrival at Saltburn. before that the outfits are also very intentional, but it's a lot more complicated and it has been discussed before. the world distorts once we are at Saltburn and the story gets truly gothic there, and every detail—including color!—is enhanced in meaning. also, special thanks to @kivlaro for doing this with me, the thoughts on this specifically and the Saltburn craze on the whole. pics and detailed analysis under the cut!
let's start from the beginning. here is Oliver at the door. simple, blue shirt.
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the shirt is sort of its own character. logically it makes sense as Oliver's suitcase is small and he spends the whole summer there, of course he'll rewear stuff a bunch. but it is blue.
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in contrast to Felix, in yellow. yellow is one of Felix's colors (he is the sun, which i've talked about here btw, so this makes sense).
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same to Pamela, in blue. first time we see her, she is next to Elspeth, wearing the color that is Oliver's, taking the place that he takes right away, in this very scene. the only other time she is physically present on screen is at dinner, in black and white, and black and white are a blank slate. she is stripped of color and gone very fast.
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a bit of crucial data for later: Oliver, in blue, and Felix in pink. pink is very important on Felix. this is their first morning together. they are separate and opposite, solid, contained.
where it starts to get good is the morning after the vampire strike.
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Venetia is a Felix extension, just as everyone in the house is to Oliver. i will eventually rant about Saltburn as a whole entity and Cattons as aspects of one self, and Oliver as psychosis, but not here. so, yes, Venetia is a pink riot, a euphoria of self-containment because Oliver gave her a piece of something she felt she lacked to feel whole (validation, attention, care), not a piece of blue, of himself. Oliver is expectedly solid blue. Felix is incredibly interesting and something i didn't pay much attention to at first: predominantly blue, incredibly upset at Oliver for ditching him, with a tile of bright red (on the left! close to heart! over-reaching here but like still!), which still tracks. i mean, really, if i had so much foreign color bleed into me and then abandoned, i'd be pissed, too. nice little touch is sir James' beloved hydrangeas, behind Felix, also pink, very pink, always pink; i don't think i've seen them blue in the movie, although the sort exists.
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Farleigh. sweet baby Farleigh i love you. I'm not dead-set on my interpretation of this specifically but i think multiple things are happening with Oliver and Farleigh here. like Rent, which is their song, blue is their color of outsiders and the triers to fit in. Farleigh points out the favoritism and preference of Oliver to him and his mother here, so it may also be appropriation of color to draw attention to Farleigh as almost (but never quite) Oliver. it may also be as simple as that Farleigh, as much as he denies and resists, still retains Oliver's influence, which bleeds into him very slowly.
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a nice little moment of Felix wearing blue swim shorts with just tiny specks of a pink pattern. Oliver's shorts also have a bit of pink, but less than Felix's. Oliver is pretty good at remaining unaffected and uninfluenced overall.
and we're getting to where it all clicked and started for me. the Quick family house, the failed reconciliation, and the immediate aftermath. oh it's so good.
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on the drive there, Oliver is blue, Felix has a pink polo shirt with a solid blue pullover over it. this is the most blue Felix has ever been (this is the most blue he will ever be!), this is trust. however shaky and toxic it is, Felix loves Oliver and accepts him into his world. as a side note, Oliver's parents are also very blue, mom more so than dad. nice!
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and then it crashes. immediately after, it's the evening of the same day, but Felix is not wearing the blue pullover anymore. this is very, very important. this is rejection. it's the end for Oliver in Felix's world and with his trust. Felix, again, in solid pink, Oliver in solid blue. Felix successfully rips him out with the roots and everything. ouch.
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daddy. sorry. is that highlighter? sweat? fuck. let me- daddy. SORRY
no i actually have a point about this.
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the clothes are replaced by the lights, but we roll with it. Oliver basks in the blue-green light, while Felix is on the other side, in pink and purple and red. sure, blue shines through, and Oliver also walks through the slashes of pink, but it is mostly pretty separate, Oliver watching Felix's pink in his own blue from a distance.
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the morning after palette is deep. the wine color that is so prominent in these scenes is fascinating to me. if i were to over-reach again i'd say it's the Oliver in Felix's attributes and in his place that requires the robe to be so dark, not usual definite pink, because deep blue has leaked into the color itself, mixed with it, made itself integral to the shade. but it's also just a nice color, and it is pink in its core. the flowers (with sir James in the background) i think are also this specific shade for the same reason. you look at what remains of Felix everywhere here, and it is his color.
and finally oh the lunch scene. the last supper. the judgement day. the who's afraid of virginia woolf madness.
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i think we've established what's up with Oliver, but i also think it's important that he is his own color at lunch but in Felix's pink/wine right before and after. lunch is where he attacks, whereas before and after is where he grieves and enjoys. Farleigh is almost completely blue save for a strip of the same deep pink, and he is soon cast out, and Venetia is striped, blue and pink/salmon, affected deeply by Oliver yet still clinging on to the Catton pink with grief, probably, but also love for Felix.
and after all this, Oliver leaves himself.
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no, like, actually, literally himself. sure, he'd got a taste of the Cattons and the pink, but he is a monolith, a solid blue when he leaves Saltburn. he has not been affected by the house, he has taken what he wanted but stayed true and whole. what a power move, honestly.
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but it's an even bigger deal that 16 years later, Elspeth runs into Oliver wearing all white and a blue scarf. oh, she's not let this go, alright; it was a long time ago, "but not to me," she says. What Oliver has been up to in that time is a great question, without a doubt he's been keeping tabs on the remaining family as much as he could; but Elspeth has never moved on, either. She has held on to Oliver's blue and the pink is not important at all now. Oliver, of course, is invariably, unwaveringly blue. welcome back to his show.
and welcome back to his triumph.
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the only color (except for, again, white and black) we see him wear in the flashback about Saltburn inheritance is the all-too familiar deep pink. wine. bright pink mixed with deep blue.
now i will take a liberty and step back, over-reach, over-interpret and go insane. here's a fun bit on ancient greek culture trivia for you.
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this is an interesting and complicated historiographical and linguistic debate that i will not even attempt to relay here, but the essence of it is this: for us, the sea is conventionally deep blue. historically, one of the most prominent civilizations considered "deep wine" to be the descriptor for it (not necessarily the color but the property. highly rec to look this up it's so fascinating). what it gives me here is that Oliver has changed color, but not his self. he has integrated, mixed, but persisted, completely winning over, triumphing. long live the king!
in conclusion, i would just like to propose "colors" by halsey as the next cattonquick anthem. thank you for your attention, please let me know your thoughts. yours, yes, you. cheers. god. peace out
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holybibly · 2 months
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𝔇𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔲𝔰 𝔣𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔢𝔳𝔦𝔩 | 𝔚𝔬𝔬𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔤 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯
𝔊𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: smut, Priests!AU
𝔚𝔬𝔯𝔡 ℭ𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 9,9k
𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: It is said: "The best way to get forgiveness for sins is to repent." Priest Wooyoung will tell you how to do this.
𝔚𝔄ℜ𝔑ℑ𝔑𝔊: Priest!Wooyoung, Hierophilia, church sex, religion kink, dirty talk, masturbation, humiliation, blow jobs, rough oral, power play. spanking, fingering, orgasm delay, overstimulation, dom/sub and more.
𝔄/𝔑: And so it is that I have come to please you with something wicked. I don't know why I get so inspired, but I don't care. My opinion is that Priest Wooyoung is hot as hell, that's all. There will probably be another work released this weekend, but I won't tell you what it is. Of course, the unholy hours are available as usual. It's time to repent for the sins, bunnies, and, as the saying goes, Hell's empty, all demons outside.
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You have never thought of yourself as a religious person, not under any circumstances whatsoever. You never knelt down in front of your bed, covered your eyes with trembling eyelids, and whispered softly, "Hail Mary,"  before you went to sleep in your cold and lonely bed. 
Never asking God's mercy and forgiveness, you were as far from faith and piety as you could be. The last time you had been to church was years ago, when you came to communion with one of your distant relatives.   The feeling was all too familiar, yet as alien as the shattered fragments of a mysterious dream you remembered having long ago. You walked slowly up the rain-slicked stone steps of your hometown's old church, as smooth and dreary as the weather today. The thin branches of the dead trees, devoid of the usual green foliage you knew wrapped around them at the beginning of each spring, reached up to the sky as if in prayer—brittle and outstretched—like the hands of a sinner. 
"What am I doing here?" You asked yourself as you wrapped yourself more tightly in your soft cashmere coat and let out a convulsive sigh.
You didn't know how to answer that, and you couldn't seem to find the right one. That place... it seemed to call your name, and you couldn't resist the mysterious magnetism. The church was old and gloomy—the kind of church that people do not tell you the most pleasant stories about. Your eyes wandered over the faded, dark boards and the pointed spire, topped by a crooked, spiky cross that looked almost sinister as the rain swirled around it. The place had an air of desolation about it, and for a moment, you wondered if it was haunted. 
It was the same church that your mother had gone to when she was a child, always dressed in her most beautiful clothes and with ribbons of silk woven into her hair. 
"Did this place always look as spooky as it does now?" you asked her once. 
The cold wind whipped through your long hair as you pushed open the heavy wooden doors of the church and made your way in. The rusty metal hinges sobbed pitifully at the sound of your action. The inside of the church was musty and smelled of incense, and visually, it was the same as millions of other churches: furnished with rows of wooden pews, with dusty Bibles lying in compartments attached to the backs of the pews. Narrow Gothic windows, decorated with the faces of sexless angels, stretched up to a vaulted ceiling.
There was no one there, which was what you would have expected, considering that there were only a few cars in the car park when you arrived here. You felt stupid for being here, completely unaware of what the purpose of your visit was in the first place.
The echo of your footsteps on the dark, faded midnight-blue velour floor was the only sound in the church. As you walked towards the back of the church, where the neatly decorated altar stood, your fingertips glided weightlessly along the cool edges of the old pews. Dark and full of suffering, the heavy crucifix hung over the altar like an unbearable sacred burden. There was a small confessional not too far from it.
One day, when you were a little girl, your grandparents took you to the church and insisted that you have a confession of your sins. Sitting behind the curtain, you felt so grown up; the small room seemed so much larger in comparison to your petite body. With your head bowed, you solemnly told the priest that you sometimes took a few extra biscuits when your mother wasn't looking, and he, in turn, instructed you to recite the Hail Mary a few times.
As you approached the confessional, you lazily tugged at the heavy velvet curtain, running your fingers over the faded fabric, which was worn in places. You wondered what sins you could repent of now; you didn't often reflect on what you'd done or seek forgiveness, at least not from an all-powerful divine being you weren't even sure existed. You opened the curtain and jumped at the sharp sound of metal rings as they scratched against the beam on which it was hung. The inside of the cabin was dark, and there was a smell of dust in it. You coughed and breathed in the small particles that stuck to your tongue in an unpleasant way.
"Hello, my dear."
You jumped at the slight echo of the soft, melodic voice that came from behind the metal bars of the confessional. Leaning against the door, you pressed a hand to your chest, feeling your fast heart pound. Squinting, you hoped to get a better look at the dark figure of the priest on the other side.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know anyone was here." You said it quietly. "I... I was just lookin' around."
"You're new, right?" The voice was beautiful; with every vowel the person formed, you could hear some kind of melody, low and languid, almost seductive, and you suddenly realised that your hands were covered with goose bumps. Was the temperature in the little cabin any cooler than it was in the rest of the church? You couldn't be sure, but you found yourself unconsciously pulling the tails of your coat closer to your body.
Intrigued by the man on the other side of the small grate, you took a step further into the small room and looked around.
"Something like that."
"You don't come to places like this very often?" The voice made more of a statement than a question.
"No." You agreed with it. "I can't remember when I've been to church lately." You whispered in reply, so quietly that you could hardly be heard.
Silence fell between you, and, not quite understanding what you'd done, you reached out and pulled the curtain, shrouding yourself in darkness. Through the metal bars, you saw a slender man's figure and carefully sat down on the velvet bench.
"So why did you come here today, then?" The priest asked, although there was something in his tone of voice that told you that he already knew the answer, perhaps even better than you did. Was all this small talk a normal part of confession?
"I... I'm not really sure, just an instinct." You crumpled the soft fabric of your cloak between your fingers, growing more nervous with every second of the small talk between you and the mysterious priest.
"I understand, of course." He replied with a note of familiarity, as if he heard the same thing every day of his life.
Feeling even more insecure than before, you raised an eyebrow and shifted into the uncomfortable seat beneath you. There was something special about this priest, but you couldn't put your finger on what it was.
"Is something bothering you, dear?"
You bit your lower lip as you tried to process what he said. Was something gnawing at you? Was there something that was bothering you to such an extent that you were beginning to feel pangs of conscience? Deep down inside of you, in the depths of your mind, where you didn't dare to go?
"Maybe?" You finally managed to say it, but it sounded more like a question. Your whole body was on edge, and you couldn't understand why it was so. You weren't afraid, no, but there was definitely a sense of something out of the ordinary. Something that was forbidden.
"You've been doing a lot of thinking lately, haven't you?" The man asked you a question, and all of a sudden you found yourself with your eyes half closed in bliss as you enjoyed the silky texture of his voice. It sounded like an angel was singing, but with a dark undertone. "You have been asking yourself questions, perhaps even too alarming ones."
You nodded weakly in acknowledgement of his words; despite the barrier between you, he seemed to be aware of your silent response.
"You're afraid you're bad." He said simply, and you could almost swear that he was laughing at the last two words, there was a hint of mockery in the tone of his voice.
Hearing him say that made your mouth dry up and you coughed slightly, trying to clear your throat.
"Holy Father, what makes you say things like that?"
"Are not all of us afraid of something like this at some point in our lives? We are afraid of ourselves, afraid of our sinfulness."
There was a blink of confusion on your face, a complete bewilderment at the strange turn this conversation had taken. And yet, somehow, you felt compelled to go on and hear more.
His voice dropped to a hoarse, velvety whisper that sent waves of heat down the length of your spine and caused you to squirm in your seat. Was this how you were supposed to feel at this moment?
"Let me tell you a little secret, dearie."
"I-am I listening?" Your heartbeat quickened as a single streak of pale light fell on the man behind the small bars, and for a moment you saw a dark, fox-like eye.
"We are all bad men. Every single one of us."
A shiver ran down your entire body, and you could feel the stuffy air in the confessional getting hotter and hotter.
"Even you, dearest child." He moved closer to the mesh holes in the barrier that separated the two of you, and you could make out the shape of his lips, diabolically curved and full. "Especially you."
"F-Father…"
"Wooyoung." He fixed you. "My name is Wooyoung. "
You repeated his name softly, sliding your tongue over each letter; your voice was barely above a whisper, but you could hear the man inhale sharply as his name came out of your lips. His name was sinful and sweet, almost wicked, like a serpent that tempts you to do the most evil of deeds. This man cannot be a priest at all. But if he was not a priest, who was he then?"
"You are," he began, and you could almost feel the smirk on his beautiful lips as he spoke. "Very naughty girl.
Oh, my God. This wasn't really happening. Was it? No, he couldn't have meant it. He was a priest, for God's sake.
"And what is your suggestion that I should do about it?" You asked shyly, looking down at the palms of your hands, which were now covered in shallow marks from where your nails had dug themselves into the damp skin. You couldn't see Wooyoung, but you were sure that the look in his eyes would be nothing less than piercing and malicious. "Should I say the Hail Mary several times? Pray for atonement for what I have done? You haven't even told me why it is you think I'm a sinner."
He let out a dark, dry chuckle, and you heard a muffled sound as you guessed that the palms of his hands were making hard contact with his thighs.
"Shall I show you?"
"Show me what?" Your eyes narrowed and a strange sense of anticipation began to well up inside you.
"How do I have the knowledge that you are a sinner?"
You chewed on your lower lip in thought, and then you cleared your throat with a kind of self-assured finality.
"All right. But I'm beginning to think that you're a little overconfident." You added that last part in an attempt to lessen your sense of vulnerability in front of this man. You had doubts that anything would change, but something told you that you would need all the confidence you could have.
Hearing your words, his hand reached out and pressed against the grating metal, and he let out a low purr. Up close, you could see the prominent veins that ran down Wooyoung's slender hand, his long fingers adorned with a number of expensive rings, and you tried desperately to suppress a certain feeling that threatened to force itself upon you.
"Go on, touch; don't be afraid." He called to you, and you stretched out obediently, repeating what he said, carefully placing your fingertips on the grating's metal.
Instantly, your entire world was enveloped in a bright, unholy light, and with each turn of your head, you saw clear images of unspeakable darkness, depravity, and longing. You recognised them as your dreams, as fleeting thoughts that you tried to push away, as shadows that danced on the walls of your bedroom in the late hours of the night. All of these images had been ripped right out of your mind.
You jerked your hand away from him as if it had been burned, and you cried out in pity as tears streamed uncontrollably down your cheeks. You blinked and suddenly found yourself back in the dark confessional, multi-coloured spots dancing in front of your eyes as if they were mocking you and your mind.
"What the hell was that?" You wanted your voice to be aggressive and forceful, but the words sounded weak and pathetic as soon as they left your soft lips.
"You see?" The coldness in his voice burned like a fire within you.
"Those... those are not my thoughts." You murmured in fear as the confessional seemed to grow colder and colder by the second. "They were not in mine."
Were they?
Now you could see your own breath steaming, and in one quick, desperate movement, you rushed to the curtain, tore it aside, and stepped into the light. As soon as you were out of the stall, you slumped limply into the front pew of the church, your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to figure out what the hell had just happened.
There was a rustling sound in the cabin before the door on the priest's side of the room opened slightly, and a man stepped out of the darkness—Wooyoung. He was of average height and was dressed entirely in black, like a second skin, with the exception of a crisp white collar. His black hair flowed like silk down to his sharp jaw line and framed the chiselled features of his face. With fierce dark eyes and full lips that curled into a wickedly seductive smile, he was handsome—beautifully handsome.
You should have been afraid of him after what he had just shown you. You should have turned around and run away and never looked back—away from this church and away from Wooyoung. As you have always sworn, you should have left your hometown forever.
But you didn't. The man in front of you, whose eyes seemed to have an even greater darkness in them, had completely hypnotised you.
"You are not the Holy Father." Your breath caught in your throat as he came closer. There was an unreadable expression on his handsome face as he looked down at you. "Who the hell are you?"
He smiled mischievously, and you saw something completely evil in his eyes.
"I am the man who is going to rid you of all of your sins." The sound of his voice was like sugar itself—hilariously sweet.
"W-what? Are you going to make me say my prayers?" At this, he laughed uncontrollably, vulgarly, and at the top of his voice.
"Oh, poor, sweet child." He said this in a drawl, dragging the toes of his immaculately polished black shoes along the floor and carefully folding his hands behind his back. "Absolutely not. I am going to make you repent for all of your sins."
He came to a halt just a few feet in front of you, tilted his head, and looked down at your body. There was a sense of nakedness and vulnerability under his piercing gaze. You felt completely helpless.
"Throughout your entire life, you have committed so many sins that it will take me a long time to get you to repent for them," he said. Wooyoung was talking about it as if it were the most common thing in the world.
"All right. But I'm beginning to think that you're a little overconfident." You added that last part in an attempt to lessen your sense of vulnerability in front of this man. You had doubts that anything would change, but something told you that you would need all the confidence you could have.
Hearing your words, his hand reached out and pressed against the grating metal, and he let out a low purr. Up close, you could see the prominent veins that ran down Wooyoung's slender hand, his long fingers adorned with a number of expensive rings, and you tried desperately to suppress a certain feeling that threatened to force itself upon you.
"Go on, touch; don't be afraid." He called to you, and you stretched out obediently, repeating what he said, carefully placing your fingertips on the grating's metal.
Instantly, your entire world was enveloped in a bright, unholy light, and with each turn of your head, you saw clear images of unspeakable darkness, depravity, and longing. You recognised them as your dreams, as fleeting thoughts that you tried to push away, as shadows that danced on the walls of your bedroom in the late hours of the night. All of these images had been ripped right out of your mind.
You jerked your hand away from him as if it had been burned, and you cried out in pity as tears streamed uncontrollably down your cheeks. You blinked and suddenly found yourself back in the dark confessional, multi-coloured spots dancing in front of your eyes as if they were mocking you and your mind.
"What the hell was that?" You wanted your voice to be aggressive and forceful, but the words sounded weak and pathetic as soon as they left your soft lips.
"You see?" The coldness in his voice burned like a fire within you.
"Those... those are not my thoughts." You murmured in fear as the confessional seemed to grow colder and colder by the second. "They were not in mine."
