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a-small-writer-in-a-big-world · 4 months

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Competition: knight!price x princess!reader

I have to thank @konig-is-bbygrl for helping me come up with the idea for this part. Thank you love!!

Price was used to being around nobles and royals.

It was his entire life, especially because he was tasked to be your personal bodyguard for nearly half his life now. He had gotten used to their delusions, to the fact that most of them are disconnected to the people they rule over, and their snobbish behavior.

What he was not used to was the fact that there were many people vying for your affection often, which meant he had to be around desperate lords and princes who made fools of themselves around you just to get you to look at them.

He cringed at their failed attempts to woo you. Their flowery words mean nothing, especially when many of them are throwing themselves at other ladies who are in their kingdom or towns when you inevitably turn them down.

He couldn’t quite understand why he found it so annoying. Maybe it was the fake devotion and empty gestures they gave that looked more like an insult to you, something he didn’t understand why you let happen, or maybe it was the fact that he knew you personally.

The lords and princes wouldn’t try for your hand if they knew who you were behind closed doors. They didn’t know who you were when he didn’t let you spend time by yourself or when you were forced to do your studies.

Or maybe, in his best judgment, they were so far beneath you that they didn’t deserve you at all. You were so much more than them, more elegant, too beautiful for them, they were not worthy as opposed to-

“You are awfully quiet, Sir John.” You spoke and brought him out of his thoughts.

Price grimaced as he spotted the flowers in your hands, no doubt from the current lords who were preparing for the jousting tournament.

An attempt by the Queen to find a proper suitor for you, something she has been adamant about doing as of late.

“What is there to say?” He grumbled and you raised an amused eyebrow.

“My, you are incredibly ornery this afternoon.” You teased and he sent you a sharp look. “Are you upset that you’re not down there?”

He glanced down from the raised platform you and the Queen sat upon above the tournament floor. Two lords were preparing, both of them too scrawny for this type of sport, too soft and not at all in their element.

It wouldn’t even be entertaining to watch.

“Why would I compete for your hand, your highness?” He wondered. “I’m already bound to you by oath and know the unfortunate fate of that.”

“The lords wouldn’t say the same.” You shot back and he watched them mount their horses.

“I’m not inclined to believe anything that falls out of their mouths.”

The lords were quick in the competition. To anyone else, their fancy swings were entertaining but to Price they were unpracticed.

He glanced at you to see if you were entertained and noticed the boredom in your eyes. He hid his smile, knowing that if it were him or his men, you’d be entertained.

The lord that won bowed to the crowd and flaunted, earning a scowl from both you and the Queen. A bad look.

“Perfect for you, your highness.” Price teased and you sent him a look.

“He’s handsome, yes.” You ignored him and he looked at the lord.

Handsome was generous, he looked rather plain to Price.

The lord walked up to you, a prideful look on his face, and gave a gaudy bow. It took everything in Price to stop himself from rolling his eyes.

“Your highness, your majesty, I thank you for this opportunity.” He said as he stood up straighter. “If it’s too much to ask, I would be honored to join you for dinner.”

“Before that, perhaps you’d like to show your skills again for us.” The Queen spoke and his face fell. “To see you win against my best knight would surely make dinner worth it.”

Price stiffened up but said nothing. The lord looked nervous while you had an unreadable look on your face.

“As you wish, your majesty.” Price bowed and made his way towards the ring.

He missed the sickly sweet words that fell from the lord’s mouth, the near pleading eyes as he spoke to you and the way you tensed up at the lack of preparation for someone so pushy.

However, he didn’t miss you giving the lord your handkerchief, of all things, as he grabbed the lance.

A spike of anger he didn’t understand rushed through him. You showed no signs of wanting the lord yet you gave him something of yours? Did you despise Price that much? Did you want him to lose that bad?

Price wasn’t one to gloat, in fact he hated it and would much rather let his skills show through action, but anyone knew that he could beat the lord easily without much straining.

You knew that too and yet you gave the pompous, worthless man your attention as if he deserved it.

Price kept his composure and didn’t break a sweat at defeating the lord almost instantly. He didn’t pay attention to the roars of cheers from everyone, especially from his own men, or the cries from the lord as he laid haunches over on the dirt.

Instead his attention was on you. He’s not sure what he expected from you but the looked of horror on your face wounded his pride a little more than he wanted.

It didn’t matter. The lord wouldn’t have your hand.