Were they?
Now you could see your own breath steaming, and in one quick, desperate movement, you rushed to the curtain, tore it aside, and stepped into the light. As soon as you were out of the stall, you slumped limply into the front pew of the church, your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to figure out what the hell had just happened.
There was a rustling sound in the cabin before the door on the priest's side of the room opened slightly, and a man stepped out of the darkness—Wooyoung. He was of average height and was dressed entirely in black, like a second skin, with the exception of a crisp white collar. His black hair flowed like silk down to his sharp jaw line and framed the chiselled features of his face. With fierce dark eyes and full lips that curled into a wickedly seductive smile, he was handsome—beautifully handsome.
You should have been afraid of him after what he had just shown you. You should have turned around and run away and never looked back—away from this church and away from Wooyoung. As you have always sworn, you should have left your hometown forever.
But you didn't. The man in front of you, whose eyes seemed to have an even greater darkness in them, had completely hypnotised you.
"You are not the Holy Father." Your breath caught in your throat as he came closer. There was an unreadable expression on his handsome face as he looked down at you. "Who the hell are you?"
He smiled mischievously, and you saw something completely evil in his eyes.
"I am the man who is going to rid you of all of your sins." The sound of his voice was like sugar itself—hilariously sweet.
"W-what? Are you going to make me say my prayers?" At this, he laughed uncontrollably, vulgarly, and at the top of his voice.
"Oh, poor, sweet child." He said this in a drawl, dragging the toes of his immaculately polished black shoes along the floor and carefully folding his hands behind his back. "Absolutely not. I am going to make you repent for all of your sins."
He came to a halt just a few feet in front of you, tilted his head, and looked down at your body. There was a sense of nakedness and vulnerability under his piercing gaze. You felt completely helpless.
"Throughout your entire life, you have committed so many sins that it will take me a long time to get you to repent for them," he said. Wooyoung was talking about it as if it were the most common thing in the world.
"What if I have no desire for repentance?" You said it in a defiant tone. You wanted to be brave; you wanted to be strong and confident, but something deep down inside of you told you that Wooyoung was not the kind of person that you couldn't help but obey. His whole aura told you that if he wanted to, he would fold you up like an origami piece. But there was nothing you could do about it; you had to test the waters to see what would happen if you refused to bend to his will.
He looked at you so intently that you felt he wanted to eat you alive right then and there.
"But I have a feeling that's not the case, is it?" He said this as he ran the tips of his fingers along your jaw. You tensed as he touched you, feeling a cold shiver run down your spine as Wooyoung lazily ran his thumb over your lower lip. "I think you want to get on your knees before me, child. You wish to repent."
Your eyes widened at the sound of his words, and a smirk of arrogance spread across his perfect scarlet lips. Why haven't you fought back?
He leaned forward so that his gorgeous face was only inches away from yours. You squeezed your thighs together as warm wetness began to pool between them, realising he was even more beautiful up close, like sin itself.
"I could smell the sweetness of your cunt from the moment you walked into the church, you little slut." His voice dropped a couple of octaves, and you shivered at the feel of his hot breath on the skin of your body.
The vulgarity of his words made you gasp, but you couldn't deny how your mouth watered at the sound of his velvety voice saying the words 'cunt' and'slut'. God, he was doing something to you, but you were... You were attracted to it.
"I smelled that smell when you walked into the confessional, when you heard my voice, when you said my name." His eyes sparkled in a devilish way, trapping you in his gaze, and if you hadn't been so excited, you would have noticed the black shadows dancing along the edges of his irises.
He was speaking to you in an almost patronising manner now, and you froze in place as he pulled your lower lip down and gently ran his thumb along the inside of it until the pad of his finger was slick with your saliva.
"Wooyoung..." You exhaled, looking down at your hands, fidgeting aimlessly in your lap. Your cheeks were hot and flushed, and by the way Wooyoung looked at you, with a predatory hunger woven into the perfect features of his face, you could tell that your shyness was only turning him on even more.
"There's never been a girl in my life that has been so desperate for a fuck as you have. Your desires ... they are almost tangible." He was so close to you now that his hot lips touched the round of your cheek, sending a wave of electricity through your body as he spoke. "I have met many sinners in my life, as you can imagine."
"Are you going to punish me for that?" He raised an eyebrow before straightening up and looking down at you, seemingly completely satisfied with your answer. A majestic expression of all-encompassing power was frozen on his face as he spoke.
"No, darling, of course not. I wouldn't want to punish you, but I am going to make you repent. And the first sin you will have to do penance for will be lust." Wooyoung said, and you found yourself biting your lower lip at the commanding tone of his voice. "Stand up." He gave you the order.
You did as he asked you to, got up from your seat, and stood in front of the so-called priest. He moved around you in a circle, as if considering what to do with you, never allowing you to escape his dark gaze. His tongue stretched out to lick his plump lips in a sensual way; finally, he sat down on the spot where you had been a few seconds before and ran his hands over his muscular, thick thighs.
You were standing in front of him, completely at his mercy, your head bowed in respect as he looked at you like a predator from his seated position, your skin burning under the weight of his gaze. You could almost feel his eyes as they crawled over your body, peeling away layer after layer until they reached the very core of your soul.
"Get undressed." There was a metallic edge to Wooyoung's voice as he crossed his legs and leaned back, his long hair falling over his handsome face, making him even more vicious. "Now."
You opened your mouth to speak, words of protest hovering on the tip of your tongue, but you closed it immediately, realising that it was better not to protest. The feeling of submission came again, sharp and clear, and you quickly pulled off your cloak and threw it to the ground behind you. The soft fabric pooled on top of the midnight blue velour. Then your jumper and your jeans joined it, your hands shaking as you unbuttoned them and pulled them down to your hips.
As you shyly wrapped your arms around yourself, you suddenly realised that your nipples were hard and swollen and could be seen peeking out from under the thin white lace of your bra.
Wooyoung leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees and his sharp chin resting on his palms, before he glared at you.
"You have to undress completely, darling."
You nodded obediently, reached behind your back to unhook your bra, and with timid reluctance, pulled the lace straps off your shoulders. You lowered your eyes in shame and looked down at the floor, while Wooyoung kept his gaze fixed on you.
"In atoning for our sins." He began to speak softly, reaching out to your face and gently guiding your chin so that you looked up at him. "We do not have the luxury of being modest." Wooyoung patted your cheek in a condescending manner before he hooked his fingertips into the waistband of your panties, which were nothing more than a thin piece of white lace. He let out a sweet moan as he slowly pulled them off of you, inch by inch, revealing the smooth skin and the wet folds of your pussy.
You blushed as you watched him rub the lace between his fingers, and a thoughtful look came over his handsome face as he said.
"They're wet, darling." He finally said it in a sarcastic tone, his lips curling into a disgusted grin. "You really are a whore, aren't you? You walk around in wet panties and have depraved thoughts, and no less so than about a person who wears holy garments." Despite the roughness and harshness of his words, you could still see the mischievous gleam in his eyes. He tucked your panties into his trouser pocket.
"It's really pathetic, isn't it?" His tongue flicked over his plump lower lip until it was glistening with saliva, and a quick glance down at his crotch showed that he was hard. "You are so lucky that I am here to help you rid yourself of all the sins that you have committed, my child."
The humiliating nature of the situation was turning you on far more than you were prepared to admit. Your clit was throbbing with pain, so intense that it was beginning to distract you, and your thoughts were constantly wandering off in a thick, lustful haze.
"Show me how you touch yourself at night when you are alone with all those sordid thoughts. I want to see you give yourself over to sin." Wooyoung ordered you as he leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest in a casual manner. It was impossible to ignore his erection in this position, and your mouth fell open a little when you noticed just how massive the bulge was.
"Y-yes, sir." You whispered. Your mind was spinning with lust as you parted your legs slightly for easier access, your hand hesitantly touching the warm, soft flesh of your inner thighs, shuddering as you discovered the abundance of your juices running down it.
"Keep going, darling. Don't be shy." In response to his words, your fingers touched your neglected, throbbing clit, spreading a sticky, warm wetness and massaging it in slow, firm circles. You whimpered softly, partly from pleasure and partly from the thick humiliation that was blooming in your throat, to which Wooyoung only gave a wicked grin.
"Come on, we both know that you can do it better than that." He reproached you. "I'd like to see you fuck yourself, darling."
You swallowed hard and hesitantly let your fingers slide between the wet folds of your pussy. Your behaviour was beginning to irritate Wooyoung, and all the playfulness was gone in an instant, and a venomous bitterness appeared in his voice. With the silver of his rings digging uncomfortably into your skin, he reached out and wrapped his fingers around your wrist. His gaze was as intent and as dark as the night, and you shivered at the sight.
"Didn't you hear what I said? I said, fuck yourself."
It was such a rude and vulgar thing to say, especially coming from someone who was a priest, and it took your breath away. In obedience to his command, you immediately slid two fingers through the soft, wet folds and into your cunt. You let out a long moan as you felt your silky walls stretch around your fingers, and, trying to get more of the feeling, you began to move them back and forth. Trying desperately to keep your balance in this awkward position, your knees were getting weaker by the second, and you could feel yourself starting to orgasm.
"You don't expect me to believe that your slutty little cunt can only hold two fingers, do you?" Wooyoung mocked him, biting down on his plump lower lip with her perfect set of teeth. 
Gritting your teeth against the invasion, you sighed heavily and added another finger. The soft walls of your vagina squeezed your fingers like a velvet vice with every move you made. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to push away the shame that was quickly engulfing you like the flames of hell. The wet, squelching sound of your fingers moving in and out of your pussy was nothing short of vulgar.
"Harder, show me all of it." Wooyoung's sharp command came out, and you did your best to obey, curling your fingers and rubbing them roughly against the small, spongy bundle of nerves inside you. You were breathing heavily, your forehead and neck glistening with sweat, and your lips red and swollen when Wooyoung finally told you to stop. It was cruel, the way he waited patiently and calculatedly until you were about to come, only to deny you, but you couldn't bring yourself to complain; it was your punishment after all.
Your fingers picked up the glistening wetness that flowed from your cunt, and as you looked at Wooyoung, you brought it to your mouth and wrapped your lips around your fingers, licking it and sucking every last drop of it.
He rose sharply from where he sat, shading you and towering over you like the very embodiment of God—or the Devil? Wooyoung wiped away the beads of sweat that had formed on your hairline, with a look of genuine affection on his handsome face. This tenderness did not last for long, however, and after a few seconds, he was back in his unrelenting position of authority.
"On your knees, dear." You did so without hesitation, your knees immediately touching the faded and discoloured velour.
"Look at you, stripped of all your dignity, on your knees, writhing in despair, like a bitch in heat. Aren't you a sight to see?"
You blinked slowly, looking up at him with a fawn's wide-eyed innocence, squeezing your legs together as another wave of excitement surged from your needy cunt. Wooyoung taunted you; there was no way he would show you mercy—you could see it in his eyes as he looked at you coldly, his pretty mouth pressed into a thin line.
"You have no pride, my dear, but you must still do penance for that, to be sure you will have forgiveness for that too." He lifted one foot and placed it on the seat of the bench, presenting you with a polished, expensive-looking shoe. "Clean it for me. With your mouth, my dear."
You raised an eyebrow at Wooyoung but didn't argue, for fear that he would punish you more severely and in more subtle ways if you didn't comply. His boot looked clean enough; not a single scuff could be seen on the shiny leather, and as you moved closer to the bench, you ran the tip of your tongue along the leather in an experimental way. It didn't taste like much, which was a relief to your anxiety, and soon you were flattening your tongue and licking the hard material as if your life depended on it.
"Good girl." He cooed, but there was very little in the way of kindness in that reassurance. As if you were nothing more than a pet, his hand stroked your hair. You were relieved when Wooyoung pulled away and removed his foot from the bench, shuddering at the thought of all the dirt you were putting in your mouth.
"Look at me, my darling."
Your eyes fell on the large bulge at the front of his dark, neatly pressed trousers, and you moved away from the bench so that you were now level with his crotch. A beam of red light shone through the stained glass behind him, reflecting off the black stone of his ring as Wooyoung ran his fingers over his belt. As he slowly unbuckled the belt, the church was silent, except for the faint jingle of the metal buckle. Your gaze lingered for a moment on the image of the Virgin Mary that stood in the corner of the church. Was there judgement in her eyes? Was there a sense of disgust? Her face was as divinely serene as ever, and you couldn't tell.
Too handsome to be a saint, he bowed his head towards you, long strands of black hair falling down to frame his face. Wooyoung unzipped his trousers, taking a moment for a lewd touch of his bulge before pulling out his hard cock. The head of his cock was wet and turgid; a thick drop of pre-cum rolled down its length, and you wanted to follow its movement with your tongue.
"What do you crave, huh?" He asked, hissing as his hand slid up and down the length of his thick cock.
"Do you crave something that can't be satisfied?" His words flowed in a rhythmic flow, and his tone was so soft that you could almost swear that he was singing to you. It was the voice of an angel that was calling out to you. "Do you take all that they give you, only to find that you're still starving to death?" You bobbed your head up and down, desperate and needy, and parted your lips as he rubbed the head over your lips, staining them with pre-cum, making them slick and shiny. You were giddy, stunned by the pure, erotic beauty of this man, this stranger, whom you had so willingly allowed to pollute you in this house of God.
"You're a greedy little animal, aren't you?" Wooyoung taunted you with a throaty grunt as he slapped his cock against your cheek. You kept your hands on your hips, waiting obediently for further instructions. You grew more and more restless by the second, not having his dick in your mouth or in your hand.
God, you were one hungry little thing, you really were.
From where you were on your knees, he looked ethereal, his full lips moulded into a perfect, sensual shape. It was fascinating to watch such a man let himself fall apart like that, his chest rising and falling and sweat forming on his forehead as he moved his hand over his thick cock.
He let out a low, guttural moan as he picked up the pace and came closer and closer to the edge, throwing his head back towards the vaulted ceiling. You were so turned on that you were sure your juices were already dripping onto the carpet beneath you, forming a small puddle, a dirty declaration of your desire. The unpleasant throbbing of your cunt only intensified as you witnessed Wooyoung's approach to orgasm, his breathing choked and ragged.
He looked down at you and licked his luscious, almost sinful, lips.
"Open your mouth, dear." As if you knew he wanted it, you parted your jaw and lowered your head to his cock. Wooyoung jerked his cock a few more times before he released a silky stream of hot, salty cum into your open mouth, an animalistic roar of pleasure escaping from his lips like music. "Don't even have a thought about swallowing."
You felt the thick stream of his cum begin to flow down your tongue and into the depths of your throat, but you ignored the instinctive urge to swallow. Wooyoung pulled his trousers back on, buckled his belt around his waist, and sat back down on the bench with a cold indifference. There was not a single trace left of the erotic image that you had seen just a minute ago.
He patted his muscular, thick thighs and looked at you defiantly, and you obediently walked over to him and sat down on his lap.
His warm thigh pressed against your cunt without pity as soon as you sat down, and you pressed against him desperately in pursuit of the pleasure he hadn't allowed you to have yet. At the same time, Wooyoung slapped your bare bottom with the palm of his hand.
"You have been impertinent to me, which means you have an anger that makes you want to sin. And that is one of my favourite sins, my dear. Wooyoung said as he put his hands on your hips to stop you from squirming on his leg. "To see all the terrible things people can do just because of a little anger is both fascinating and funny."
He lifted you slightly and placed you on his lap. You obeyed him without saying a word. He manipulated you like a doll, positioning you so that you were completely on top of him, your long hair falling in your face and your head tilted forward. You clenched your jaw as hard as you could, terrified of what would happen if you let a single drop of his sperm come out of your mouth. You winced and whimpered as he wedged his knee between your legs again, his hand brushing the tender junction of your ass and thigh.
"I can feel the rage burning deep inside you, my child." Wooyoung held your hands behind your back as he restrained you, tears welling in your eyes. He used his other hand to press down on your lower back and used his knee to press down on your wet cunt. You let out a scream, the piercing sound muffled by your closed lips. The texture of his cum seemed to get thicker the longer it remained on your tongue, and you had to clench your jaw tighter, praying that nothing would accidentally drip out. You couldn't afford to be disgusted by how bitter and cold it had become, coating your mouth with every slight movement you made.
"Isn't that so? Answer me, dear." He growled as he began to massage your ass so hard that you could feel his nails digging into your soft skin.
All you could manage was a pitiful "mmmm.".
"Angry, naughty girl." He said, his voice full of fake sympathy as he ran his fingertips along your thighs in preparation for what was to come. "We can't let this pass unnoticed, can we? You need to repent."
Without warning, he slapped your ass so hard you almost forgot the cum in your mouth. Your body jerked forward before he caught you and brought you back. He didn't give you any time to recover from the blow, as he landed a second one on the opposite side of your ass. Your eyes welled up with tears and concentration as you struggled to keep your mouth shut. Tears started streaming from your eyes down your flushed, hot cheeks as he hit you again with even more sadistic aggression than the first two times. Wooyoung continued his merciless assault, each blow harder than the last, until he landed a particularly hard blow that you were sure would leave a bloody handprint on your skin. The force of the blow was almost enough to bring you to a scream, and for a moment, your lips parted. A small stream of cum ran from the corner of your mouth and down the side of your chin.
You hoped that he hadn't noticed, but you realised that you were out of luck when he let go of your wrists and took a firm grip of your hair instead. As he leaned down to speak roughly into your ear, he dug his nails into the battered, red skin of your ass as he pulled your head back.
"I will have no choice but to extend your punishment if you make a mess, my dear." When he warned you, Wooyoung's voice was deep and quietly ominous, like the ocean on the brink of a storm. He waited for a nod of understanding from you before he let go of your hair and returned to his previous position, running the palm of his hand lovingly over the swollen expanse of your ass.
You closed your eyes and took deep, slow breaths as Wooyoung spanked you over and over again without stopping. You would probably have enjoyed the spanking if it hadn't been for the added responsibility of holding a tonne of cum in your mouthYou s you squirm under his touch. His knee was still pressed relentlessly against your cunt, and his trousers were no doubt slippery from your excitement, the friction sending jolts of pleasure through your body every time you jerked in response to another loud slap against your skin. The sound was almost deafening, echoing off the walls of the old church in a dull echo.
Your punishment turned Wooyoung on once more, his hard cock pressed against the side of your body.
"It's turning you on, you little bitch." The tone of his voice would have been venomous, but it still remained angelic in some way. "I shouldn't be surprised about that. It doesn't matter what kind of touch you have, is it? You're such a needy slut that even the most innocent of touches makes your cunt wet." He ran his fingers through the tangled hair at the back of your head and let out a mocking chuckle. "You can swallow now, darling."
You swallow the cold, sticky cum, gasping in relief as it slides down your throat, immediately following his request. You could still taste it on the inside of your mouth, a faint hint of savoury sweetness tickling your taste buds. After he had spent a few seconds stroking your battered bottom in gentle, soothing movements, he grabbed hold of your sides and lifted you up until you were back in a sitting position on the edge of his lap. For the second time that night, he unbuckled his belt, sliding his trousers and boxer shorts halfway down his hips and freeing his thick cock.
Your stomach churned at the sight of Wooyoung's big, thick cock, but you knew better than to give in to your dark desires. All you could think about was how much you wanted to feel it—to run your hand along its veiny member, to curl your lips around its warm, velvety length, to jump on it and take it so deep into your cunt until you were sure you could feel it deep inside your belly. Wooyoung was absolutely right: you didn't care how he touched you at all. You were longing to feel his touch in any way that was possible.
"Pampered little sluts like you are always too used to being given everything they want without having to lift a finger to get it." He said this as he used his thumb to massage the wet head of his cock. He lifted you up and guided you to straddle him, his hands gripping the soft curves of your hips. Your breath caught; you were so close to your desire that you could almost taste it on your tongue.
"Is that what you wanted, darling?" Wooyoung hummed sweetly as he wrapped his long fingers around your wrist and pressed your hand down onto his cock. Instinctively, you grabbed hold of it, sinking your teeth into your lower lip as you ran your fingers along the prominent veins that adorned the length of his cock.
"Yeah, Holy Father." You said it breathlessly. "God, yes. This is what I have been craving so much."
"You little whore, you ought to know better than to take the name of the Lord in vain in the presence of a priest." Wooyoung teased, and you could feel his hot, cinnamon-scented breath on the back of your neck. The pleasure rippled through your body.
"Please, Wooyoung, please, I want to repent." You came close to whimpering. Your hips jerked in Wooyoung's tight grip in search of some kind of relief, and he reached forward to hold you tightly.
"You must try harder, darling. I want to see you try to repent." He placed his hands on either side of you, and the corners of his sensual lips curled up slightly into a wicked grin as he leaned back against the bench and looked at you from under his half-closed eyelids. You leaned forward and held his cock upright by the base. Sitting up, you rubbed the flushed head along your soft, wet folds, pushing it past your entrance and stretching the small hole with his thick, hot cock. Your heart pounded in your chest, pounding against your ribs as you slid on top of him all at once. At the obviously intense pain of his thickness stretching your narrow, silky walls, tears streamed from your eyes.
"Dear Lord." You let out a loud moan and rolled your eyes back as he suddenly filled you to the brim. Wooyoung didn't move, maintaining a majestic coolness, but you could see him sucking his plump lower lip into his mouth when he could feel your pussy enveloping him, a soft hiss coming from the back of his throat.
"That's it, my darling." He praised you, not being able to control himself, and he began to knead your plump tits in his hands. You squealed and barely moved your hips, still trying to get used to the idea of having something so massive and so hot inside of you. "I want you to fuck yourself on my dick. Can you do that for me like a good girl?" he asked.
"Yeah, Holy Father." You replied breathlessly. You leaned over Wooyoung's shoulder and grabbed hold of the edge of the bench with both hands to prop yourself up. As you began to move slowly, up and down on his cock, Wooyoung pressed his mouth to your sensitive nipple and ran his tongue over it.
You were starting to sweat, but you continued to fuck yourself as ordered, gaining momentum with each thrust of your hips.
The lewd sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the empty church and mingled with the muffled, lascivious moans that escaped from your throat. You had never experienced ecstasy like this before, and you were not sure if you would ever be able to experience it again. You were insatiable, moving your hips in an almost painfully hard rhythm, your knuckles white from the force of your grip on the bench. The head of Wooyoung's cock reached your cervix, and you saw stars, unable to think of anything else but your inevitable orgasm and the devilishly beautiful man beneath you.
"Fuck, oh, fuck, Wooyoung, please..." You screamed out the words in an incoherent manner, completely consumed by the intense pleasure you were feeling. Wooyoung was a lot less eloquent than you and tried to control himself, but it was obvious that he was going crazy as well, judging by how hard he was pressing down on you. You could be sure that the marks that his hands had left on your body would be there for a long time to come.
He growled as he lifted his hips up towards you, and streams of tears began to run down your cheeks with renewed force. It hurt, but you loved the pain, you craved it, and you knew you wouldn't be able to forget it for weeks and weeks.
"I'm so close... oh fuck, I'm... I'm..." You let out a loud moan and threw your head back.
With that, he pushed you away from him with such force that you fell off his lap, your ass touching the cold velour carpet, his cock coming out of you just as you were about to come. You sobbed pitifully and looked up at Wooyoung with your eyes wide and glassy as he rose to his feet, his cock glistening with the wetness of your cunt.
"I don't think you're sincere enough in repenting; you're still full of sin, full of forbidden and dark desires, my dear." Wooyoung said it in a dismissive manner as he looked down at you. He leaned down and ran his long fingers through your hair, pulling you up until you were kneeling. "I know what you want, negligible girl. You want to cum. But unfortunately for you, today I'm the only one who can do it."
He mocked you, taking pleasure in the look of misery on your face as he forced your mouth open. He then shoved his cock into your mouth, letting you taste the arousal of your own as it covered him, and without any warning at all,, he began to fuck you in the face at a fast, merciless pace. Gagging on his cock and taking shallow breaths through your nose as he pushed down your throat, using your hair as a rein to guide your head, there was nothing you could do but take what was given to you. You felt his cock twitch, and then your nose was pressed against the smooth, hot skin of his pelvis, one hand holding you in place as warm ropes of cum shot down your throat. He released you and threw you on your side like a rag doll when he was sure you had drunk every last drop.
Too humiliated to look into the eyes of the gorgeous man who had brought you to this state, you began to sob, pulling your knees to your chest. There was no more holiness in Wooyoung than there was in the devil himself. Like the wolf in sheep's clothing, he wore a robe. At the moment, you were nothing more than a whimpering mess, bruised and humiliated, with a sore throat and trembling lips.
And yet somehow your cunt was throbbing and leaking, desperate for filling.
"Please, Wooyoung..." As the words left your lips, you felt numb and didn't even know how you could speak. "Please."
From where he was standing, he looked sinfully delicious, towering over you like a fallen angel dressed in black and sin as you lay on the floor, and you watched in disappointment as he tucked his dick back into his trousers. With what little strength you had left, you tugged at the hem of his trouser leg, and he tilted his head questioningly, a sensual smile crossing his plump lips at the sight of your hopeless state.
"Please. I don't know what you want me to repent for, but please.... Just... please. I'll do anything for you. Wooyoung..." You were on your knees, pressing your cheek against his thigh like a cat begging for food.
"What do you want, my child?" He asked in a voice that was patronising and majestic. He gently stroked your cheek with his thumb, wiping away some of the tears that had partially dried as he did so. "Wasn't that enough for you? Isn't it enough that my cock fills your mouth and your cunt? Are you going to ask me for more when I have already given you so much?"
You lowered your eyes in shame.
He grabbed you roughly by the shoulder and jerked you to your feet, throwing you onto the bench as he did so. Wooyoung licked his lips as he admired the sight of your naked body as it lay on the wooden bench, the angry red marks on your skin, and the blackened bruises that adorned your thighs.
"Do you want to cum? Is that what you want, you little slut?" Wooyoung asked you as he dropped to his knees and spread your thighs wide open. When you didn't answer, he smacked you hard on the inside of your thigh. "Answer me, bitch."
"Oh my God." You sighed, melting at the teasing sensation of the cold air of the wind on your hot and needy cunt as he spoke. "Y-yes Holy Father. That is what I want."
"Isn't it?" Wooyoung purred, holding your hips in place so that they would remain open for his pleasure. "I will be gracious to you, because that is what God commands us to be."
Suddenly, he lowered himself forward and buried his gorgeous face in your pussy, stroking vigorously between the folds of your pussy and collecting your sticky secretions on his tongue. You moaned wildly, one hand tangled in his black silk hair, reflexively rubbing your pussy all over his face. He wrapped his plump lips around your clit, sucking just enough to leave you stunned, and ran his tongue between your soft folds, swollen from his previous actions. Squirming helplessly under his ministrations, you cried out as he let go of one of your hips and slipped two long fingers inside you.
It was brutal—the way he moved his fingers inside you in a merciless way, his mouth working fervently over your clit. The edges of your vision became blurred, and soon you could feel the walls of your pussy beginning to contract, a sign that your climax was nearing.
"I... I... damn!" He flicked your head once more with the tip of his tongue, and then you came, throwing your head back in euphoria as you were consumed by your orgasm. Your cunt vibrated as Wooyoung laughed mockingly, and it was then that the whole situation became clear to you: you had been fucked, well and truly. He wasn't going to let you breathe; instead, he continued to play with your throbbing clit, a third finger thrusting into you with a dirty, lewd slurp.
"This is too much..." You whimpered as his tongue moved quickly around your sensitive clit, and his fingers spread you lightly as they went. You had no choice but to accept what he was giving you—the pleasure coursing through you so strongly that it became unbearable—but you were sure that was what he wanted—to punish you with what you craved so much.
He ran his fingers inside of you, guiding them so that they hit the deepest places that no one else had ever been able to reach. He twisted and turned them, brushing against something that was spongy and sensitive, and for a moment all you could see was white as you came for the second time. Just as you had feared, Wooyoung had no intention of stopping; now he was sucking on your clit with such passion that you could barely move, and you fell limply to the back of the bench, your legs twitching under his tight grip. He continued to push his fingers deep into you, your body shuddering weakly each time the tips of his fingers made contact with your cervix.
"Wooyoung, please stop." You begged, but all he did was laugh maliciously and spread his fingers out inside of you, stretching you even further. He pulled away from your clit with a loud pop, and you were on the verge of a sigh of relief until he removed his fingers from your core and replaced them with his sinful lips.
"N-no, that's too much, please!" Now you were sobbing openly as he lowered his head to lick the stripes between your folds, his thumb circling your defenceless clit, his long silken hair tickling the sore skin on your inner thighs.
Wooyoung sucked one of your labia into his mouth before he pushed himself deeper into your entrance and began to fuck you with his skilled, long tongue. You felt the familiar tightness in your stomach once more, and the muscles in your thighs clenched as he pinched your clit with two fingers. The coil in your stomach snapped without warning, and then you came, but this time everything was different: a wave of clear liquid burst from your overstimulated cunt and soaked Wooyoung's face and the front of his perfect shirt.
Eventually, he pulled himself away, his lips curling into a wicked grin as he looked down at the mess that you had made.
"You filthy little thing." He laughed as he wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve and licked his wet fingers at the mess. "So, what do you think? Have you come to understand how you can repent of your sins?"
"Y-yes, Holy Father." You said you were clenching your legs in a protective manner in case he decided to go for another round.
"Good." He rose to his feet again, looking just as untouched as he had been the first time you had seen him, except for his hair, which was slightly dishevelled.
Your whole body was aching, from your sore ass to your swollen cunt, from your hips to your back. You were sure that for the next few weeks, Wooyoung would be the only thing on your mind.    "I will be waiting for your return, my child. I need to be sure that you have understood the righteous path and that you are living without sin. Do you understand me, dear?"
"Yes, Wooyoung, I am definitely going to come back to confess."
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keypaa · 2 months
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Astrology Observations No.5 🧛🏻‍♀️💋🖤👻
(+ a bit creepy stuff)
I use the whole sign system
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Uranus opposition Ascendant & strangers talking to you all of a sudden in unexpected ways and places
Mars in 8th house get attacked by spirits often (sleep paralysis, seeing shadows, feeling presences) in many places you go to
!Sensitive topic¡
Astroid Medusa (149) in strong aspects (usually squares) with the north node/southnode + pluto indicate r*pe. I saw it in two of my friends chart. The north node can be seen as destiny. Even if you don't have this aspect and still went through this i love you you are never alone ❣︎
Scorpio ascendants attract a whole bunch of creeps trust your gut and keep it safe people always pay attention to what you are doing you just need to look closer
Lilith in the 10th house and females being annoyed of their presence in the work place. Usually also attract a whole bunch of jealousy in school, uni or at work. Michele Avil that was murdered by her best friend because of jealousy had this placement
Moon in Scorpio hate not having control they know how to (atleast try) to get someone to do something. Positive note good investigators who would make great psychologists, detectives and so on
So well if you have a bunch of 1st house, 8th house or 12th house placements in planets like venus, mars, moon or lilith you are more prone to attract stalkers atleast once in your life KEEP IT SAFE and I mean it¡! And by stalkers I also mean people who do a whole bunch of research on you and your life or keep following you obsessively on social media.
Don't leak unnecessary information about you and try to not go to quite places alone where no one could find you if something would happen.
Lilith in leo are feared by females loved by men
Venus in 10th house don't tell anyone about your love life trust me even tho people always find things to say and spread rumors about. You will publicly be known for what is happening in your love life.
Moon in aries need to be feared, if introverted it takes long to see their anger but most aries moons show ther anger explosively nevertheless they cool down rather quickly, loyal to their loved ones tho
Don't fuxk with leo venus friends they take care of them like a lion mother, dedicated
Venus in capricorn always have enemys
Masculines with libra placements always fall for people who don't love them the same way/or for absolutely toxic & crazzzy people
Lilith in the 22nd degree are necrophilists. Just look at Richard Ramirez chart, he loved s*x with the dead.
According to Ian Altosaar the 22nd degree is about murder and I combined this information with liliths nature, hidden desire. 👻Ps: Most necrophilists are men not always but almost all the time https://ijop.net/index.php/mlu/article/download/734/688/1339 or on Wikipedia (not so reliable source but says that about 92% are men)
Virgo placements get underratedly sexualised a whole lot. The biggest p*rn star right now has virgo placements. Also virgo liliths can be se*ualised
Pisces moons had a time of their life where they cried a lot or still are very emotional (nothing bad). Other than that they can be dangerously manipulative if they want to and feel every slight difference in someones behavior
Aquarius ascendants and loving colorful clothing
Juno (3) in aries and rooting for ambitious people that behave masculine in a loving manner (romantically)
Juno (3) in aquarius want a partner that sticks out from the masses
Mercury in sagittarius have a special voice
Pholus (astroid) shows you what transformed you the most in your life:
1st hous/Aries: You yourself/sports caused a transformation in your life
2st house/Taurus: Your financial situation changed you
3rd house/Gemini: The area where you live in (hood) affected you, or off topic your car/drivers license
4rd house/Cancer: Your home life, emotions or femininity
5th house/Leo: Creative skills of yours or recognition transformed you
6th house/Virgo: Routine or your health/hygiene plays/played a crucial role in your life
7th house/Libra: Your love life/ or glow up affected your life view
8th house/Scorpio: Deaths, paranormal stuff, operations, accidents and your sexuality transformed your way of dealing with life
9th house/ Saggitarius: Other cultures, traveling and your ancestors trigger something in you
10th house/Capricorn: Your work, work environment and accomplishments changed you
11th house/Aquarius: Humanitarian topics, technology and friends started your transformation journey
12th house/Pisces: Religion, spirituality & plastic surgerys may have affected your journey of developing your sense of self
Luvvv muah
3:18 PM
555
© 2024 the content is subject to the copyright and responsibility of the author
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bluemusickid · 2 months
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Private Chef! Joel thots
ok so I've had this idea lingering for a while now, and the SAG outfit has just FUELLEDDD more of my thots!!!
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Side note: (He has never looked sexier, how dare he age this well; how am I supposed to go on with my life; this is absolutely not fair)
Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!plus size! reader
Warnings: smut, mentions of sex, oral (f receiving), Joel Miller, 18+ only, minors DNI
Sharing a smallish drabble/thotty abstract, if you will:
Ok, so maybe Joel has joined your family as your private chef. After all, your parents are SUPER rich, so they might as well look and feel the part.
You had to admit, he was worth every penny your mother was paying him. Not to mention he was easy going on the eyes, which made your mother glad; she would parade him around her lavish parties to the "cougars"/bored rich housewives, something which made your eyes roll.
Little did they know that the ever so charming Joel was a FREAK with a capital "F" in the sack.
You honestly don't even remember how it happened. A few conversations here and there, he had offered to teach you how to cook and bake; and those lessons were often plagued by thoughts of him bending you over and having his way with you, leaving you throbbing and wanting. If you didn't know any better, you could tell that it was affecting him too. His voice got huskier, eyes darkening every time he looked your way. It was a game of chicken, almost, how long either of you could keep the distance before the inevitable damn bursting.
You had once gone to "ask" him "a cooking doubt", and saw quite a sight indeed. Gone was the prim and proper Joel, with his neatly ironed and clean apron and immaculate dress shirts. His curly hair was mussed up, his shirt slightly untucked and his top buttons undone; he seemed to be engrossed in a video, hie eyebrows scrunched together as his fingers kneaded some dough, prepping for tomorrow's party. It was honestly like porn, the way his strong arms kneaded the dough, his thick fingers making you nearly drool. It took all your strength to walk away from there before you embarrassed yourself and begged him to throw you to the ground and pound you into the ground, no matter how desperate that sounded.
And it had happened finally. Another one of your parents' shindigs, and you found yourself bored out of your mind, only half listening to one of your mom's friend's son, whose one semester in London had "like, totally changed his life." Excusing yourself, you made your way to the kitchen, topping off your drink.
You saw him there, again, making small talk with Angela, one of your mom's friends who just wouldn't take a hint. You'd never seen Joel this tense and yet Angela seemed oblivious, throwing herself at him, her screeching laugh loud enough to wake the dead.
You took pity on the man and made up an excuse on his behalf, beckoning him to join you, picking up a few wedges of limes on the way, an idea forming in your mind. He bid Angela goodbye, hurriedly following you before she engaged any further.
"...Whyyy are we going to your room?" He asked bewildered, hesistant as he stood at the threshold.
You shrugged, "figured you could use a proper drink, not the shit downstairs." Taking out two shotglasses, you handed him a rather large shot of Hendricks, your drink of choice to get "classy-drunk".
You toast, downing the smooth liquid as it left a slight burn. Wincing, you pour another, his eyes widening at the pour.
"I'm technically on duty."
"And i'm technically meant to like all the guys my mom has shown me, but life doesn't work that way, does it?" You quipped, clearly goading him.
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One shot turned to two. Two to four. The party was long forgotten, the both of you pleasantly tipsy and unguarded. For the first time, it felt like Joel was opening up to you.
"If I didn't know any better, i'd say you were planning on getting me drunk, sweetheart." He drawled.
You smirked. Making your way towards him, you poured another shot, promising him it that it was the last one, and that he could go back to his job. He chuckled, knowing that he would a tough time walking to the kitchen, let alone serving the guests. Lucky that the crew took over for the rest of the night, huh?
Wincing, Joel blindly searched for the wedge of lime to soothe the burn. Opening his eyes, he saw your cheeky grin as you held the lime between your lips, challenging him to take the next step.
He nearly growled as he shuffled closer, your faces mere inches from one another. His fingers ghosted over your lips as he inched closer, his lips tasting the juice of the lime. Plucking the wedge from your lips, his mouth was on yours, urging you to open up for him. You groaned, tasting the citrusy hints of the gin along with the slight tang of the lime, your tongues weaving an intricate dance.
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While the party downstairs was loud and had taken a rather raucous turn, up in your room, the only noise you could hear was the sound of harsh grunts and panting breaths.
When your mom had first hired Joel, you didn't understand exactly why she did so, because the chef you'd had earlier was perfectly fine. Now, you couldn't thank her enough for hiring him.
Joel had you pinned to your bedroom door, as he ate you out enthusiastically. Pulling your thigh on his shoulder, he doubled down on his efforts to get you to come undone. Running your fingers through his beautiful curls, you tugged on them as his wonderful tongue worked its magic on your swollen nub. He hummed, circling his finger around your center, urging you on.
Pulling your other leg on his shoulder, he moved to pick you up. You were uncertain about this, but he was insistant, picking you up like you weighed nothing at all. He didn't stop his ministrations as he dropped you on her bed, continuing his amorous assault.
This display of strength had you clenching and reaching your end in no time, as you moaned loudly, yanking on his curls to ground yourself.
"Oh baby, keep doing that, don't stop." He moaned, as he made his way up your body, leaving small kisses and nips along your thighs, your belly. He reached your breasts, taking a swollen nub in his mouth and sucking enthusiastically.
Looking down, you saw one of the most erotic sights ever. Joel worshipping you, his curls a wild mess, his pristine white shirt damp with your release and with a few buttons undone, coming untucked out of his tight black pants.
You groaned. You needed him so badly it practically hurt. Reaching down, you palmed him through his pants, as he thrust himself into your wandering hands.
Pulling his erect length out of his pants, you panted as you worked him over, stroking him as he moved his hips in tandem with your hands. His harsh breaths as he groaned and grunted through gritted teeth turned you on like nothing else.
"I'm close, sweetheart." He managed to blurt out, as you increased the speed of your strokes, tongue moving along his already sensitive head. He pulled his length from your grasp as he worked himself to his climax, yelling out and cursing as he came all over your breasts.
You were mildly disappointed that he held back from fucking you; hell, you were sure he was going to finally take that step and put you through the mattress.
"Joel, I need you. Please." You begged, the need to feel him fill you up dangerously high. You sounded pathetic, sure, but you were beyond caring at this point.
Joel smirked, catching his breath.
"I have to get back sweetheart. Your mom would kill me if she didn't see me in the kitchen."
You couldn't hide your frown as you watched him neaten up, running a hair through his curls. Joel leaving you high and dry was not how you saw your plan panning out. He was about to leave as he turned back, made his way to you, holding your chin between his fingers.
"But I promise you, this isn't over. Not by a long shot." He breathed against your lips, leaving a small peck as he left, leaving you weak and wanting for more.
Silently seething, you began to plot your next steps. Joel Miller wouldn't know what hit him.
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Oh no i don't like it i don't think this is my best work but omg it's out there *runs and hides in a corner*
Will there be a part 2?? That's a great question. Honestly i think i could've done better so maybe i have a redemption arc as well lolol, who knows atp
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unholyhelbig · 2 months
Note
Your Oversight story is so amazing, I’m obsessed truly. I need some domestic fluff with Nat, reader, and Ronnie. Like making cookies for Ronnie’s class or something!!! Thank you for feeding my mafia boss obsession!