Price made his way back to you and you wasted no time in arguing with him.

“Were you trying to kill him?” You exclaimed and he raised an eyebrow.

“I was light on him. He couldn’t handle it because of who he is.” He argued and you stared at him in shock.

It was the truth. If he had been against any of his men they would’ve laughed at him for that type of treatment.

Just another testament of how the lord wasn’t a good fit and that you had made a mistake to give him something of yours.

“You should be happy. A princess who’s loose with her affections shouldn’t be vied for.” He spat and watched you glare at him in disbelief.

“You’re barbaric, someone as cruel as you should never win someone’s hand.” You curled your hands into fists and he huffed.

“It was Her Majesty who wished for me to compete, I have no desire to win you over.”

You opened your mouth to argue more before the Queen approached you both. In an instant, you both composed yourselves as best as you could, though neither do you could hide the anger you had for each other.

The Queen ignored it in favor of giving Price an approving look.

“Sir John, an excellent performance.” She complimented and he gave her a polite nod. She turned to you. “You’ll be fine without him for a few moments while I discuss the lords with you?”

“Happily.” You said from behind your teeth.

“Thank you, your majesty.” He bowed and watched you walk away with your mother.

Was he cruel? He wouldn’t say he was and yet that seemed to be all you saw him as.

He didn’t like the way that made his stomach churn.

A/n: jealous price anyone? didn’t mean to make this as long as it was oops lol

@deadbranch @makayla-666

#knight!price #captain john price #captain john price x reader #captain john price x you #price x reader #price x you #john price x reader #john price x you #price mw2 #price mw3 #princess!reader

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writerslittlelibrary · 27 days

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I'll protect you, princess au

masterlist

summary: you're the princess of the most important kingdom in the world. every illegal organisation in existence has it out for you, and after a particularly dangerous situation, that almost ended in your death, your parents have decided to give you a personal guard to protect you. what happens when this knight messes with every rule you've ever known?

pairing: knight Abby Anderson x princess reader

warnings: at one point it’s mentioned that being gay is forbidden (does that need a warning lol???)

genre: fluff, forbidden love

words: 1634

a/n: I'm not even gonna pretend that I don't fantasise at night about me being a princess, and sneaking around with knight!Abby. could you even imagine?! Abby is literally a perfect knight. she's sweet and protective and strong and god I'm experiencing gay panic

I'm imagining this to be set in a more mediaeval world, like once upon a time :)

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

|——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

Your father had always been a cautious man. Being the most powerful Royal family in the world came with its risks, and after you almost got killed last year, he had assigned you with a personal guard.

You were a bit sceptical at first, yet your father assured you she was the best trained person in the entire country. With her protecting you, nothing could happen. She was strong, and she was well trained to be able to tell whether people were sketchy or not from a mile away.

You still weren't sure, but you were quick to change your mind when you finally met her.

She was insanely attractive. She looked super strong, but when she went to introduce herself to you, she had the sweetest smile you had ever seen. She was polite, and yet she looked like she could lift you up and throw you down a cliff. To say she didn't make you feel things would be a lie.

She had been by your side for a few months now, and you couldn't deny how nice it was to be able to go out into the world without having to worry about people harassing you.

Abby was always there, no matter what you did.

Whether you went horse riding, or decided to have a little picnic by the lake, Abby would join you, and she would either keep you company, or stand at a safe distance. Whichever you preferred at the moment.

Today was one of the days that you felt like going out for a ride. The weather was great, and after the heavy rainfall you had been experiencing for the past couple days, you were craving some nice spring sunshine.

“Are you almost ready, milady?” Abby asked after knocking and opening your door.

“I'm nearly finished,” you replied, pulling your boots on and making your way towards the door. “Will Arthur be joining us today?” you asked Abby. You were oblivious to the face she made. You figured she simply did not like Arthur, but to Abby it was so much more than that.

Arthur had been the guy your parents had been pushing you towards.

You were growing up, and it was time for you to try and find a husband. Arthur was a prince who came from your neighbouring kingdom. His family was rich, and his people were pleased. His family was well respected, and because of this fact, your parents were greatly interested in a union. You, however, made no effort to show interest in Arthur, and so, your parents had decided to invite him over to your kingdom, to hopefully create a spark between you two.

It was safe to say that Arthur was head over heels for you, but you could not say the same.

He was kind, sure, but he was too sure of himself. He was convinced that every girl in the kingdom was obsessed with him, and that he was the greatest prince that the kingdom had ever seen.