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Title: Little Marksman [An Oversight Oneshot]
Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff
Summary: Natasha's mother makes an impromtu visit to the United States, sending Natasha and Yelena into a sprial about how their mother will react to their partners.
Warnings(PLEASE READ): None, I think, just fluff!, and horrible grammar
[a/n: This isn't exactly the fluff you requested, but I think it's pretty fluffy! Thank you all for the oversight requests, I promise, I'll get to them soon!]
Check out the full Oversight universe
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven
Natasha Romanoff did not often allow herself to indulge in the simple things. Sleeping in had long been a thing of the past, she’d spring up at the first chirp of an alarm and spend her mornings in a ritual of freshly pressed coffee, a long run that would coat her in a sheen of sweat, and then finally sitting down to attend to the boring side of business.
That, of course, had changed when she welcomed you into her life. You were decidedly not a morning person and would grumble until you found her alarm clock in the dark, shutting it off and pinning Natasha down with your dead weight as you fell back into a deep slumber. She hadn’t the heart to move you.
Then, when Veronica had gotten her own room there were some nights when Natasha would stir from her vigilant sleep. She’d startle, really. Your daughter was mostly silent during the day and happened to be worse at night. She would stand at the bottom of the bed, contemplating waking you.
It only ever bothered you after you watched the ring for the first time. After that, you would sense her presence and it seemed like Natasha was the same. She sat up and blinked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
“Hi baby,” Natasha croaked, “are you alright?”
Natasha saw the silhouette of Ronnie shake her head and the woman looked sparingly at you. Light breathes escaped you, dead to the world. She heard the little word, barely a whisper. “Nightmare.”
It tugged at Natasha’s heart to the point where it was almost painful. She wanted to wrap her up that first night, pull her close until she wasn’t afraid of whatever had plagued her in her dreams. Tentatively, she scooted to the far side of the mattress and patted the space she’d created between the both of you.
Veronica snuggled under the blankets, shivering as her cold began to ebb away. Natasha felt stiff for a moment, lying on her back. She could feel your daughter’s body heat against her, and made the conscious choice not to move closer.
“You can talk about it, if you want.” She eventually whispered. “I’m here to listen, Ronnie, malen'kiy strelok.”
Little Marksman. Her father used to call Natasha the same, despite her not being the greatest shot. But, she was better than Yelena and that’s all the mattered at the moment. The term of endearment rolled off her tongue like honey and shocked her in the process.
Veronica didn’t say anything, she often didn’t, but she wrapped her tiny, strong arms around Natasha’s arm and buried her cheek into her, reveling in the close contact. She softened instantly and found herself staying awake until Ronnie’s breath evened out.
Neither her alarm, nor Ronnie stirred her this particular morning. Instead, it was a frantic knocking at her door. The sun streaming through the blinds indicated that she had been given the chance to sleep in, and if that wasn’t enough, you had left a little note on her side table: Get some sleep, I’ll handle the morning meetings. Love you!
It was close to noon, from her estimate, so you had kept up your end of the bargain. Natasha groaned into the silk pillow and pulled her way to the door. She glowered at the woman that stood on the other side.
“Did someone die?” Natasha grumbled, “Because you’re about to.”
“You are incredibly grumpy in the morning, has anyone ever told you that?”
Yelena shoved her way into the room. She was holding an envelope that had yet to be opened. There was a specific floral scent, almost like roses. Natasha crinkled her nose; she knew that smell. It had been a constant soothing presence throughout her childhood and beyond. Sometimes, she would walk into random rooms and catch a whisp of the spectral scent.
She snatched the envelope from her sister. It had already been crudely ripped, despite Natasha’s name being on it. This was a federal offense- but most of the stuff that this family did was, so it bothered her surprisingly little.
“Mama is coming for a visit.”
Yelena spilled the words out before Natasha could process the neat Russian writing. Her stomach dropped. Melina and Alexi had moved to a small far just outside of Moscow years ago. They stated that they wanted to get out of the city, but really, Alexi couldn’t keep his hands out of the business if they stayed in the city.
They would call every once and awhile, but were mostly solitary. She’d get a call on Christmas, and her birthday and sometimes the anniversary of her first kill. That one was hit or miss. Rarely- never- had Melina decided to drop by.
“I may have let it slip that you have a girlfriend.”
“Yelena!” Natasha shoved her roughly “Why would you do that?”
“It just came out! She was grilling me about Kate, and I panicked. You know yours is more put together than mine.”  
“You threw me under the bus.”
Yelena had a genuinely sad look on her face, one that was borderline pouty. Natasha growled through clenched teeth and finally got a chance to read her mother’s writing. She’d be here tomorrow, and there was too much to do. Natasha’s head started to spin.
In fact, you weren’t more put together than Kate. The two of you seemed to feed off of each other’s chaos. It was fine to deal with on a regular basis, but Melina was like a bloodhound. She would smell fear, and she would play into it until you both were reduced to a crushable size.
Oh, this was not good.
Natasha must have paled noticeably because Yelena took a tepid step closer, creasing her fingers against the empty pink envelope. Melina would be flying alone. She’d be here in two days and that didn’t give either girls much time to process the invasion at all.
Though her father was a stern man in practice, he was much easier to impress than her mother. They balanced one another out, and that was something that would be sorely missed during this visit.
She took a steadying breath, running her fingers over the dented familiarity of her mothers perfect script. There was nothing to worry about, right?
Despite Natasha’s multiple text messages to her mother, insisting that she would send a car to pick her up, Melina took a cab from the airport, not bothering to let either of her daughters in on the fact. She knew the address of her pervious home like the back of her hand, knew the deep green grass of the landscaping and the stretching view of the harbor.
Natasha had been pacing the length of the family room for most of the day. Yelena was draped over the loveseat, her limbs hanging over the sides, making her look nearly lanky compared to the furniture.
“Natasha, please, you are going to wear a hole in the carpet.”
“How can you be so calm?” She halted her pacing, cutting her sister a deadly look.
“I am not calm. I simply mask it better than you.”
The muffled sound of a car door closing made Yelena shoot up from her lounging position, she was standing next to Natasha now, both of them staring wildly at the large oak doors. You and Kate had been sent out with a massive grocery list and it was much too early for the two of you to return with Ronnie. In fact, you usually stopped for some ice cream, or a small lunch as a reward for the tiny girl.
Natasha deemed it better not to inform you, nor Kate, about her mother’s visit. It could be considered cruel, sure, but knowing you the warning would do nothing but send you into an immense panic and that would simply spur her mother on.
Melina had arrived with nothing more than a half-packed duffel bag. She always packed light, using the key on her ring to open the door to the place that was once her home. Natasha and Yelena lingered by the curved entryway, watching as the woman, perfectly sculpted and entirely unchanged, smiled softly at the décor.
“Do not just stand there, girls, come give mama a hug.”
It was an order that Yelena folded in on first. She was stiff at first but at the floral scent that her mother carried like a vice, she melted into the embrace. There was nothing like a  mothers hug, and that was evident by her body language.
“Aw, sweet girl” Melina pulled back and squished Yelena’s face between her hands “you are much too lean. Is this Kate girl not feeding you?”
“Mama, prekrati eto” She grumbled, batting the woman away.
Melina narrowed her eyes but focused her attention on her oldest daughter. She grasped both of her hands first, giving them a small squeeze before pulling her into her embrace. Natasha melted, pressed her nose against the side of her mother’s neck. It had been much too long, and despite being reduced to a little girl in this moment, she didn’t seem to mind.
“You’ve healed nicely,” Melina said.
Of course, her mother had heard about the two shots that Natasha took to the back. She had been lucky and avoided any major injury. They were simply superficial, but she could understand how it would sound brutal all the same.
“Now,” she clapped her hands together, getting a devilish look in her eye “where is my granddaughter?”
Natasha choked on air before she glared at Yelena with a look that could kill. Her mother’s hand was patting her back. She’d become tender with age, it seemed. Still, a force to be reckon with, Natasha wouldn’t dare try anything.
“Your granddaughter?”
“Please, Natalia, she sleeps in your bed. Marriage or not, she’s your child. That’s how we got Clint, isn’t it?”
She was at a loss for words. Melina had a point. Clint was a mere stranger to Natasha until her parents took both her and Yelena to the circus that traveled through town. Her younger sister was nothing more than a baby, but Natasha was mystified. More than the clowns, and the acrobats, she had interest in the knife thrower and his charge.
A little boy that was around the same age as Natasha. When the show was over, Natasha refused to move until the young boy, covered in dirt and with dark purple bags under his eyes, started to sweep piles of popcorn and empty paper cups to the sidelines.
She’d introduced herself, and though he was quiet, she took an instant liking to him. Alexi had a few choice words with the boys guardian, who turned out, didn’t want to keep the kid and regarded him as nothing more than an employee- a runaway that had latched onto the circus. He had no idea who the boy belonged to, and Alexi decided that Clint belonged to them, now.
Instead of Clint being like family, he was family.
“Oh Mama, she will marry this girl.” Yelena beamed, “titles be damned.”
Natasha groaned into her hands. Had she thought about marriage? Yes, absolutely. She wanted nothing more than to make you officially hers. But she wanted to wait until the perfect moment; she wanted to not only include Ronnie, but get her input as well.
Melina gave a beautiful smile, patting Natasha’s cheek “I know, moya milaya. Are you not going to show me to my room?”
It was apparent that you and Kate had been sent on a fools errand when you finally got to the store and got a better look at the handwritten list that you were given: Milk, eggs, bread, A single MTS-I Mortorq screw, VW Mk4 Golf R32 duel clutch plate- and seriously, what the hell was that?
Darcy would know, and would have caught on a lot faster than you or Kate did. The more you thought about it, the more you realized that there was no reason to go to the store at all. You’d gone two days prior and knew for a fact that you’d gotten everything recognizable on the list.
“Kid,” Kate gave Ronnie’s had a squeeze “we’ve been played, bamboozled, tricked.”
Your daughter lifted an eyebrow at the woman’s antics. In a few years, she’d move on to eye rolling, and while you weren’t prepared for it, you would be glad for the indication. You’d done it yourself, crumpling up the list and shoving it into your pocket. There was no need to brave the crowds in the grocery store.
Instead, you aimed your sights on the small frozen yogurt place that was nestled in between a shoe store and a Gamestop. You might as well get a treat while you were out, considering Natasha requested you go further than the closest store because she liked the bread at this one better.
“They clearly wanted us out of the house. But why?”
“Yelena usually tells me everything.”
“Huh,”
“What? She does!”
“Doesn’t seem like the type.”
A sweet frozen scent hit your lungs and the little bell above the door sounded. There was a less than enthusiastic employee behind the counter, moving like molasses. You did have to kill time…apparently.
Veronica spoke up when dessert was involved. She didn’t carry a conversation with the teenager, but she did give little indicating sounds. Your arms were crossed over your chest to stave off the cold, and you settled for a simple chocolate. Ronnie loaded hers with a bunch of toppings, and Kate got vanilla with extra (extra) rainbow sprinkles. Each bite she took crunched like gravel.  
“The point is, she didn’t say anything about something going down, and if it was, wouldn’t they want us there? Clint’s out of town so we’re the only muscle they’ve got.”
The employee behind the counter lifted an eyebrow at you both and you made sure to stick an extra couple of bills in the tip jar with a sheepish smile. You ushered them both to one of the benches outside, basking in the highpoint of the sun and cursing Kate’s tact, or lack thereof.
“You’ve got a point. Maybe it’s something personal?” You suggested, reaching your pink plastic spoon over and stealing a bite of Ronnie’s candy-coated yogurt. She batted you away, a little too slow and you claimed your prize.
“Yelena tells me-“
“Everything, I know.”
Kate took her own scoop of frozen yogurt and crunched on it thoughtfully. “They’re nervous. If they’re being this secretive. They sent us out for car parts for a car that none of us own.”
“Lena said that Mama is coming for a visit.”
Ronnie’s feet didn’t’ touch the ground and she was working at dislodging a frozen gummy bear that became mostly inedible. She kicked back and forth and only looked up from her task when she was met with silence.
Kate’s mouth was propped open, and your eyes were wide. She frantically glanced between the both of you and shrugged her little shoulders. “This is one of those things I’m supposed to tell you, right?”
Kate nodded, suddenly losing her appetite “Uh-huh,”
You’d heard about Melina before, in passing, but Natasha seemed to bristle about the woman. She did the same for her father, but you knew the legends of Alexi and his kind hand when it came to running the city. Her mother was entirely different; entirely horrifying.
You’d seen a picture of her in a small and dusty shoe-box while helping Natasha clean out the attic one day last summer. It was stiflingly hot, and you were shocked to find it framed, but shoved away all the same.
Natasha was young, maybe around eleven, and Clint was next to her, smiling with missing front teeth. Yelena was smaller, the large hands of Alexi engulfing her shoulders. And then there was Melina, even in casual cargo shorts and striped tank-top, she looked regal and oh-so intimidating.
Your girlfriends’ arms wrapped around her midsection, her chin resting on your shoulder. She gave you a squeeze and stared down at the photo you were holding.
“You were cute as a kid.”
“were?”
“Still are!” you corrected, smiling lazily down at the family photo.
There was something longing behind your gaze that Natasha admired. Not that she would tell you that. Instead, she told you about the trip to Busche Gardens that ended in Clint nearly drowning and Yelena throwing up after she scarfed down three corndogs and a funnel cake.
Now you felt like you would vomit yourself, sliding your frozen yogurt away with a frown. You were far from prepared to meet Melina Romanoff, and by the green look on Kate’s face, so was she.
“Oh, we are so fuc… screwed. We’re screwed.”
“I know the word fuck, mommy says it all the time.”
“Just because I say it doesn’t mean you can. Eat your yogurt.”
You were clearly having a crisis and Veronica was clearly enjoying the fact that you’d given up on your frozen yogurt. She took alternating bites and would most definitely lose her appetite if she kept going, but you couldn’t’ bring yourself to push it away.
“Why wouldn’t they tell us?” you asked.
“Probably because of this” Kate made a vague gesture “this who panicking thing? Melina is going to kill us both and then it won’t matter but they decided to spare us the torture of waiting for this day.”
It felt like slowly working a mouse away from a glue trap by the time your frozen yogurt had turned to nothing but a brown soup. There was nothing to hold you and Kate from home now, and Ronnie was growing restless under the hand of the sun. You swore you heard her mutter something about Grandma, but chose to ignore it entirely in favor for pure fear.
Natasha seemed to be waiting at the door to intercept both you before you went any further. Not that you minded her soothing hand on your chest, and an apologetic look in her eyes. She smoothed your shirt down once, and then nervously, twice.
“Sweetie, I don’t think it’ll un-wrinkle, no matter how hot your hands are.”
“See that,” She whispered harshly, “Is something we’re not going to do. Both of you need to be on your best behavior. Understood? Better than best. Kate maybe don’t… talk.”
“Aye, captain.”
The younger woman frowned at her own words and instead settled for miming zipping her lips shut. Maybe it would better for you not to talk either. From your spot in the foyer, with Ronnie clinging to the fabric of your jeans, you could hear the muffled Russian. Yelena was responding to something, a bit of a whining tone to her voice.
Natasha’s hands had made their way to yours. She knit them together, a sort of an anchor. The other hand reached down to Ronnie, who was suddenly shy despite her earlier indifference. You could throw up right here and now but figured that would only serve to embarrass you further.
There was a clear similarity between Melina and Natasha; the high cheek bones, the striking green gaze, the flawless skin. She held the same cold stare that her daughter did but could hide her emotions better than your girlfriend. A stone dropped in your stomach under her gaze.
Natasha squeezed your hand tighter, her thumb on your pulse point. The pad of her finger ran over it gently, assuredly. She knew you were horrified. Kate gulped (which to her credit, was technically not talking, but was still painfully audible.)
Melina had a knife in her hand, a half-carved apple resting between she and Yelena like a peace offering. There were differences in the cuts, one smoother, the other more practiced. This family found leisure activity in carving techniques.
Natasha warned in a breath “Bud' milym, mama.”
Her mother didn’t heed the warning. Instead, she closed the difference between you. Yelena instinctively tightened her grip on the kitchen knife, not that she’d ever use it. Melina scrutinized you for what seemed like years, but was only a few ticking seconds.
“Ona khoroshen'kaya”
“spasibo, Miss Romanoff”
“ah, you know Russian?”
“Yelena has been teaching me.” You swallowed the dryness in your throat as her raised eyebrow lowered to something less intimidating. “Ma’am.”
“Manners too. Maybe you can teach my Natalia something or two about that.”
You felt you cheeks heat up and you diverted your eyes to the floor. It had directed the attention in the room to the small girl clinging to your leg as if it were a piece of beached driftwood and she were fighting against the raging currents.
Melina knelt down in front of your daughter, her rigid stance loosening until she looked more like a mother than yourself. She was soft in this moment, the sun hitting her eyes in a way that made them glow supernaturally.
“Hi, Malen'kiy strelok”
Natasha parted her lips, as if to inform her mother that Veronica didn’t speak much, if at all. She’d gotten better, sure, but it was nearly stagnant with new people. Ronnie studied Melina as the woman had studied you.
“What does that mean?” Ronnie asked, her grip lessening.
Melina smiled “Little marksman. From what I hear, your mother has a very good aim. Do you?”
“I don’t know yet. Kate says I do.”
“Well, I’m sure we will find out in due time, milaya devushka.” She tentatively tucked a strand of hair behind Ronnie’s ear before standing again and focusing her attention on Kate. Kate who had paled at least ten shades and was sweating despite the air conditioning in the house.
Yelena straightened up herself, giving a silent warning with her stare. Of course, Kate didn’t’ see it like you and Natasha did, her arm having moved from your hand to your hip bone in the quiet approval from her mother. She’d relaxed significantly.
“Hi,” Kate squeaked out and Yelena stifled a groan put massaged her temple.
Melina seemed to look to Natasha for confirmation: This is the one she chooses?
With you, there was merit. There were callouses on your hands and scars that hardened under the fabric of your shirt. Kate was much of the same, though, she showed it in a nervous, fluttering type of way that presented outwardly as fumbling and awkward.
“Krasivo, no... puglivo. Like deer.” Melina offered a small smile to the girl and her breath seemed to release.
Skittish. Kate was certainly that, but she seemed to balance out Yelena with the perfect amount of caring and heart. Melina was nothing, if not vigilant. She clapped her hands together, that small smile turning into a large grin. “You all must eat something, you look starving. And Natasha, you are slouching, don’t’ slouch in front of your daughter. Those bad manners.”
“Mama, I am not slouching.”
Natasha groaned as the tension in the room broke. Her forehead pushed against your cheek. Veronica dragged Kate over to the kitchen island by the hand and instruction on the proper way to carve pieces from an apple began, much to Yelena’s huffing dismay.
Hands shifted from your hips, finding the two back pockets of your jeans. “She likes you,”
“I would be dead by now if she didn’t.”
“Yeah, right when you walked through the door.”
The two of you chuckled, her nose nudging against yours. “She called Ronnie your daughter.”
“I’m sorry, dorogoy, she pushes. She means well.”
You pressed a small kiss to the corner of her mouth, words a light whisper “don’t apologize. I like the sound of it.”
Before Natasha could collect her thoughts, her rush of pure emotion, you had pulled away from her and joined the rest of the family around the kitchen island. Though she couldn’t hear exactly what was being said, Natasha was more than content standing in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest.
Her heart pounded fondly.  
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kadwrites · 9 months
Text
a man with a reputation | T.S
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read the next part
or check out the series masterlist
summary ; you cannot talk your way out of this , for the first time in your life, you're given no choice.
warnings ; angst, cursing, mild violence i guess??? , arranged marriage trope.
a/n ; maybe i'll turn this into a series? who knows, let me know what you think <3. also the accent is a mess, but im trying.
_
"no!" your eyes are wide , glassy with anger filled tears "i will not be treated like some piece of land."
"would you listen? your father and i are thinking of your future." you mother is looking at you with a stern face, sitting beside your father as you stand in front of them
"what future do you think i'll 'ave with thomas fucking shelby?" you raise your voice
"do not speak to me like that , i am your mother."
"we're old, i'm sick with god knows how many illnesses." your father speaks, his cane in his hand as he leans against it, still on the sofa
"don't start with that talk" you shake your head with a chuckle, you sniffle and turn your head away
"i don't know if i'll live another day , i am too sick to work, too sick to care for the farm, there is nothing left for me to give you" he speaks slowly with a serious voice, and it makes your heart sink "this isn't a joke or some game, i've survived the war and lived long enough to see all of you grow , but i know that my time is near, i cannot risk dying and leaving you with nothing"
your father never spoke to you like that, he was always jovial , happy.
it seems like it hits you for the first time, how much your parents have aged, how much the illness took from your father, how his sicknesses have changed him.
"celest got to marry who she chose and so did oliver and so did abraham, but i don't get to do that? i dont get to choose my own husband?" your tears start falling, your voice cracks
"i need to know you'll be taken care of , that you'll be in good hands when im dead and gone."
"and you think his hands are the good hands you speak of?" you cant help the humorless smile that graces your face, hot tears stain your cheek "you can't be serious"
"he is the most feared man in birmingham," your mother chimes in
"you are willing to sell your daughter! to some gangster!" you raise your voice again
your mother stands and faces you
"i am not selling you off, i am securing you a future, with a wealthy man, who can give you everything you can possibly want. you'll live like royalty" her words come through gritted teeth "i am not giving you away to some old pig, you're marrying a respectable man, a man with a reputation."
"a reputation? don't you know what 'appened to his first wife ? you are securing me a grave" you come nose to nose with your mother, both of you almost vibrating in anger "you are killing me is what you're doing, you're selling me off to the highest bidder"
the next thing you hear is the sound of your mother's palm against your cheek, the sound of the slap echos throughout the empty house, your head is turned, your cheek stings
your parents never laid a hand on you, even as a rebellious teenager when they caught you sneaking out the window or smoking on the roof.
your head turns slowly, eyes wide as you look at your mother, she looks mortified at her own actions,
you turn and run off and up the stairs to your room, hearing your father yell at your mother for what shes done.
at some point during the night, you had fallen asleep, but not for long. you were awake when the sun rose, your back pressed against your bed frame, looking ahead at the painting on the wall, it was a family portrait, and you were sitting on your father's lap.
you knew your sister was here when you heard the sounds of her five children, running around the house.
she knocks softly but doesn't bother to wait for an answer when she opens the door after a few seconds, she walks slowly, and sees you on the bed.
your eyes stuck on the portrait , your face almost emotionless, your tears have dried and stained your cheeks, she wonders for how long you cried, your back against the wood of the bed frame, no pillow thrown in her direction for waking you up, no annoyed words saying "you couldn't fucking come in the afternoon?" . the curtains are parted, letting the light in, which is very unusual for you.
you hear the bed creek under her weight when she gets on it, laying next to you
"i heard about yesterday" she says softly, her head turned to look at you
you only glance at her , but your head doesn't turn, then you look back at the portrait
"they're doing this for you, they want whats best for you." she's not sure if it is you she's trying to reassure you or herself , this wasn't ever supposed to happen.
her little sister was supposed to marry a man she wanted, a simple man, a man capable of love
you hum, or you make a sound at least , acknowledging her.
"he isn't all that bad, you know."
a weak chuckle escapes you at her words "in what world is thomas shelby not a bad person?" your voice is hoarse , from screaming and crying all night long no doubt.
"he can give you a good life."
"ya 'ave a good life don't you? with the man you chose, the man you love." your gaze doesn't move, still staring at the painting "its not fair, you lot got to be happy, and i don't."
"ya don't know that." her voice is full of sympathy or maybe pity, you didn't want to know.
you finally turn to your sister, "do you honestly think that i can be happy with 'im ?"
your sister hesitates , she licks her lips "he's a powerful man."
you chuckle at that too "that tends to 'appen when you're a gangster."
"i tried with them, i really did." her voice is weak too, it cracks.
your eyes well with tears again, you didn't know you could even cry anymore "i know..." your voice is a whisper
you knew she'd be against it, she wouldn't agree, maybe oliver would tell you to consider it, abraham would too, just to please your father.
but celest wouldn't
"what are ya goin' to do?" she whispers back, her tears start rolling too
"what can i do?" you ask "i dont 'ave any other choice"
she looks at you as if she didn't expect that. you were always stubborn, always talking your way out of anything you didn't want, you always got your way with your parents, thats what she taught you.
but this time, you don't want to fight back.
"you're goin' through with it?"
"i cant live knowing i disobeyed my father's dying wish."
your father was sick, and getting worse everyday. you were a stubborn woman, but the little girl inside of you couldn't bear to disobey her father.
celest wraps an arm around your shoulder, holding you to her chest, her hands runs up and down your arm , like she did when abraham would bother you to tears, or when oliver wouldn't let you play with him.
"at least he's easy on the eyes, eh?" she tries desperately to lighten the mood, her lips pressed to your forehead
" hes old." you say with a weak laugh
"hes older, not old." she corrects, with a laugh too.
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lixiesbrowniess · 1 year
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Helloooo, I would firstly like to say that I absolutely adore your writing 🥰🥰 and secondly, I have a request. Could you do a one shot (smut) with Ao’nung x human reader. The human reader came with the Sully’s and, of course, Ao’nung doesn’t like her. One day he finds the reader trying on different Metkayina clothing that his sister made for her and he’s interested in her human anatomy. I think he would be gentle with her as he’s much bigger and doesn’t want to hurt her. The rest is up to you. 💘
Oh my lorddd thank youuu!!! You shall receive it little one
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Oneshot: You're so beautiful I hate you
Ao'nung x fem!human!reader
Words count: 3.8k
Warnings: nsfw, size kink, p in v, bulge kink, aged up characters 18+, gentle sex, Dom/Sub dynamic, penetration, horny stuff, cursing, enemies to lovers, sexual attraction, sexual tension
Aged up to 22 [after the summary]
Na'vi vocabulary: Skxawng: moron, Mawey: calm down, Tawtute: sky person, tsahey: oh crap/oh hell, Awa'atlu: name of the Metkayina village, Pongu Pongu: Na'vi drink (with and without alcohol), Tsaheylu: the act of connecting na'vi's braids
Synopsis: You're Norm Spellman's daughter and after spider has been captured you had to go with the Sully's leaving your still in progress Avatar body there in your father's lab. [Neteyam won't be dead here]
A/N: i had so much fun writing this i swearrr. I was blushing and kicking my legs.
Follow the don't like don't read rule please - minors DNI
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Summary: "Are we there yet?" Tuk whined hugging Neytiri's arm. "No not yet Tuk" her mother said brushing her hair with her hand, "we'll be there soon sweetie now rest". Neytiri planted a kiss onto her daughter's head. You were flying on the Ikrans from the past morning. It was exausting. Since you didn't have a Ikran you had to fly with Lo'ak. Of course you two kept teasing each other and you risked falling at least two times. "Lo'ak would you stop? C'mon bro I don't wanns fall." you hissed him as he tickeld you for the fourth time "You're a skxawng Lo'ak" you heard Neteyam yell from above you. "Ok ok fine" he said taking his hands off your waist. You sighed in relief thanking Neteyam from afar. "Boys stay concentrated." you heard Jake yell from the front "we're almost there" he muttered as you passed by three huge rocks. After that you were too stunned to say anything. Enchanted by the beauty of the teal ocean beneath you. As long as you landed you were surronded by others na'vi, oh how you wished you had your avatar body right now. You felt so tiny, a lot of them hissed and growled at you making you regret for a moment the choice to follow the Sullys. Neteyam, Kiri and Lo'ak kept you between them, avoiding any consequences. "Are those supposed to be tails?" you heard some boys joking about the Sullys looks. "How are they supposed to swim?" one chuckled frendly elbowing his taller friend. A girl Who apparently popped out of nowhere slapped his arm. "Do not. Rotxo, Ao'nung" she stopped the two boys. You smiled at her kindness but those two still laughed at something pointing at Kiri, you couldn't help but say something "In fact we do not swim skxawng" you hissed at them. For a moment it looked like they were surprised to see a sky person talking na'vi, but that soon faded. "And what's a tawtute doing here?" The taller on teased, an evil smirk spreading on his face. You were about to say something when everyone went quiet, a man came riding a really strange mount. As soon as he landed you all greeted him following Jake's move. "We seek Uturu. A sanctuary for our family" you heard Jake conversing with the Olo'eyktan and the Tsahìk of the Metkayina. You noticed the Tsahìk walking towards you, Lo'ak and Kiri. You tried to ignore the pressure and hide from her gaze while she exposed them just for having an extra finger. You obviusly failed when you felt a big ass hand dragging you at the center of attention and almost lifting you from the floor. "You even brought a demon in here!" she exclaimed assuring that everyone could see your little figure. That caused Kiri and Lo'ak to hiss at her, Kiri grabbed your other arm, careful not to hurt you, trying to pull you away from her grasp. Jake stepped in as you struggled to get your poor arm out of the steel grip that woman had on you. "Mawey, Mawey! Ronal, I assure you she's not a treat. Her father helped me fighting the sky people when I was Toruk Makto" That word had a great effect on every one for the second time. She finally released you and walked back to stand behind her mate. He was a lot more serene than her, his voice calm as he spoke "You are forest people your skills will mean nothing here." "We'll learn your ways, we will make ourselves useful. right?" Jake said looking at us we nodded in agreement still not very convinced. After exchanging a few glances the Olo'eyktan and the Tsahìk agreed to let us join their clan. "From now on Jake Sully and his family will be our brothers and sisters. Treat them like ones, teach them our ways so they won't suffer the guilt of being useless." He announced "My son Ao'nung and my daughter Tsireya will educate your children". Oh. oh. That was the chief's son you hissed back to... Tsahey. "Father why-" Ao'nung started to complain "It is decided." his father interrupted him. "Come! I will show you the village." Tsireya looked a lot happier than his brother, at the idea of tutoring us.
Time skip - your lab arrives
The helicopter had landed carrying the lab your father sent you. Max came out of it greeting you. “Hi Y/n I brought you the lab!" He yelled trying to drown out the noise of the helicopter blades.
"Thank you Max!" You yelled back hugging him. He was like a uncle to you. As soon as the helicopter was turned off he rummaged in his briefcase. You were going to sleep there while you waited for your avatar body.
"I brought even a new prototype of the oxygen mask, you can drink and eat even outside the lab." Your jaw dropped "Really??" You jumped happily. It was the first time a prototype could afford such a thing.
"let's go inside I'll show you how to use it" You went inside the box to try the new mask.
"We'll be good here" Jake said looking around the marui. "I think it's pretty" you sang happily entering the marui.
-ˋˏ♡┈┈┈┈
A lot of time has passed from the day you arrived at Awa'atlu. You had fitted quite well in the village. Sure, not everyone liked you but many had started to treat you like their sister. Especially Tsireya, she loved you. She often asked about human life, how your body worked and a lot of science things about you and your avatar body. Yes you told her about the body you'll be having anytime soon. You wished.
Ao'nung liked teasing you a lot and it's not like you could do something about it. Jake wanted no trouble. That was your mantra. "If you think you're one of us you're wrong little one" he would say occasionally "just go back to your planet" this was less usual but still used.
You tried to act like you didn't care, but it was so hard to ignore it. You decided to avoid him and that worked cause you managed to keep him away for two straight weeks, you were really close to organize a party about it.
Today you were invited to Tsireya's marui. It was you, her and Kiri. Just three besties having fun for one entire night. It sounded really great so you agreed very happily.
When you arrived to her marui Kiri was already there "Y/n! You're late!" they both exclaimed as they saw your tiny figure entering the hut. "Yeeah sorry about that, had to finish some things" you said rolling your eyes.
"But no more work now, let's have funn" Kiri chuckled at your feisty attitude "the boys should be at their secret spot so we have my brothers marui all for us!" Tsireya screamed in excitiment. Yes she always talked to you about how big and beautiful Ao'nungs marui was since he moved in it. You weren't completly sure it was safe but still you wanted your revenge so why not.
"And he has Pongu pongu! With alcohol!" Kiri turned to you after announcing it. "And you are gonna try it for sure!" they said in unison before grabbing your arm and dragging you with them.
You looked around carefully all the way up to the famous hut. "C'mon!" Tsireya opened the flap signaling to come in. You and Kiri ran to her and went inside. Tsireya locked the flap to the wooden frame. "Is this really a good-" you muttered looking around "-idea..." turns out Re'ya was right. Ao'nungs marui was breath taking.
"Wow" Kiri whispered looking around. Re'ya just stood there, hands on her hips looking satisfied by yours and Kiris reaction. "Told ya." She said heading were she knew her brother kept the Pongu pongu.
Who would have thought that Ao'nung was so tidy? The decor was so aesthetic, with woven shells hanging from the fabric ceiling, rattling whenever the wind had the chance to enter.
"Found it! C'mon let's drink." You heard Tsireya calling as she found a big jar between all the spears. Kiri pulled out three shallow cups that she had taken from her father and gave one to each of us. "All right, cheersss!!" and with that the drinking night begun.
"Oh Y/n I- *hiccups* I have something for you!" Tsireya staggered forward towards you, she got up and went near the entrance. "Here it is!" *hiccups* she exclaimed raising her arm in the air showing the little clothing she was holding in her hand. "I've made a woven loincloth and a macramè top for you!" She happily jumped handing you the clothing.
"You- *hiccups* shouldn't have Re'ya!" You chuckled admiring her work. "C'mon try it on!" Tsireya cheered "oh yeah go Y/n! Put it on!!" Kiri shouted. "I-I don't know... Should I?" You asked looking at the pretty iridescent shells all over it.
"Fuck yeah you should!" They both exclaimed. You gave in and took off your previous clothing putting on the ones Tsireya gave you. As soon as you finished you did a pirouette, giggling at the light clink of shells.
"Oh Eywa. You look stunning Y/n!" Kiri said as Re'ya agreed nodding her head. "You think?" you asked slightly embarassed. "Of course! I bet you could even fascinate some of the boys" It was Kiris turn to agree in silence as Tsireya elbowed you lightly making you chuckle.
"C'mon Y/n dance!" Tsireya started to tap a rhythm with her hands and tail, "yeah dance!" Kiri chuckled doing the same rhythm. You daced and risked to fall four times as the alcohol had already kicked into your blood making your heart pump faster, adrenaline raising.
All seemed fine until you all heard a confused exclamation coming from the entrance.
"What the fuck!?" Ao'nung's voice roared in the whole hut causing averything to go silent. You, on the other side, had stopped, trying to balance on one leg but falling down miserably.
His eyes wandered around his house and especially on your body, your little body barely covered and showing almost everything, then his eyes darted to his sister and Kiri. He stormed to them lifting them up by their arms "I remember I told you NOT to enter my marui.!" he yelled dragging them outside.
You had to admit you've never saw him so serious, neither so angry. You didn't know if you were scared or attracted to him. "I know, I'm sorry brother" Tsireya said chuckling while he dragged her and Kiri out.
She climbed on him screaming and laughing and as he tried to get her off she removed the string that was holding up his hair letting them fall all over his back. "Tsireya! You drinked Pongu pongu! Oh Eywa you can't drink it yet, it's alcohol!" he said exasperated "Dad is gonna kill us." he face palmed himseflf before turning to you.
"And you-" he walked up to you, his long black curls swinging left and right; lifted you by your waist and hold you up to his face. Yeah, you just discovered, that his hand was big enough to hold your whole waist. He stopped for a moment eying you up and down, then he spoke "Cover yourself. I can see everything" he said walking out and placing you down.
He the entered his marui and closed the flap. You were left spechless. Still processing his HAIR, still processing his HAND and still processing he just admitted he saw your whole body.
As for him, he thought about your body all night long and didn't get some sleep. He really didn't expected to found you out of his door right the next morning.
Time skip - that morning
Your ears rung, you heard a lot noise and youl felt a pair of hands shaking you trying to wake you up. Your head was spinning, you slowly opened your eyes and rubbed them.
"Thanks to Eywa! Tought you were dead." The blurred figure spoke standing and towering over your curled up body. You hummed supporting your head with your hand. "Oww, did a Tsurak ran over me?" you muttered sitting up and blinking till the blurr faded.
"No it's the Pongu pongu you drank yesterday" Your eyes shot open as you finally reconized the voice. You looked at him still having the worst headache ever. He must've noticed cause he grinned at you "I don't think a human can handle na'vi alcohol as good as us." he spat mockingly.
You rolled your eyes "Listen Ao'nung, I'm sorry for what happened in your hut yesterday, we..." you stopped remembering what you actually did "uhm..." you looked to your clothes and discovering you had the macrame and woven clothing Tsireya weaved for you.
"You ate your tongue?" he tilted his head at your silence. You remembered what he said about your clothing and jumped covering your upper parts with your arms.
"Well i can't leave you here" he mumbled "Not like that" he lifted you with his arm and took you inside his marui. You were embarrassed to be wearing that.
You liked it of course, it was gorgeous, but you felt so naked right now, in front of the Olo'eyktan son. He sat you on the woven mat. He never treated you like that. It was the first time he was with you and still didn't throw any insult to you.
"I know it's sudden but I want to ask you a few things." He spat feisty. You blinked looking at him "W-what" you asked waiting for him to just spit it out, while admiring his face.
Yeah that alcohol must've been really strong because you were starting to find him attractive. His lips while he spoke, his adam apple bobbing every time he swallowed, his aquamarine eyes locking to yours.
"Are you even listening?" He asked awaking you from your trance, you looked at him biting your lower lip and raising your eyebrows questioning him.
He smirked slyly getting closer to your face and gently tapping on your mask "you can't breath without this right?" He asked tilting his head, still with that damn smile adorning his face.
"That'sー correct." You quickly answered trying to increase the distance between you two. "Then why aren't you breathing?" He whispered stopping you from getting away from him and pulling you closer.
You were inches from each other's, you could see your mask fogging up every time he exhaled. "Do you know your stretching limits?" His smile never faltered as he spoke. You blushed furiously at his question as you opened and closed your mouth like a goldfish.
You gulped as you felt his hands sneaking around you waist "how are you so small?" he mumbled looking up and down your body. What's going on? why was he so intrested in your human anatomy. "You're the big one!" you blurted out.
He put pressure on your lower belly causing you to gasp lightly, you were being pushed down until your back was in full contact with the woven mat, he hovered over you making you look even smaller.
"Your reproductive system works like ours right?" he took a handful of your hair inhaling your scent. "Just without tsaheylu" he finished his sentence before licking your neck, you yelped at the sudden move pushing him from the chest trying to push him away.
"W-what are you doing!? are you crazy?!!" you screamed feeling the blood rushing to your cheeks. He smirked again grabbing your wrists with one hand, while the other one clutched around your neck softly "just stop fighting and answer my questions" He pierced holes in your eyes as he stared into them.
You squirmed trying to get free from his grasp, your heart started racing as he leaned toward you. You clasped your hands around the wrist of the hand that was around your neck "Iー do not know my stretching limits." you muttered squinting your eyes whishing that would make him stop.
He did stop for a mere second before whispering into your little ear "Guess we're about to find out." You felt heat pooling in your abdomen causing you to feel wrongly horny.
You could feel your body wanted it, but you knew it was just so wrong. You still squirmed as he took the woven loincloth off of you, his breath fanned on your mask as he freed your neck from his grasp placing his hand onto your thigh.
He lightly squeezed it observing your reaction. Your lips were slightly parted and your hot breath fanned onto the mask. You reflexively tried to close your legs just to be stopped by him.
His hand went lower finding your heated core. His touch ghosted onto your clit making you bite your lower lip. "I think it's better if I use my fingers first." he whispered lining his fingers to your leaking entrance.
You jolted as he started to push two digits inside of you, a filthy moan left your lips as he plunged his fingers deep inside you. You felt them brushing on your cervix. "So warmー" he started to breathe heavily, you felt his dick slowly getting hard against your thigh.
He began to pump his fingers inside you causing a pleasure you never felt, you closed your eyes abandoning yourself to his touch, you felt a knot forming in your core. His fingers sped up scissoring you, causing a loud moan to leave your throat.
You arched your back as you felt him add another finger, fucking his three digits into your pussy, you squirmed as the stretch felt painful. His thumb glued to your clit as he noticed.
The pain slowly changed to pleasure again, you called out his name as you felt his fingers deliciously hitting your sweet spot "I-I'mー" you whimpered, your walls clenched around his digits as the knot started tightening.
He pulled his fingers out right when you were at the edge of your orgasm, you cried in frustration as your walls clenched around nothing. "Don't worry little one." he muttered removing his loincloth, letting his rock hard cock slapping against his stomach "I'm right here" he scanned your face as his smirk widened.
He spread your legs and pulled them, lowering your knees till they touched your sides. Your breath hitched when he adjusted himself between your legs.
He lined his tip to your hole causing you to tremble softly. "No worries baby, I'll make it work" he tried to assure you as he rubbed your thighs with his thumb.
You were scared. Your father actually told you not to have a sexual act with a Na'vi unless you had your avatar body. It could've been dangerous, not fatal of course but still not a good idea.