Every time he made a comment about his greatness, you tried to kindly explain to him that what he was saying was probably not true. However, Abby was less kind, and every time Arthur made a comment that insulted either you, or any other girl, she was quick to shut him up.

Arthur didn't like Abby, and Abby didn't like Arthur.

“I believe I heard him say he's not very fond of horseback riding, ma'am,” Abby explained, knowing full well that she never made an effort to ask him.

You let out a sigh of relief. “That's a shame,” you said, trying, and failing, to hide your satisfaction.

“Shall we go then?” you asked Abby, who nodded and stepped aside, allowing you to exit your room and walk ahead as you made your way to the stables.

Abby walked behind you, exactly three steps, like she always did. She wasn't too close, neither was she too far. You liked it that way, unaware of the fact that Abby liked it just as much. She felt at ease, knowing she was the one protecting you.

When you arrived at the stables, your horses were already prepared. You thanked the stable boy and took the reins of your horse, waiting for Abby to copy your actions.

She did, and together you walked outside.

“Where should we go today, princess?” Abby asked, getting onto her own horse after you had gotten onto yours. You simply shrugged in reply, looking out into the forest.

“I'm not too certain. We could, perhaps, just ride around, and see where we end up?” you suggested, looking at Abby for approval. She smiled.

“Of course, princess. That is a wonderful idea.”

After riding around for a few hours, you ended up at a beautiful lake. The sun reflected off the water beautifully, and the grass field around the lake was breathtaking. You stopped there, getting off of your horse and tying it to a tree.

Abby copied your actions, tying her own horse to the tree before following you towards the water.

“What’s on your mind, princess?” Abby asked while she gave your side a slight nudge.

You sighed, looking over the water to take a moment to collect your thoughts.

“What do you think about Arthur?” you then asked Abby, who sighed and looked away from you, thinking about how to say what she wanted to say, without sounding too rude.

“I think his family is rich, and that he is the textbook definition of the perfect prince,” Abby said, turning back to look at you again. “Why do you ask?”

You sighed, turning to face Abby as well.

“I don’t think I want to marry him, but I don’t want to disappoint my parents. They appear to really like Arthur, and he seems kind enough, but he’s so full of himself. Besides that, I just don’t…” you stopped yourself, nearly spilling your deepest secret.

Abby quirked her eyebrow, looking at you with much interest now.

“You don’t… what?” she asked.

You sighed again, turning your head away from Abby.

“I am not attracted to him,” you said, hoping to satisfy Abby with your answer. Of course, she knew that that wasn’t what you were going to say.

“Not attracted to him, or to guys in general?” Abby subtly questioned, patiently waiting for your answer.

You gasped, turning to Abby like she had just spoken of the devil.

“Abby! How dare you suggest such a thing. You know that is forbidden,” you corrected her, to which Abby just smiled kindly at you.

“It is just us two here. I promise you that whatever you tell me, I shall not tell another soul,” Abby promised, reaching for your hand and rubbing circles at the back of it.

You sighed softly, gathering your courage before speaking again.

“Do you think it is wrong? To be attracted to the same gender, I mean,” you asked Abby, looking at her with questioning eyes. Abby simply shook her head.

“I don’t. Do you?”

You sighed once more, before nodding slightly.

“I am not certain. I cannot deny these feelings I have. But I cannot let it hinder me from becoming the queen my people need. One day, I will have to make an heir. I will become queen, and I will need to have children. That’s just the way it is,” you explained.

Abby smiled at you.

“You know, when you are the queen, you get to decide that. You could make new laws, that would state that the next heir, wouldn’t have to be your bloodline. You could give someone else a rightful claim to the throne,” Abby suggested, and after thinking about it for a little while, you turned to her, nodding.

“In that case, I do prefer girls. I wish I could tell the one that I like…” you confessed, and Abby smiled.

“You’re secret is safe with me, princess. And if we’re being honest here, I do prefer girls as well,” Abby confessed, chuckling at the way you head whipped around.

“You do?!” you asked in surprise, and Abby nodded.

“In fact, there happens to be a girl I like as well,” Abby told you, smiling at the hint of disappointment that flashed over your face.

“You know, I think she likes me too,” Abby then continued, waiting to see your reaction.

“Will you tell her? Will she accept it?” you asked Abby.

“That depends. May I kiss you, princess?” Abby then asked, placing her fingers under your chin to get you to face her.