"Wanna establish a safe word?" You looked at him with your already watering eyes. He released your wrists letting your little hand grip his shoulders. You nodded slowly and whispered it to him. "Alright, scream it if it's too much okay?" You nodded again.
He started pushing his hips forward watching as your cunt slowly swallowed his tip, you groaned at the stretch. "It hurtsー" you yelped softly, feeling your cunt spreading in attempt to adapt to his size. "It's gonna be fineー" he murmured leaning his forehead onto your shoulder.
He kept pushing until he felt himself bottoming you out. Your cries were melodic to his ears. Little less than half of his shaft could still see the light. "A little more" he growled breathless as he rolled his hips gently, managing to make your cunt engulf another bit of his dick.
He moved his hand onto the big bulge that formed on your lower belly gently pressing on it. You moaned loudly, holding yourself to his shoulders as you felt him shift deep inside you.
He started moving slowly, waiting for your pussy to get used to him inside you. His hands reached your breasts and started to knead them causing you to whimper. He felt your walls slowly relaxing around his girth "alrightー here we go."
He slowly pulled out, till only his tip was left inside, then thrusted back in hitting your sweet-spot making your legs tremble in his grip. He threw his head back, feeling you clench around his hardness like your life depended on it.
His thrusts increased in speed as he fucked himself inside you, making you scream his name in pleasure. Tears soaked your whole face, you couldn't stop the moans coming out of your throat. He pulled you to meet his pelvis, gripping your tiny waist.
His thrusts were steady and strong, his hips rolled deliciously into yours, rhythmically hitting your cervix and g-spot, making you wince every time your cunt swallowed him.
"who would've guessedー" he grunted "your human body could take me so well" he looked down at the bulge on your belly.
"Ao'nung I'm closeー" you cried as he increased his pace even more holding your waist, fucking the most beautiful sounds out of you. He admired the bulge his dick formed on your abdomen everytime he buried inside your cunt.
"Let go little oneー don't hold back" he said twisting and teasing your clit with his fingers. Your legs shook at the intense pleasure, "let me feel your juices." He groaned pulling your legs up on his shoulders hitting a deeper with the new angle.
Your jaw fell open as his cock threatened to pierce your cervix. Your body arched against his as you came undone, squirting all over his pelvis as his hips kept snapping against yours with hunger.
"Holdー on a little longer." He grunted throwing his head back and gripping your waist tightly as he felt his orgasm approaching "almost there" he growled breathing heavily.
He pushed himself deep inside you for the last time, releasing his load directly into your womb, filling you to the brim "ahh yess-" he growled fucking you both out of your orgasm.
He slowly pulled out of your quivering walls, letting your legs fall down gently. some of his seed leaked down on your thighs. He suddenly took you in his arms and placed you into his hammock as he cleaned up the woven mat.
"We'll certainly have a lot of chances to increase your stretch." He chuckled sitting on the floor, next to you. "That's not funny" you mumbled, your heart still racing.
"I have a great idea. Maybe next time we can your your marui" you imagined he was referring to your lab "so you can take off that mask" he cooed leaning towards your shoulder and kissing it.
You rolled you eyes "now would you mind asking me real questions about human anatomy?" He chuckled lightly "maybe i will."
A/N: this might become a series?? (anon if you see this plsss claim an emoji this idea was soooo good)
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ne-videl · 4 months
Text
𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤
yandere Dion Agriche x fairy fem reader
he will gladly go even to his own death if you'll order him to.
sub yandere, unhealthy relationship, a little bit of Cassis x reader, mentions of violence, reader and Dion have master/pet relationships, also reader is referred to as "sister" a few times so pseudo incest I guess, sfw but a bit suggestive, everybody likes you!! poor english
word count: ~2k
a/n: there I am again drooling over fictional men. so here's my favorite yandere trope!! for if your psychopath doesn't worship you it's not your psychopath ©
honestly when I was reading this manhwa for the first time and saw dion I was like "damn I want this man on his knees 🤨🤨", so here you are. eat.
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"you're a dog, Dion." – not-Roxanne lifts the corners of her lips in a slight smile, while her neat fingers run through his shaggy hair.
"your dog," – Dion adds mentally.
you feel the touch of his dry lips on your bare foot.
sitting like this, kneeling in front of you, seems right – it can't be any other way, and it won't be.
"may I?" – after receiving tacit approval, he leans closer, his hand stroking your bare thigh.
you smell like flowers: maids must have added rose oil to the water, and this smell digs into his lungs, making him roll his eyes in ecstasy.
just from this, from the fact that you are so close, he could just reach his hand out and feel you.
your body is cold – devoid of any human warmth, burning his skin with the cold of it's touch. your eyes look with a non malicious mockery: how a person looks at their beloved pet. with kind condescension.
you lean in, and Dion feels a kiss at the top of his head. scent of roses hits his nose, almost suffocating, and it feels like his mind is about to give up. well, if he dies right here, he won't regret a bit.
crimson flush on his cheeks almost burns his skin.
____*:・゚✧
"hello. my name is ███████. do you mind playing with me, brother?"
he turns around at the girly voice behind him – distracting himself from the dead bird – and he is met by the look of your laughing eyes.
not red ones.
his sister tucks a lock of her hair behind her little ear and sits down next to him, waiting for an answer.
shouldn't she be blonde like Roxanne?
who is Roxanne?
"okay." – Deon catches his sister's smile and for some reason wants to smile too. she talks about a cute teddy bear that her father gave her, about how she likes to drink tea under the summer sun, and that she probably likes him too.
he had once seen in a book: in the old fairy tales that mothers read to their children, it was said that fairies could replace a human child with their own.
none of Agriche's children believed in fairy tales, but it seems appropriate for his "sister" – you, not-Roxanne, must be a fairy. a lovely creature with transparent wings and a honey voice.
he doesn't mind. whatever calls itself his sister, Deon thinks he really, really likes it.
____*:・゚✧
if he's not on a mission, Deon is always by your side.
"what are you doing here? can't you see sister is with me now?" – Jeremy mumbled indignantly, but you only laughed softly, covering your lips with a neat palm.
a beautiful silver ring glitters on the sixth finger of the "sister".
their father also adores you – maybe it's natural for fairies to charm everyone around them – from members of their so-called "family" to the maids and even the hounds of the estate.
maybe he's a hound himself in her eyes. it didn't matter, as long as he could be with his "sister" – or at least with the creature that pretended to be her.
it was undoubtedly a pleasure to belong to you.
Deon drapes a white fur coat over your shoulders: you often went out into the garden in light clothes, as if the winter cold did not bother you at all. your hair falls over the fur collar, and you smile at him, giggling about how quietly he walks, and chirping about something else. you were fond of chatting, and it was often very difficult to stop listening to you. he, however, usually spoke rarely and little, accompanying you, his mistress, like a silent shadow.
you're spending too much time in the company of a Pedelian pup – an unacceptably long time – so that his eye begins to twitch with anger.
isn't he enough? why would you need this toy if he is always at your feet, your faithful dog, a hound, ready to do whatever you want without a trace of doubt and regret?
Dion wished you'd let him kill Cassis.
"may I ask you a question?" – you turn at the sound of his voice. surrounded by a winter garden, you look even more beautiful, pitch black against dead-white snow. perfection.
"of course, ask. what is it?" – "sister" raises an eyebrow a little stiffly, not naturally, just a little bit.
"do you like him more? I dare not doubt you, and you should not doubt my loyalty, but still-" – his scarlet eyes narrow slightly – "but still, do you like him more?"
if you answer yes, he will go and kill the eldest of the Pedelian offspring on the spot. this is Deon's place. and the hell he's going to let someone else take it.
"of course not, silly." – you laughed – "didn't we discuss this earlier? toys are toys, but you were and will remain my favorite."
right. that's how it should be. why did he even doubt it?
"favorite." – mentally repeats after you while your six-fingered palm rests on his head: you had a habit to pet him like a puppy.
"favorite." – gaze of crimson eyes trembles, invariably riveted to you, and Dion struggles with the desire to grab the object of his sick adoration in his arms, hug you, to feel the cold of your inhuman body at least through clothes. your smell is dope, your touch is opium, your eyes are an abyss, mesmerizing with the horror of its cold depths.
but he can't. you didn't allowed it yet.
and he, as befits a well-trained hound, will obediently wait for your permission.
____*:・゚✧
"███████. that's not your real name, is it? what are you?" – Cassis looks at you expectantly.
you tilt your head to the side, picturesquely rounding your eyes and raising your neat eyebrows.
theatrically. not natural.
"what are you talking about? I am me. who else do you think I can be? stop asking stupid questions, darling." – you answer with a mocking smile. like he's saying something ridiculous.
"are you kidding me? you have six fingers! why doesn't anyone else notice this? besides, you look different, not at all like-" – Cassis cuts himself off in mid-sentence.
like who?
"you know, forget it... it's like I haven't been myself lately. you know, with all this kidnapping, and even your brother..." – he shakes his head nervously under your laughing gaze.
something inside told him that if he kept asking questions now, it won't end well. and anyway, why would he do that? after all, it's not polite to interrogate his benefactress.
everything is fine.
"the less you know the better you sleep, my dear. why don't we just proceed as planned? and how many fingers I have is none of your business." – you look appraisingly, as an already well-fed snake looks at a mouse.
eat or not?
"if I were you, I'd be more worried about the success of your future escape, and for that matter, about my dear brother. you see, Dion has been wanting to twist your neck for a long time." – mention of the red-eyed man makes Cassis tense up.
when you see his reaction, you giggle like you just said the funniest joke in the world.
"come on. I was joking. Dion won't hurt you unless I tell him to. he's a good boy."
when he thinks about it, you, the elder Agriche, had a lot in common with the poisonous butterflies you adored so much. in the sense that Cassis often got the impression that you wanted to devour him. at least it wasn't hard to imagine transparent wings behind your back.
____*:・゚✧
gatherings with your father always ended well after midnight – invariably over cigars and wine, in his office full of acrid tobacco smoke.
it was no secret who will become the next head of Agriche: Lante never hid his paradoxical favoritism. with you alone he had the relationship that most closely resembles the relationship of a parent to a child.
"in general, everything is going as it should. don't forget to dress up for the next dinner party: I've already called the designers." – Lante exhaled a cloud of smoke, smiling cheekily: alcohol was doing its job.
"as you wish. Is Dion doing good at his job?" – you answered with a relaxed face: wine, as well as many other "human" things, had no effect on you.
"you ask as if you don't know. you raised him well." – you slightly unnaturally round your eyes in surprise – "only a fool here does not know that the only person to whom my son is truly faithful is you. I don't know how you did it, but these mind games of yours seem to have had the desired effect. of course, you're my daughter! you're more like a dog with a mistress, not a brother and sister."
Lante bursts into a deep laugh, and his "daughter" does not deny herself a satisfied grin.
a dog and his mistress, huh?
heavy doors of the head's office closed behind your fragile – at least visually –figure.
you are greeted by the night chill of the deserted corridor of the estate and your dog waiting in the distance.
"hi, Dion. already returned?" – he just nods silently in response, coming closer to you and offering his hand.
my-my, just came from a mission in the middle of the night and immediately rushed to you. how obedient.
"did you hear it?" – you tilt your head to the side with a sly grin.
"I did. while I was waiting for you." – he doesn't say anything about Lante's comment. doesn't deny it.
indeed, you raised him well. no trace of pride was left.
Dion in your hands – a faithful puppy, readily following any of your instructions. even if you'll send him right to his death, he will return, only bowing his head in anticipation of praise and the touch of your cold hands.
and you, like a good master, praise, and stroke, and kiss. after all, if there is a stick, there must be a carrot.
____*:・゚✧
"here we will part, my dear friend. we have already discussed your plan of action, so I see no point in repeating myself. go to freedom, but quickly: we, you know, deal with riots quickly."
"wait, listen, please. can you at least answer me before I leave? what are you, really? I always have the feeling that you're not who you seem. I mean... no, I like you, I really like you, it's just-" – Cassis cuts himself off, realizing that he blurted out too much.
he's all flushed, confused in words, and you're just looking at him with your unnerving eyes and smiling.
watching. and aren't blinking.
"God, no matter how much years I'm carrying on my shoulders, it's the first time I've met such a curious human." – you purse your scarlet lips, thinking about the answer – "don't worry, "she" is now where she will be better. and as for your question, dear, you can consider that I'm just a bystander. yes, let's think so. so stop talking and run, okay?"
"and you? will you be okay?" – you raised your eyebrow: still unnatural, however, he's already used to it.
exit from the estate is already very close, just a stone's throw away, and Cassis is hesitating. desperately grabbing your wrist, looking with shining yellow eyes into your laughing, soulless ones.
tch.
"what, you want to stay my toy forever? you know, I'm an Agriche too, and I might change my mind about letting you go if you keep looking at me like a beaten puppy." – realizing that your quip was not accepted by the "audience", you rolled your eyes, but then broke into your too perfect smile again.
"don't worry. I can't be killed in a way that matters."– a six-fingered palm rests on the top of his head, and your face stretches into a grin, not human, too wide for a human.
but he's not scared. he wants to watch more – it's impossible to look away, even if his instinct for self-preservation screams that he needs to get out of here as soon as possible.
the abyss, as it turned out, can really look back, and it is beautiful in its terrifying appearance.
is this how Deon feels every time he looks at something that calls itself his sister?
"well, let's never meet again, my friend." – and Cassis leaves, leaves without turning around, because he understands that if he turns around, he will never be able to leave this nightmarish estate. he won't want to.
you hesitate a little, watching him with unblinking eyes, and with a sense of accomplishment you turn back.
your face rests against a man's chest. familiar scent of ash and blood hits your sensitive nose.
"and you're still walking silently." – Dion drapes his coat over your bare shoulders. a gloved hand lingers on your skin a little longer than it should.
"it's cold in the dungeons. you should have dressed warmer." – you laughed a little.
he knows perfectly well that you don't feel the cold, but he does this every time anyway.
"and what, you won't even ask anything? aren't you curious why I let the Pedelian offspring go?" – your six–fingered hand is holding his elbow as you wind through the dark and cold corridors.
"I will not question your methods. but was it wise to talk about your secret, even in this way? doesn't he know too much now?" – it's not difficult to understand what he's hinting at: in his opinion, you should've get rid of Cassis. athough never said out loud, your "brother's" dislike of your toy was ridiculously strong.
ah, men's jealousy!
"let him think what he wants. there are no big conclusions to be drawn from what I said anyway." – you tilt your head to the side, your eyes lazily scan the walls of the dungeon. he just nods and continues to walk beside you in silence.
Dion never asked too much, never doubted any of your actions, never poked his nose where it should not be. you certainly raised him well. no, even exceeded your own expectations.
what a good boy.
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mom yelled at me for almost a hour and I wanna curl up and die 🤩
thanks for reading!!
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querenciasturniolo · 4 months
Text
ghost ⮕ s.t.
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word count: 4.1k
warnings: depictions of death (no active murder), mentions of death, mentions of vomit, blood, suspense, anxiety, fear, swearing
summary: murders in los angeles have been happening left and right, and right as you think it couldn’t get any worse, one of your best friends is gone.
a/n: this took much longer than it should have, and for that i’m sorry, but i have a few things to say beforehand. this was inspired by multiple edits, two separate convos i had with @floofparker and @champangekisses , scream being one of my FAVORITE scary movies, and, of course, the iconic “WHO’S MOST LIKELY TO BE THE GHOSTFACE KILLERRRR” from chris. this took FOREVER, but i’m so proud of it and so excited to put it out. this is pretty reminiscent to the movie, but i added my own little spin on it. PLEASE read the bolded disclaimer and take it to heart, i don’t think anything that goes down in this fic would actually happen, hence the name fanfiction. it’s supposed to be unrealistic, that’s the point. i hope you enjoy 🫶🏻
everything written is completely fictional. the people i write for are written with characteristics and mannerisms that i made for them, this is in no way depicting what would actually happen in real life.
Twenty year old social media star Christopher (Chris) Sturniolo was found dead outside of his Los Angeles home on September 22, 2023. His brothers, who he made comedy videos with on multiple platforms, Nicolas and Matthew Sturniolo, claim their brother had been out with long-time friend and fellow content creator, Y/f/n Y/l/n, hours before.
Nick and Matt told police moments before they rushed out to find their brother with multiple stab wounds, they heard yelling and a struggle. When they reached Chris, the assailant was gone. Y/n hasn’t spoken about their day together prior to his death, and has refused to answer any questions asked. Her and Matt Sturniolo seem to have ended their year-long relationship shortly after this tragedy, but we all want to know why. Was there an affair? Was the guilt too much to keep the secret after Chris’ death?
On October 13, 2022, Y/n’s brother was murdered brutally, and their mother suffered a very public breakdown. The assailant in her brother’s case has yet to be found.
Chris Sturniolo’s murder was the fifth in a little less than two months. Police have yet to tell the public any of their leads in this string of serial murders, but have disclosed that they are far from closing these cases.
The article had only been out for an hour, and your Instagram and Tiktok were already being swarmed with notifications. So many, that you had to delete both apps off of your phone to keep it from crashing.
You hadn’t left your bed since that day, only to get something to eat and some water when you ran out—you couldn’t even go to the funeral. You couldn’t bring yourself to answer your phone, you couldn’t even answer the countless messages you scrolled through in the days following your best friend’s death.
Today was the day, you decided, that you were going to do something. Three weeks couldn’t have been too late to get your shit back together. You had woken up in the late afternoon and gotten into the shower, standing under the hot spray for what felt like forever and just allowing yourself to relax and release any tension in your body.
You had made a full meal for the first time since…that morning. You were nauseous the entire time you ate, but you had to do this. When your brother died, everyone told you that the best way to get through your grief was to continue your regular routine as much as possible. Filming a video was on your to do list. You weren’t going to post it, it was just for you to get back into the routine of talking to a camera.
Setting up your camera was the hardest part. You knew how to do it blindfolded by now, but the thought of doing anything like this, even if you weren’t going to post it, felt wrong, almost. It felt wrong to look into a camera and talk about that day, talk about your last day with Chris.
You sat down on your couch after pressing record and ran a hand over your face, finally looking into the lens and sighing.
“It’s been awhile.” You started, rolling your eyes at the corniness of your statement. “I don’t even know why I said that, I’m not even posting this.” You grumbled, dropping your head into your hands and carding your fingers through your hair. The burning in your throat started, and you continuously fought through the knot and forming tears.
You looked up again, hoping your eyes didn’t look as red as they felt. “I picked Chris up at ten fifteen, and we spent the entire day together. We went thrifting, as much as he complained the whole time.” You said, a ghost of a smile forming on your face as your eyes focused elsewhere.
“He, oh my God.” You said, chuckling to yourself and shaking your head. “He would throw whatever I had in my hands in the basket and ask if we were done yet, every time I picked something up. I don’t know what his problem was, considering he had gotten a few things too.” You said, sighing softly and glancing over at the camera.
“We went to lunch—that honestly sounds more fancy than it is, we stopped at In-n-Out—and we just came back to my house afterwards. We talked about…a lot of things.” You started, tears pooling in your eyes as you closed them and let yourself remember.
“We talked…we talked about life, and getting older.” You said, dropping your head back and looking up at the ceiling. “Fears, hopes and whatnot. We talked about everything.” You said, sighing softly as the remnants of Chris’ voice in your memory sang through.
“I don’t know what I want right now. I’m grateful that I’m doing so well, but in five years, where will I be?”
“It started getting late, so I took him home. He told me to come in if I wanted, but I…I was tired, I wanted to go home. He…he got out of the car, and I didn’t. I never...” You dropped your head in your hands again, your breathing labored as you fought off the guilt that had been deteriorating you for the last three weeks.
You lifted your head, about to stand and turn off your camera when your phone buzzed next to you. You sighed and flipped it over, frowning at the screen.
No Caller ID flashed before you. Usually you’d ignore the call, but something in you couldn’t resist as you slid the icon over and pressed it to your ear.
“Hello?” You asked, your voice quiet and shaky.
“It was your fault, you know.”
You’d never ended a call so fast, your phone hitting the couch as you stared down at it with wide eyes. The voice was distorted, completely unrecognizable, but familiar at the same time. This was some sick joke, it had to be. You took a deep breath and shook your head.
You stood and walked over to your camera on weak knees, stopping the recording and taking your camera off of the tripod. As you shut off the camera, your phone buzzed on the couch. A sigh left your lips as you placed the camera on the coffee table and ran your hands through your hair.