You’re cheeks flushed to a bright red, but yet you still nodded, biting you lip while staring into Abby’s eyes, waiting for her next move.

Slowly, Abby leaned down, capturing your lips in a soft, passionate kiss. After she pulled away, she smiled sweetly at you.

“And? Do you think she’ll accept it?” Abby asked you, smiling when you nodded excitedly.

“I think she’ll be delighted to know you like her,” you responded, giggling when Abby gave you a small kiss on your cheek.

“We should go back to the castle. Your parents will start wondering where you are,” Abby then said. You looked around, noticing that the sun had already started setting. Your dinner would be prepared soon, and you knew how much your parents disliked you being late for dinner.

“Do you think we’ll be able to share a moment like this again…?” you asked Abby carefully after you walked towards your horse, mounting it.

“Don’t worry, princess. There will be plenty of moments like this,” Abby assured you, climbing onto her own horse and following the way home.

Maybe you feelings weren’t that scandalous at all. Maybe Abby was right. Perhaps you could bend the rules, should you become queen soon…

(Wouldn’t it be cute to make a part 2, with queen reader and Abby who find Lev, and assign him as the next heir 🫣)

Permanent tags: @marvelnatasha12346 @lesbionion @nova-kyle @darkstar225 @saraaahsstuff @marvelwomenarehot0 @screechcat @iheartjohansson @tia-thesimp @swaqcenix @karmasgxrl @marvel-lous3000 @n0txn3vee @lorsstar1st

#abby anderson x reader #abby and lev #abby x reader #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby anderson #tlou au #tlou fanfic #tlou2 #tlou #the last of us #the last of us part 2 #the last of us fic #the last of us part two #wlw #lesbian #reader insert #lev tlou #yara tlou

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hero-israel · 6 months

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#4 sounds like white people at the end of slavery… “we didn’t want to end it because what if there’s retaliation? There have already been slave riots. Imagine what would happen if we gave them freedom or if we became the minority?” It’s not speculative it actually happened the fears had basis. That’s what number four sounds like. It also feels like you only care about one view point like you expect me to believe y’all are perfect victims that did one thing in retaliation?

#4 sounds like that to you because you are an American who thinks the whole world is America and all history must be the same as yours. So you should start by asking yourself what it is in your cultural upbringing, and what in the media you consume, that has you automatically believing the worst possible claims against Jews, to the point of seeing it as understandable for us to be mass murdered.

Jews did not - and do not - want to live in an Arab or Muslim majority society not because of any issues related to "slave uprisings" you are teleporting into this discussion, but rather because Jews had already been brutally oppressed, persecuted, and genocided by Arabs and Muslims for 1,000+ years before Israel or political Zionism were ever invented. Mohammed himself got his hands dirty with this, wiping out the Jews of Yathrib and renaming the gore-drenched rubble into something called "Medina." No less a source than Maimonides wrote in 1172 "God has entangled us with this people, the nation of Ishmael, who treat us so prejudicially and who legislate our harm and hatred…. No nation has ever arisen more harmful than they, nor has anyone done more to humiliate us, degrade us, and consolidate hatred against us... We bear the inhumane burden of their humiliation, lies and absurdities, being as the prophet said, ‘like a deaf man who does not hear or a dumb man who does not open his mouth’.... Our sages disciplined us to bear Ishmael’s lies and absurdities, listening in silence, and we have trained ourselves, old and young, to endure their humiliation, as Isaiah said, ‘I have given my back to the smiters, and my cheek to the beard pullers.’”

Because there is a long history of this, there is much you can read about it, if you care.

Some very random examples:

The "badge of shame" was invented in medieval Baghdad, only later migrating to Europe

Life for Jews in Yemen: The Jews of Yemen were treated as pariah, third-class citizens who needed to be perennially reminded of their submission to the ruling faith…The Jews were considered to be impure, and therefore forbidden to touch a Muslim or a Muslim’s food. They were obliged to humble themselves before a Muslim, to walk on his left side, and to greet him first. They were forbidden to raise their voices in front of a Muslim. They could not build their houses higher than the Muslims’ or ride a camel or horse, and when riding on a mule or donkey, they had to sit sideways. Upon entering a Muslim quarter, a Jew had to take off his footgear and walk barefoot. No Jewish man was permitted to wear a turban or carry the Jambiyyah (dagger), which was worn universally by the free tribesmen of Yemen. If attacked with stones or fist by Islamic youth, a Jew was not allowed to defend himself. Further, the Jews were forced to wear sidelocks or peots. The wearing of such long and dangling peots “was originally a source of great shame for the Yemenites. It was decreed by the imams to distinguish the Jews from the Muslims”. More degrading and insulting decrees to the Jews were the Atarot (Headgear) and Latrine Decrees. The former was a seventeenth-century decree forbidding the Jews to wear a headcovering or turbans. The Latrine Decree was a nineteenth-century edict in which the Jews were forced to clean out public toilets and remove animal dung and carcasses from the streets. Another discriminatory edict was the Orphan Decree which gave the Zaydis the right to convert to Islam any child under the age of thirteen whose father is dead. Further, evidence by a Jew against a Muslim was invalid and a “Jew was forbidden to pass a Muslim to his right, and whoever did so, even unwittingly, could be beaten without trial; the Jews were forbidden to make their purchases before the Muslims had completed theirs; a Jew entering the house of an Arab or the office of an official was only allowed to sit down in the place where the shoes were removed” . Tudor Parfitt summarizes some of these laws in the following: [the Jews] were required not to insult Islam, never strike a Muslim, or to impede him in his path. They were not to assist each other in any activity against a Muslim…They were not to build new places of worship or repair existing one…They were not to pray too noisily or hold public religious processions. They were not to wink. They were not to proselytize. They were not to bear arms. They were required to dress in a distinctive fashion in order not to be mistaken for a member of the Muslim occupying forces. In other words dhimmis had all the times to behave themselves in an unostentatious and unthreatening manner, one appropriate to a defeated and humbled subject people. They were to avoid the slightest show of triumphalism and they were forbidden any activity that could lead to proselytization. Yemenite Jews were “excluded as it almost always…from affairs of state, and from the great institutions of the country”

1941 Farhud pogrom (Iraq)

1929 Hebron Massacre ("They cut off hands, they cut off fingers, they held heads over a stove, they gouged out eyes. A rabbi stood immobile, commending the souls of his Jews to God – they scalped him. They made off with his brains. On Mrs. Sokolov’s lap, one after the other, they sat six students from the yeshiva and, with her still alive, slit their throats. They mutilated the men. They shoved thirteen-year-old girls, mothers, and grandmothers into the blood and raped them in unison....")

1921 Jaffa Riots

1920 Nebi Musa Riots

1910 Shiraz Blood Libel (Iran) ("In the middle of the 19th century, J. J. Benjamin wrote about the life of Persian Jews: "…they are obliged to live in a separate part of town…; for they are considered as unclean creatures… Under the pretext of their being unclean, they are treated with the greatest severity and should they enter a street, inhabited by Mussulmans, they are pelted by the boys and mobs with stones and dirt… For the same reason, they are prohibited to go out when it rains; for it is said the rain would wash dirt off them, which would sully the feet of the Mussulmans… If a Jew is recognized as such in the streets, he is subjected to the greatest insults. The passers-by spit in his face, and sometimes beat him… unmercifully… If a Jew enters a shop for anything, he is forbidden to inspect the goods… Should his hand incautiously touch the goods, he must take them at any price the seller chooses to ask for them... Sometimes the Iranians intrude into the dwellings of the Jews and take possession of whatever please them. Should the owner make the least opposition in defense of his property, he incurs the danger of atoning for it with his life... If... a Jew shows himself in the street during the three days of the Katel (the start of Muharram)…, he is sure to be murdered")

1840 Damascus Blood Libel (Syria)

1839 Allahdad Pogrom (Iran)

1834 Hebron Massacre

1834 Looting of Safed

1700 Jerusalem oppression / apartheid: ("Muslims are very hostile to Jews and inflict upon them vexations in the streets of the city… the common folk persecute the Jews, for we are forbidden to defend ourselves against the Turks or the Arabs. If an Arab strikes a Jew, he (the Jew) must appease him but dare not rebuke him, for fear that he may be struck even harder, which they (the Arabs) do without the slightest scruple...")

1679 Mawza Exile (Yemen)

1660 Destruction of Safed

1500s Iran: ("After the ascension of Shah ‘Abbas II the Jews of Isfahan faced a lot of persecution. Most communities were forced to convert to Islam. Furthermore those who refused to convert would have most of their inheritance taken away as the inheritance laws at the time allowed for those who converted to Shia Islam to inherit the property of non-Muslim family members. Some communities did not convert and were thus forced to wear a special badge to show that they were Jewish. The maltreatment of the Jews weakened their community ties and influence throughout the region. By 1889 there were only around four hundred Jewish families left in Isfahan and most very poor.... by the middle 20th century 80% of the Jews of Isfahan lived on the verge of poverty.")