What was the worst that could happen, right? You picked up your phone, No Caller ID still flashing across the screen. You slid the icon over again and pressed your phone to your ear.
“That wasn’t very nice.”
Your entire body went on high alert. “Who is this?” You asked, your voice trembling.
“That’s not important, what’s important is I know what really happened that day.”
All of the air left your lungs as you shakily sat down on the couch. “What are you talking about?” You asked. A dark chuckle rang through the receiver, your heart pounding in your ears as you waited for an answer.
“You didn’t wait for him to get inside, did you, Sweetheart?”
A broken sob left your lips as you hung up the phone and dropped it, your whole body shaking with each shattered cry that escaped you. The guilt was too much, it was the only thing about your last day with him that you couldn’t bring yourself to even say.
You blame yourself for Chris’ death, if you had just waited a few moments for him to get in the door, none of this would have happened. It was killing you every single day, not knowing if your being there would have changed anything.
You ignored the next call, and went through your contacts. Your finger hovered over Matt’s name, your chest aching as you swiped out of his contact, clicked the one under it, and held your phone to your ear. Before Nick could even finish his greeting, you were straining to get your words out of your mouth through the knot in your throat.
“Nick, something is wrong. Please, please come over.” You whispered into the phone, trying your best to keep your voice steady as his silence on the other end made your skin crawl.
“I’ll be there soon.”
You put your phone on the couch and took your time pacing around your living room.
Nick would be here soon, there was no reason to panic. The person on the phone was nothing, no one. Your phone’s incessant buzzing pulled you out of your pacing. You were frustrated now, the guilt and pain that you’d been holding in for so long was finally out in the open and slapping you right in the face.
How did they know? You hadn’t told anyone, you couldn’t even bring yourself to say it out loud.
It didn’t matter, the person on the phone had no idea what they were talking about, which sounded about as stupid as you thought it did, but it was the only thing keeping you from pulling your hair out of your head.
You pulled your phone from the couch and answered, the buzzing driving you up the wall.
“Listen, I’ve already called the police, and they’re tracing this call right no—”
The laughter on the other end cut you off, your heartbeat pounding in your ears as that sickening, metallic voice rang through the receiver.
“Oh, Sweetheart. We both know that isn’t true. I do know, however, that your little friend and boyfriend are on their way right now. Care to explain how they’re going to help you?”
Every hair on your body stood on end, your chest aching with the intensity of each beat against your rib cage. You fish-mouthed, unable to get any words out as the voice continued.
“How are they going to stop me, hm? How are they going to keep me from gutting you the same way I did your dear old friend, Chris? Or your brother?”
You froze, your gaze stuck to the floor as each word processed in your mind. “My brother?” You whimpered, a sinister chuckle vibrated against your ear.
“You heard me, Sweetheart. He put up quite the fight, too. More of a fight than your little friend.”
“Shut up!” You screamed into the receiver, hanging up the phone and throwing it across the room. You could distinctly hear the shatter of your screen as you crumpled in on yourself.
Michael’s murder had completely destroyed you. Your entire world was uprooted, and your mom, your mom hasn’t been the same since. She spends her days sitting in a rocking chair in front of the window, rocking slowly back and forth in a daze.
You’d never shaken more in your life, your entire body twitching and fighting each movement you tried to make as you stood from the floor. You needed to get up, you couldn’t let yourself stay on the ground or you’d never move.
Before you reached your kitchen, the sound of a knock at the door had you jumping out of your skin. It took everything in you to walk to the door and peek out the peephole, ripping it open the moment you registered Nick and Matt standing on your porch.
You hadn’t said a word before they rushed in and wrapped you in the tightest hugs you’d ever experienced in your life. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you pushed the door shut and held them tightly.
“I’m so sorry.” You sobbed, both of their arms holding you as you completely crumbled. “I didn’t wait for him to get inside, I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault, he’d be here right now if it wasn’t for me. I’m so fucking sorry.” You rambled. Neither of them spoke, but their shoulders shaking softly against you answered the silent question of if they were listening.
When you finally pulled away, you were still shaking like a leaf. The guilt of holding it in for so long had been washed away, but the fear of that voice on the phone was still running rampant.
“No one blames you.” Nick said, his eyes rimmed red. “We’ve never blamed you. So you don’t need to worry about that.” You glanced at Matt, who’s eyes were still on the floor before you met Nick’s eyes again. “What happened?”
You sniffed and shook your head as you wiped at your face. “Nothing, it’s fine. It isn’t important.” You whispered, wrapping your arms around your abdomen as your eyes rested on Matt’s hunched frame. Nick sighed from where he stood and ran a hand over his face.
“I’ll leave you two to talk, but then I want to know what happened.” He said before he turned and walked towards the living room.
For what felt like hours, you and Matt stood across from each other in the mudroom of your childhood home, you staring at him, and him staring at the floor. When his eyes finally met yours, it felt as though your heart shattered and mended itself all at once. You hadn’t seen him since before Chris’ death, and the only message you’d sent him since then was telling him that the two of you needed to break up.
He looked as beautiful as he always had, but he looked different. Under his eyes were dusted in a dark purple, the whites of them tinged pink, his cheeks sunken in.
“Matty,” you whispered and took a step forward. He shook his head and looked back down at the floor.
“Why?”
It took everything in you not to wrap him in your arms and never let go. You knew exactly what he was asking you, and you knew the answer. It had taken these three weeks of you doing nothing more than surviving to realize you had no other reason to break up with Matt, other than the fact that looking at him would remind you of Chris, and you couldn’t handle it. It was selfish, and you could only imagine how he felt.
“I…I don’t have a good reason.”
Matt nodded and sniffed before looking up and meeting your eyes. The blue of his iris’ was striking against the red rimming his eyes. Your own eyes were burning as his gaze scanned over your face.
“Is it true?”
You frowned, confusion clouding your mind as he sighed and shook his head.
“What the article said, about you and Chris. Is it true? Was there…did you…”
You gasped as the realization hit you of what he was asking.
“Matt, what? I would never, I could never do that to you. I didn’t look at Chris like that, you know that.” You rambled on.
Matt nodded. “I know, I know. I’m sorry, just…a moment of weakness, I didn’t mean it.” He mumbled, taking a step closer to you. “Why did you end…us? I needed you, and you just…you shut me out.”
You took a deep breath in through your nose and shook your head. “I couldn’t bear looking at you and seeing him. I know, that’s selfish, and I’m sorry.” You whispered.
“I shattered the mirror in my bathroom the other night.”
You looked up, your eyebrows furrowed as Matt held up his hands. A gasp left your lips and you reached forward, delicately taking his cut up and bruised hands in yours. Before you could ask him why, he answered the silent question brokenly.
“Every time I looked in the mirror, I saw him.” You met his eyes again, and didn’t stop yourself as you pulled him into a bone-crushing embrace.
“I’m sorry, Matty. I should have been there.” You mumbled into his shoulder, his arms tightening around your waist as he breathed you in. Neither of you said anything, just held each other for as long as the other needed.
“Um, Y/n? Did you do this on purpose?”
You pulled away from Matt and turned around, seeing Nick holding your shattered phone in his hand. You sighed and nodded, the fear you’d completely forgotten about creeping up.
“I was getting prank phone calls, it’s not that big of a deal.” You mumbled, pulling away completely and walking towards the living room.
“What kind of prank phone calls would make you shatter your phone?” Matt asked quietly, you turned to face him and shrugged your shoulders, trying desperately to hide the shaking of your hands. You didn’t want to talk about it, you couldn't talk about it. If you talked about it, that would make it real.
Before you could even sit on the couch, Nick’s phone was went off in his pocket. Your heart pounded as he pulled it out and looked down at it with a frown.
“No Caller ID?” He mumbled, your jaw dropping as he pulled it to his ear. It was a few moments of silence before he met your eyes and handed it to you. “They asked for you.”
You whimpered as you took the phone and pressed it to your ear, not saying a word as the mechanical voice spoke again.
“You really thought smashing your phone would get rid of me, Sweetheart?”
“What do you want?!” You cried, the other line buzzing in silence for only a moment before Matt stepped forward and almost snatched the phone from your hand.
“I’m upstairs, come find me.”
The line beeped right as Matt grabbed the phone and pressed it to his ear. You froze in your spot, Matt turning to face you and dropping Nick’s phone on the couch. He grabbed your shoulders and shook you once lightly.
“What did they say? Baby, breathe. What did they say?!” Matt asked, his grip on your shoulders tight as you fought off the panic.
“He’s in the house. He’s in the house.” You whispered, your eyes meeting Matt’s. Nick moved from his spot and stopped right next to Matt, his eyes wide as he scanned your face.
“Y/n, who is in the house?” He asked, his voice quiet in shock. You shook your head, nausea overtaking you as you pushed past Matt and sprinted to the kitchen. You couldn’t make it to the trash, turning and vomiting into the sink, your breaths heaving as you felt a warm hand rest on your back.
It took everything in you not to crumple to the floor as you looked up and shook your head.
“H-He told me he’s the one that killed Michael…and C-Chris.” You whispered the last word, your throat burning and your stomach lurching. Matt’s eyes widened and he shook his head.
“How long have you been getting these phone calls?” He asked, his voice shaky as Nick handed you a bottle of water.
“It’s only been the last couple of hours, I thought it was some sort of sick prank until—”
A shatter from upstairs had your entire body tensing, your breath catching in your throat. Nick’s head whipped to the stairs as Matt reached for a knife and turned away.
“What are you doing?” You asked, grabbing his arm tightly and making him face you. Nick had his phone dialed and already pressed to his ear, speaking quickly to the 9-1-1 operator.
“I’m fucking going up there.” He said, pulling his arm from your grip and continuing his way towards the stairs.
“Matt, are you stupid?” Nick asked, stepping in front of the staircase as he hung up the phone. “The police are being dispatched, don’t do anything rash.” Matt shoved past Nick and ascended the stairs, his knuckles white on the handle of the knife. Nick groaned and faced you fully. “What are we gonna do?” He asked.
“We can’t just let him go up there by himself.” You whispered, walking past Nick and slowly stepping up the stairs.
“Jesus, you guys are gonna get us killed.” Nick grumbled from behind you. You heard a shuffle in the kitchen and turned, seeing him follow you up with a knife in his hand. “What? One of us had to grab something.” He whispered. You faced forward again, listening for any bump or creak that could indicate where Matt or the man that was in your house were.
It was silent as you walked through the upstairs. Each door you passed was closed, the only sound upstairs being the sound of Nick’s and your footsteps, and the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears.
“Matt?” You called out, the back of Nick’s hand hitting your shoulder. You looked at him, bewilderment etched into your face.
“Have you never seen a scary movie? Calling out in a dark house is the number one way to fucking die.” He said through his teeth. You rolled your eyes and opened your mouth to fire back.
“Get off of me!”
You jumped, your head whipping down the hallway to see a door slam. “Matt!” You shouted, running without thinking towards the door and shoving it open. The moment you stepped into the center of the room, you knew something was wrong. The door clicked behind you, and you froze in place.
“Look what we have here.”
You turned, your eyes meeting Matt’s. His entire demeanor changed, the heartbroken boy you’d seen before was gone. In his place, stood what you could only describe as a monster. His eyes were dark, his smirk sinister, and his shoulders were square.
“Matty?” You asked, Nick coming from behind him with an almost identical smirk.
The both of them chuckled and looked between each other. Nick stepped forward, causing you to take a quick step back.
“Oh, Honey. Matty’s been gone for a while.” His hooded eyes stared you down as you fully processed what was truly happening. The both of them had tricked you.
You took in a shaky breath past the knot in your throat as you took another step back.
“You?” You exhaled, your eyes switching between them as their smirks grew impossibly wider. Matt rolled his eyes and looked over to Nick.
“Us?” He mocked, meeting your eyes and taking a step closer to you. “Yes, Baby. Us. Is that so surprising?” He teased, your eyes brimming with hot, salty tears. The cool air in the room had them burning, and your throat felt like it was on fire.
“You two were behind the murders all along?” You asked, your voice barely reaching a whisper as they moved closer to you almost strategically, boxing you in with each step they took.
Nick chuckled and nodded his head, his eyes never leaving yours as he cocked his head to the side. “She’s catching up, Matt. Yes, every single one.” He said, his voice thick with venom.
“But why?” You whimpered, your back hitting the wall. You were cornered, you couldn’t get past them no matter how hard you tried. Nick and Matt’s eyes were wicked as they watched you, Matt’s smirk growing as he glanced over at Nick.
“Hear that, Nick? She wants a motive.” He said, his eyes meeting yours again. “It isn’t enough that we just felt like it?”
“You killed Michael in cold blood, just because you felt like it?” You spat. Nick quirked an eyebrow and lightly ran the tip of his finger over the blade of the knife he was holding.
“See, now you’re getting it. Not everyone needs a motive, some people are just sick and twisted.” He pouted at the end of his sentence, anger flushing through you and coating your skin in heat.
“And Chris?” You asked. Matt chuckled and shook his head.
“You really can’t be that dense, Baby.” He said.
“Don’t fucking call me that.” You said through gritted teeth.
“It was only a distraction. We were getting sloppy, and what’s better to get the cops off of our case than getting rid of one of us?” Nick interrupted. You shook your head.
“Murder isn’t a distraction, you sick fucks.” You spat, looking around the room for any escape.
Matt chuckled, and flipped the blade in his hand. “Oh, Baby. You really aren’t understanding, are you?”
Before you could spit in his face, the door behind them was pushed open, your eyes shifting to the shadowed figure walking into the room. Your heart pounded in your chest as realization slowly set in, a broken cry leaving your lips as you shook your head.
“No.” You whispered.
The white mask on his face would have been comical if every hair on your body wasn’t standing on end. You watched each movement closely, your knees buckling as you slid to the floor. The wood was ice cold as the man crouched down in front of you. He pulled the mask from his face, your choked sob being caught in your throat as you shook your head and looked down at the floor.
His warm finger rested on your chin and he lifted it up until your eyes met his, a broken whimper leaving your lips as you met the familiar blue eyes you’d looked into a million times before.
“What’s the matter, Sweetheart?” Chris said, his voice gravelly and rough as it left his smirking lips. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
tags: @lvrsparadise , @ssturniolo , @floofparker , @cat-loves-music , @geniejunn , @its-jennarose , @dwntwn-strnlo , @20nugs , @hiraethlimerence , @lavieenvalentina , @strniolo , @toyourloves , @jellybeanbby , @thetriplets3 , @mxriverse , @stvrni0lo , @gabbylovesreading , @tylerscreat0r , @angelcake-222 , @obsessivencrazy , @lollibumblebee , @stargirlv0id , @idontexistman , @emssturniolo , @soursturniolo , @bernardenjoyer , @mxqdii , @leah-loves-lilies , @mattsnutsack , @lovelysturniolo
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daltonsluvr · 4 months
Text
IN THE COMPANY OF THE STARS
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pairing: theodore nott x gn!reader
summary: amongst the peaceful covering of the astronomy tower, you find an unlikely comfort in the presence of none other than theodore nott. (1.2k wc)
authors note: first little drabble to bring me back out of my writers slump - and who better than boyfriend no.1 to do so??
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"Is this seat taken?" You turned around at the voice, to see none other than Theodore Nott standing behind you, his hands in his pockets, indicating at the space next to you.
Technically, the seat he wanted wasn't a seat at all. It's a part of the Astronomy Tower floor, of which you were sitting on, your feet dangling over the edge. You had a book in your lap, which had been left long forgotten as you looked ahead of you at the stars which danced upon the night sky. It really was the prettiest place in all of Hogwarts.
Slowly, you shook your head, and he nodded in response, taking a seat beside you. It's strange, you thought to yourself, watching him closely as he too dangled his legs out in front of him. The two of you knew each other from classes and such, yet had only interacted a couple of times, usually to ask for a quill or something along those lines.
You realised then just how weird you must have looked, watching him so intensely, and so you forced your attention back to the landscape around you, focusing on the trees ahead.
A few beats. 1, 2-
"You come here often?" he broke the silence first, turning to look at you. You hadn’t noticed until that moment just how startlingly beautiful his eyes were - dead, but with a softness behind them. It was entrancing, to say the least.
"Yeah," you answered, meeting his eyes. "The stars don't ask too many questions, so they're pretty great company when I need some peace." You hadn't meant for the comment to be funny, yet you watched as a chuckle escaped his lips: a beautiful sound, really.
"Didn't think you'd ever be a quiet person," he half-laughed, his eyes crinkling slightly. "Anyone could hear your voice from a mile off."
"Even the loudest of us need some quiet, sometimes," you responded, shrugging your shoulders, and swinging your feet slightly. "This must be a regular spot for you then, huh, given your notorious 'Mr Silent' status?"
The statement was true - this was the most you had ever heard the boy spoke, to anyone. It was his turn to now shrug, before leaning back on his hands. "You could say that."
You assumed the conversation had reached its natural end, and so you took the book you had on your lap and opened it to the page you'd bookmarked, and began reading.
"Romeo and Juliet?" A voice from next to you read, and you turned once more to see Theodore now reading the cover of the book, raising a brow in your direction. "You read muggle literature?"
"Shakespeare is one of the greats, I'd be stupid not to," you answered. Upon seeing the look on his face, you continued, "Don't tell me you've never read Shakespeare."
He shook his head, and you laughed, endearingly. "You are seriously missing out, Nott. Muggle or not, he's amazing. A real genius."
"Well, talk to me, then," Theodore looked down at you, his eyes piercing through your own. "Tell me about this guy and his books."
"They're plays, really," you started, almost unsure as to whether or not to continue. But he looked at you, almost daring you to continue, and so you did.
It was unusual for you to find someone so interested in talking to you, especially about something as niche as the works of William Shakespeare, but then again, Theodore Nott really wasn't like anyone you'd ever met before.
"-this book was one of the first my mother gave to me, and so its always been my favourite," you finished eventually, your voice growing slightly hoarse from talking so much. "Sorry for talking your ear off."
"No worries," he said in return, sending a small smile your way. "The b-play, certainly sounds interesting."
Looking between him and the book, you reached out to him, book still in your grasp. "Here, take it. To borrow."
He looked at you, almost questioning you with his eyes. "Why?"
"Everyone needs to read Shakespeare at least once in their lives, and I'm guessing none of your friends own any of his works, right?" He shook his head once again, and you shook your own in mock exasperation. "Honestly."
You coaxed him once again until he took the book from your hands, and you watched as he felt the cover of it. "It's a bit battered, because it's the one my mother got me when I was younger. And I have written inside it, so you may want to ignore that as well."
You got up, book officially out of your hands, and you dusted off your robes. Finally ready to go, you made to leave, until he called out your name. You turned around to look back at him.
"Thank you." was all he said, a smile lighting up his features with genuity.
"No problem, Theodore-"
"Theo."
"Theo. No worries, Theo," it was your turn to smile as you turned to leave, leaving the Slytherin boy alone.
— —— — — —
"A boy left this for you." A small first year girl approached you no more than a week later, a box in their arms, which they had outstretched towards you. You were sat by the window in your common room, Transfiguration homework in your lap as you worked through the questions McGonagall had set you.
"Did the boy leave a name?" you questioned, looking cynically at the box in front of you, which you had taken from the girl.
"No, he said you'd know who he is." The girl gave you a small fleeting smile, before skipping off, presumably to go and sit with her friends.
The box was noticeably small, and could be carrying nothing more than a couple of things, you thought to yourself, as you carefully opened it.
As soon as you saw the contents of it, though, a smile spread across your face, and you had no doubts of who the box was from. You had never pegged Theodore Nott to be one for dramatics, so you couldn't understand why he had decided to return your book in a box, but nonetheless you appreciated the sentiment.
You picked up the battered copy, the pages just as beautifully crumpled as before, and you found yourself smiling again. A note lay underneath the book, and you picked it up to read what it said.
The play was great - you clearly have good taste. Shakespeare truly is one of the greats. Astronomy tower at 8? — T.N.
Delicately folding the note and putting it in your robe pocket, you took back the copy of Romeo & Juliet in your hands, and began to flip through the pages.
His chicken scratch handwriting tattooed the pages - not overlapping the actual text or your writing, but still written as nearly as he could in numerous corners of the book.
You laughed as you read through a few of them, most of which were his sardonic comments about Romeo's idiocy, and in turn Juliet's naivety.
Eventually closing the book, you set it aside, and smiled to yourself. You weren't exactly sure how you'd found a friend in Theodore Nott, but you were certainly glad that you had.
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mrcavill88 · 9 months
Text
Despondency turned rapture
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Pairing: Stepdad Andy Barber x Stepson Male reader
Summary: A recent family passing took a deep toll on you. Never have you ever felt so isolated from humanity. The only thing keeping you going are the lewd activities between you and your stepfather
Word count: 2.1k+
Warnings: 18+, ANGST, mentions of death, SMUT, age gap (reader just turned 18, Andy is 42) drunk Andy, reader is a stoner, intimacy in the shower, Dom Andy, deep kissing, skin biting, stripping, spanking, fingering, prostate orgasm, oral sex, face fucking, unprotected sex, cum control, breeding, cuddling
A/N: Hey everyone thanks for all your support lately. This is my first Steve only fic, hope you enjoy! (If you have any questions/requests, feel free to ask me in my bio;)
You're not quite sure how your life crumbled apart so easily. One moment you're frolicking in the park with your beloved mother and stepfather, then you're hyperventilating in a hospital hoping your mother's life could see another day.
*FLASHBACK 6 MONTHS*
"Mom! P-please *sniffle* please stay with me!" you pled as you tightly gripped your mothers hand, her body laying near lifeless on the hospital bed. "Sir! Why are you in the room? Your mother is in a fragile state I understand your pain but you need to exit immediately!" the frantic doctor yelled as he tried to pry you from your mother.
"Get the hell off me!" you yelled as you shoved the doctor into the concrete wall. "Mom! Mom! Answer me!" you cried as tears stained your cheeks, feeling helpless as your mother remains unresponsive.
And then it came
The longest, most heartbreaking beep you've ever heard in your whole life. The beep that signified the death of your mother. You fell to your knees as you've just accepted what reality has become, a reality without your mother.
"Y/N! What happened? Is she okay?" your stepdad Andy panicked as he rushed over to you, seeing your mother. "N-no, NO! NO!" Andy screamed as he hugged your body tightly, in grievance of your dead mother. Both of you sat on the floor, drowned in tears as you've both lost the dearest person in your lives.
The trip out of the hospital was one that wasn't that long, but for you and Andy? It was a million years. It took a host of angels to get you out of that hospital, several doctors needed to escort you out of the hospital room. That day, a part of you was never the same, you became an incomplete puzzle with a forever missing piece.
*FLASHFORWARD TO PRESENT*
You sit in your bed, still grieving your dear mothers death. A mountain of disposables piling up in the corner of the room, making the room reek of weed. A deep and scratchy exhale left your mouth as you continue to sit in your room, refusing to leave your domain. It seems like years since you've spoken to anyone,
Well, almost anyone
The only trustworthy person in your life? Your stepdad Andy. You two have always had a close relationship, you both understood each other on a level no one else (besides your mother) could. But little did each of you know, the deep feelings you both felt for each other. I mean, how could one resist Andy? His beautiful blue eyes that dilated each time he saw you, his broad figure and chiseled muscles, his structured face and sexy beard. You knew it was wrong, especially after your mothers death, but it was something out of your control.
"Y-Y/N! G-get your ass o-over h-here!" he yelled, slurring his words amid his recent alcohol addiction. You slumped off your bed and walked over to Andy's bedroom, the unpleasant aroma of alcohol filled the room as you shut the door; bottles upon bottles of beer stacked in his closet.
"Y/N, y-you better s-stop sm-smoking, i-it'll kill you. If I f-find one more goddamn c-cart in the t-trash, I-I'm whooping your ass. Understand?" he said, barely able to connect his words together. "You think y-you can talk? It smells like shit in here, I don't know how you keep all those muscles and that jawline when all you do is drink all the fucking time! Give it a fucking break already!" you yelled, right before a thick hand smacked your cheek, you held your face.
Andy grabbed your face yelling, "You speak t-to me like t-that again? I'll fucking k-kill you, understand?" squeezing your face. You nodded as tears formed and fell down your face. You ran out of Andy's room, into your room, slamming the door, staying there for what seemed like an eternity, but was only 2 days.
*FLASHFORWARD 2 DAYS LATER*
A light knock on the door awakened your seemingly endless slumber. You stood up, feeling sticky and extremely hungry, and dragged your body towards the door and opened it to a surprisingly healthy Andy, who didn't smell.
"Hey y/n, I know you probably want to talk to me but, I'm really concerned about you. You haven't left your room in ages and your mothers death (tears up) left its toll on both of us, but I know she wants us to find happiness in our lives. So please, would you come out? Maybe we could spend some time together?" he asked, caressing the cheek that he slapped the other day.
You gave him a blank expression, still feeling a little scared of Andy after what happened yesterday. "Fine". You finally walked out of your room, the sunshine blinding you as you sit down on the couch.
"Now, let's get you cleaned up. Honey, can you please take a shower?" Andy asked, his cute nickname for you leaving you a little bit surprised. You reluctantly entered the bathroom, it seems like an eternity since you last entered it. You undressed yourself and turned on the hot water, waiting for steam to accumulate before you entered. The hot water dampening your soft skin as you cleanse yourself for the first time since your mothers death. As you were washing your hair, you noticed the bathroom door slowly creaked open. The feeling of curiosity and anxiety filled you as you waited for someone to show up.
"Y/N? Can I come in?" Andy asked, as the door was still slightly ajar.
"Come in"
Andy walked in with a white tank top that perfectly illustrated his large biceps and broad shoulders, and, it got hard, and, it seemed that he realized this. He walked over to the shower and opened the door
"Hey! Get out! I need some privacy!" you yelled as you covered your private parts, slightly blushing. "Oh I'm sorry, lemme just close this" Andy said as he seductively slapped your ass, causing you to jolt and moan a little. "GET OUT!" you yelled, clearly aggravated, little did he know a little turned on as well. He left before you finished your shower, you turned off the water, dried yourself off and put on a tight little black tank top and some shorts.
You walked out and approached Andy in the living room, still a little surprised at what he did in the bathroom. "H-hey Andy, sorry I got mad at you there" you chuckled. "Oh it's all good Y/N, in the end, that was my bad. Come sit with me, the patriots are on right now" he said to you, bringing you over to the couch, sitting you next to him.
Oh God
You were feeling things you never felt before, things you shouldn't be feeling, he was your... stepdad. This was wrong, you couldn't help but feel butterflies race around your stomach, your body temperature rising as Andy got closer and more touchy with you.
"So Y/N, you like football?" he asked you, wrapping his muscular arm around your shoulder. You didn't answer him; you couldn't even think straight you were going crazy, sweat accumulating on your forehead.
"Y/N? Why so silent?"
"S-sorry I'm just-" you couldn't even finish your sentence before you found the six foot one man hands all over you, pinning you to the couch.
"H-hey! What're you doing!" you whined out as he got closer and closer to your face. "Oh Y/N, sweet innocent Y/N, I know you like me, in fact, you love me." he said, tightening his grip on you as he was practically an inch away from your face. "N-no Andy, this is wrong! You're my stepdad! What would mom think?" "Y/N, at a certain time, you have to move on, your mother was an amazing person, she would want us to be happy right?"
You shrugged your shoulders in response before Andy's lips crashed onto yours, your tongues twisting together, fighting for dominance; you lost. "Mm baby I've been waiting years for this, you don't understand how hard I'm gonna fuck you" he huffed as he continued kissing you, moving onto your neck. "Fuck, daddy" you moaned.
"Mm, daddy huh? I like that name, you only address me as that now, understand?" You whimpered in response as Andy started biting and sucking on your neck. Moans and whines leaving your mouth as your own stepfather was leaving hickeys on your baby soft skin.
When he was finished with you, you were a moaning and whining mess, breathing in and out at a rapid pace as Andy's eyes starting filling with something, insurmountable lust. "Strip for daddy" he commanded as he put you on your knees. You slowly removed your clothing unveiling your beautiful and slim frame.
Andy stared at your angelic figure, completely awestruck by the beauty that stand before him. He grabbed onto your shoulders and started sucking on your skin again. "Mm fuck baby! You taste as good as you look, you're gonna feel so good with me inside you!"
"Mm, fuck me daddy!" you moaned as the bearded man vigorously bit and licked your skin. He grabbed your body and placed your moaning figure over his lap; you knew exactly what part was next. He squeezed and fondled your cheeks, praising them before his hands gripped them firmly.
"Count"
"o-one" *SMACK* his hand swiftly cuffed your right cheek, causing you to wince in pain, and a wee bit of pleasure.
"two" *SMACK* he smacked your left cheek with even more force, causing you to scream as a tear leaked from your eye.
Said smack became 5 smacks, then 15, then 30. At 31, your ass cheeks were tinted red and tears stained your cheeks as your stepdad had just smacked the hell out of your ass.
"Oh baby, don't cry. Daddy is so proud of you, and he thinks it's time for your reward, baby. Come on, open up"
You aversely spread your legs open, leaning up on the couch you were sitting on. Right then and there, Andy slowly inserted his thick fingers into your tight and tiny hole. He used his spit as a lubricant to make the trip nice and smooth, causing moans and whines to constantly leave your mouth.
"Daddy! Ugh! Fuck daddy! That feels so good!" you whined as his fingers went in and out of your hole.
"Oh baby I love to hear you moan, it's like music to my ears. Now, this might hurt, just sit still ok sweetie?" he kindly said as he started finger fucking you with multiple fingers. Your moans started becoming screams as the feeling of pleasure, pain, and discomfort consumed your body.
"D-daddy! I c-can't take it anymore! I'm g-gonna cum!" you whined as you could feel your cock twitch uncontrollably, completely wet with pre-cum.
"Oh no you don't" he said cupping your cock in his other hand, making you even more horny. "Daddy can't have you cumming yet, I know you can do it, be a good boy for daddy". At this point, you were practically walking on strings, shear milliseconds away from shooting your load.
Andy finally released his fingers from you, sucking on them. "Delicious. Oh baby, you're such a determined little boy, thank you for not cumming, daddy appreciates it! Now, get on your knees baby, daddy needs to unload a little". You were still a little weak from Andy finger fucking you, but you got on your knees as Andy unleashed his meat. You've been picked down by many, but nothing surmounted Andy's cock. It looked to be 8 inches long, and insanely thick. You licked his bitter tip, causing him to groan out, before you started sucking his dick.
It didn't take much before you started gagging, your drool spilling from your mouth as Andys dick invaded every corner of your mouth. "T-take it easy b-baby. Oh fuck! Baby you look so good around my dick like this!" He started to thrust into your face, you almost fell back at his aggression. The sound of moans filled the room as Andy could feel himself getting close. Noticing this, you started moaning and whining on his dick, sending vibrations up his dick. "F-fuck baby" he moaned as he shot his thick and warm cum into your mouth, filling your mouth with his baby batter.
"Oh baby you did so well! Now, it's time for the grand finale! Come on baby, face down, ass up"
You stood crawled up on the couch and did as he asked, face down, ass up, your hole still lubricated after Andy's fingers violated it. "This is a very special memory Y/N, let's make the most of it. Alright?" he softly said before he violently thrusted his cock in your hole, going in and out aggressively.
"Daddy! Ugh! I love your cock so much daddy!" you whined as his meat was invading every bit of your insides. His thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier by the second as the pleasure he felt weakened his knees.
That's when it happened
His dick thrusted into your prostate causing you to go crazy, cock twitching uncontrollably as cum shot from your cock onto the couch, practically painting a section white. "B-baby, I-I'm close, y-you're doing so well" Andy groaned as he was once again close from summing, this time inside you.
"I love you daddy!" you screamed as your legs started to wobble. At those words, Andy lost it. His cock shooting ropes and ropes of cum into your velvety walls, painting them white. You both collapsed on the couch, completely drowned in pleasure after having sex the best sex of your lives. You crawled up onto Andy's muscles, cuddling up against him.
"I love you" you said before you lightly kissed his lips
"I love you too Y/N" he huffed before you both fell asleep in each others arms
THE END
Thanks for reading:)
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babyshoesnerdshit · 8 months
Text
night shift
CW cursing, child neglect, sexual harassment, misgendering, drunk person (although not very well written lol), general violence, slight infantilization
idk i wanted to try my hand at writing some shitty platonic yandere batfam x transmasc reader (its self indulgence bby)
Hunger pained (y/n)'s stomach. Stupid cheapskate convenience store didn't give employee discounts though so he had to wait until he got home to eat anything, if there was even anything to eat that wasn't spoiled. (y/n) would have just stolen something to eat from the store (he didn't give a shit about their profit) but the security camera mocking him in the corner kept him from it. And with his phone almost dead (y/n) had nothing to do but stair at the wall and listen to the shitty radio station the store played.
(y/n) hated the night shift, it almost guarantied he would have to deal with more crackheads and drunks than his coworkers. Regardless of his feelings about the night shift it paid the most (even though that was still barely minimum wage), and he really needed the money. Even though (y/n) still lived with his mother (and technically father but he was hardy ever around), his parents had stopped taking care of him a long time ago. So (y/n) was the one to take care of himself. Sometimes he had to take care of his mother too, reminding her to eat or sleep. The bells on the door jangled, shaking (y/n) from his train of thought. Ah yes, the other type of Gotham crazies. Vigilantes.
"Hey kid."
"I'm not a kid." for some reason the batclan had decided that the 5th avenue convenience store was the best place for mid-patrol snacks.
"Ah yes, the old and wise 18 year old. My bad." Red Hood had a thick layer of sarcasm in his mechanical voice. (y/n) couldn't see his face from behind his helmet but was entirely sure he had the stupidest smirk underneath. (y/n) simply rolled his eyes (fighting back a smile) as hood moved about the store grabbing a random assortment of food and drinks. As hood was filling his arms the bell sounded again, this time it was a middle-aged man. (y/n) could smell the alcohol on him from the register. The man looked around, stopping as he saw (y/n).
"Welll helllooo~" the man had started leaning on the counter of the register. "Yoou're a fine slut, i could show you a reeall goOod time~" He smelled even worse up close. (y/n) sent a panicked glance over to Red Hood who had dropped his things and was now walking aggressively towards the man. "Wha you ignorin me BITCH!" the man lifted his arm to strike. (y/n) flinched, lifting his arms to cover his face.
"Leave. Him. Alone." Hood's voice was dark and low. His grip on the man's arm was painful if the man's face was any indicator.
"H-hey Mr. Red Hood. me and the lil' lady were just havin a niice talk." The man had lost any confidences and aggression he once had in fount of the crime lord. "She wuz jus bein a bitch, you understaannd right?" he sniveled. A sickening crunch was heard from the mans arm where Red Hood's grip tightened. The man started convulsing with pain and screaming. (y/n) felt sick.
"I'm going to deal with this trash. I'll be right back." Hood dragged the man out of the store, bells jingling behind him. It was moments like this where (y/n) remembered just how dangerous Red Hood actually was. Living in Gotham, (y/n) had gotten unfortunately used to getting catcalled and harassed, but he could never stop the shaking of his hands and the sinking feeling in his stomach that came with it.
Moments later the bells sounded again, (y/n) couldn't help but jump slightly. It was Red Hood.
"Sorry about that kid." hood picked up the food he had dropped earlier and set it on the counter.
"Ah, it's ok." (y/n) hated how small he sounded. Taking a breath he started to scan the things hood had picked out and tried to steady himself. "It's Gotham, shit like that happens all the time."
"That doesn't make it ok." Hood sounded softer than before. (y/n) felt anger crawl up his throat, the bats always treated him like a kid. Even Robin! And he was, like, 12!
"That'll be $29.47, you want a bag?" (y/n) tried not to show his anger. As upset as he might have been, Hood did just save him from an icky situation.
"Nah." Hood picked up half of what he bought with one arm as he flipped a 50 onto the counter. "Keep the change." He started to leave.
"Hood, you're forgetting half your shit." He had left a large banana nut muffin, a pack of gummy sharks, a chocolate milk, and a packet of pizza flavored combos.
"They're for you kid, you look starving." He was out the door before (y/n) could protest.
(y/n) sighed with a light smile, well at least he wouldn't be hungry for the rest of his shift.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jason was fucking livid. This god damn BASTARD! Who the fuck did he think he was, harassing his little brother. Raising his FILTHY had at him. Jason was seething.
"RR" Jason turned his comm on.
"Jonathan Davis, 54, 237 Maple Street, apartment 122, married to Eliza Davis, daughter is Maria Davis, place of work 57 West End Road." Tim already knew, he was watching it from the security camera back at the cave.
"I only spared him so that you could make his life something worse than death." Jason staired down at the beaten and bruised body of the man.
"Don't worry. It will be." Tim's voice was cold and calculated. No doubt already planning all the ways this man would watch his life fall apart.
Jason leaned down to the barely conscious man, "If you DARE go fucking near him again, I'll leave your head for your wife and daughter to find in your fridge." the man simply looked at him with fear. Jason grabs him by the scalp, "Do you understand?" his tone was dark, made even more intimidating by the mechanical modulator.
"Y-yes! I understand! I understand!" the man cried.
"Good." Jason shoved his head back into the filthy ground of the alleyway. 'right where trash belongs' Jason thought to himself.
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rogueddie · 4 months
Text
Disabled Steve / Eddie Fics
Important: READ THE TAGS! Also, leave a comment and kudos! These fics are amazing and I love them and I hope y'all do too 🦻
give me a sign
findmeinthewychelm
It was sweet torture the way Steve was pining over him. Robin was sick of listening to him talk about Eddie, but she also hadn’t stopped him yet.
Words : 4,235 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : General Audiences
AO3 : x
what would you trade the pain for (i'm not sure)
Library_of_Gage
Steve doesn't bother anyone with his chronic pain; it's something he'd rather keep to himself. And then it spikes in the Upside Down, in front of Eddie Munson, and Steve slowly starts to learn that, sometimes, sharing what hurts does help.
Words : 8,230 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences
AO3 : x
Our Love is Shown in the Letting Go
Xxbottlecapxx
Steve’s mother comes home and has to deal with the fact that she has no idea who her son is, and maybe never will.
Words : 10,189 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Not Rated
AO3 : x
Who Am I to Say What Any of This Means?
IndigoFudge
Eddie’s eyebrows are raised. He’s speaking deliberately. “My first grade teacher set up a meeting with Wayne and told him she thought I had autism. So Wayne took me to the doctors and it turned out she was right.”
He is still looking at Steve. Oh. Steve’s been staring at him like an idiot for forty seconds instead of acknowledging this important, incredibly personal detail that he has just shared. Steve remembers eye contact––one, two, three––then answers. “That’s cool.”
“Steve,” Eddie says, carefully. “Have you ever been tested? Because I’ve been noticing… When I look at you, I kinda see some signs.”
Words : 7,371 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences
AO3 : x
she'll know me crazy, soothe me daily (better yet, she wouldn't care)
jewishrat420
Eddie doesn’t really cry about this anymore. He’s long since shed his own personal tears of pity, spent enough time mourning a different life. He’s accepted it, for the most part, doesn’t really give a shit about being normal or whatever. No one’s normal.
But this…Eddie’s not used to this. He’s never had someone hold his face in their hands, look him dead in the eyes and say, “Eddie Munson. For better or for worse, and fuck, I know this is worse, I want to know you.”
Words : 3,988 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences
AO3 : x
the beginning of a bad joke
alligator_writes
At the beginning of his rant, lecture, whatever, Hottie stares right at him. He has a really intense stare. Pretty brown eyes set in a prettier face with even prettier hair on top of his head. Eddie gets distracted by all that pretty and by trying to make his point.
And he doesn’t notice until halfway through that Hottie isn’t looking at him anymore. He’s looking at his friend.
Eddie looks at her, too. Looks at her confused and focused expression. Looks at her hands moving rapidly.
Oh. G-d.
Hottie’s deaf, isn’t he?
Words : 7,083 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences
AO3 : x
I Took The Good Times, I’ll Take The Bad Times (I Take You Just The Way You Are)
steddieeddie
In 1984, Eddie Munson told Steve he was going to marry him one day laying in the quiet confines of Steve’s room.
In 1985, they broke up. It wasn’t because they wanted to, but because Steve thought they had to. They spent almost an entire year apart, hurting, wondering about what could have been.
In 1986, Steve Harrington was almost fatally injured in the final attack against The Upside Down, against Vecna. He spent seventy six days comatose, and then almost an entire year in the hospital learning how to be a person again. He learns how to open and close his hands, hold things, and how to feed himself again. Steve learns how to stand, how to walk, going from walker to cane by the time he is allowed to go home.
In 1987, he did just that. He goes home.
It was a slow process. Way slower than Steve wanted it to be, but it was worth it.
Sure, his hands were never going to work the same, there was constant pain in his arms and left leg, and he would never walk without a cane, but at least he’s alive.
He made it.
That was what mattered.
Words : 30,101 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Mature
AO3 : x
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