There's so much more I really don't know where to start or where to end. Afghanistan revoked all Jewish citizenship in 1933. Turkey banned all Jewish names and held massive antisemitic pogroms in 1934. Iraq banned Hebrew schools and Hebrew names in 1936, pogroms throughout Libya 1945, Syria fired all Jewish government employees 1946. Tripoli pogrom 1785. Algiers 1805. Cairo 1844. Istanbul 1870. Safed 1517 and 1799. Jerusalem 1665 and 1720. Granada Massacre 1066. Fez Massacre 1033. How many Wiki links do you want, how many textbooks?

This is an old, old conflict, and the Americanized "colonizer / slave plantation" frame is off-topic.

#Arab antisemitism #Muslim antisemitism #Judaism #Israel #Palestine #jumblr

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ghost-proofbaby · 1 year

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twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

in which eddie munson and you absolutely hate each other's guts. what happens when your friends make a bet that you can't spend more than twenty four hours consecutively together?

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, eventual smut, upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ pairings: modern!college!eddie x college!fem!reader

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

next part▷

0:00 ㅇ────────────────── 24:00

PROLOGUE: A BET (wc: 557)

“I hate you, I mean it. I hate your fucking guts, Edward Munson.”

The room is hazy, clouds of smoke filling the crowded basement as the movie the friend group had originally been watching is left forgotten and playing out on the buzzing TV screen. Half full bottles of beer are scattered across the coffee table.

“Oh, we’re using government names now, are we? Don’t tempt me with a good time, sweetheart.”

It’s the way he says the nickname, sweetheart, that alights fresh hatred that pumps through your veins. He knows the way the pet name gets beneath your skin, the way it irritates you to no end. He’s saying it on purpose.

“Don’t call me that,” you spit venomously, going red in the face from your rage now rather than the alcohol.

He’s sitting in the chair across the table from you, reveling in the way you get riled up, smirking as he spreads his knees out and leans back in his chair comfortably.

You nearly grab your own beer bottle in front of you and chuck it at his head. For a moment, you imagine the joy that would replace the vexation in your chest in seeing the glass shatter against his inflated ego.

“Why? It’s just a friendly nickname, sweethe-” he starts to egg you on, but this time, someone else in the room has half the mind to interrupt.

“Eddie, stop fucking with her,” Steve sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he stands, “God, you two always do this.”

“He started it!”

“She pissed me off first!”

You both shout at the same time, heads snapping in Steve’s direction. Eddie’s cool exterior has finally begun to crack, his frustration for you seeping out.

It’s palpable. Flaming ire fills the air, equal parts yours and his, meeting somewhere in the middle and nearly causing a catastrophic implosion that Steve barely manages to avoid.

“You two sound like children!” he yells, matching the hysteria. Robin and Nancy share a look behind his shoulders.

“That’s because he acts like one,” you retort. Your arms cross against your chest painfully tight, and you ironically are the one who now resembles a toddler mid-tantrum.

Eddie’s eyes widen as he glances at you, sneering as he says, “Me? Jesus, get off your fucking high horse.”

“I’m not on a high horse. I’m just stating a fact.”

“Fact? I’m not the one who’s pouting like a petulant child.”

“Can you go ten seconds without insulting me?”

“Can you?”

“I’ll show you a fucking insul-”

“Enough,” Johnathan groans this time, leaning his head back on the loveseat he occupies with Argyle. Most of the clouds of smoke have come from their side of the room, the joint they’d been passing back and forth still lit as it hangs between Johnathan’s fingers delicately, “You know what? I bet you two couldn’t go twenty four hours without insulting each other. And I’m willing to put my money where my mouth is.”

“I can do you one better,” Robin quips, sitting up as she sits cross-legged beside you, “I bet they couldn’t last twenty four hours straight being around each other without killing each other.”

“How much?” Eddie suddenly asks.

“What?”

“How much do you bet?”

And that’s how it starts.

The beginning of the worst twenty four hours of your life.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #twenty four hours #partyyyy

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heedmywarnings · 1 year

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One last time

(Full Chapter)

In which you insult them one last time. (Aka me insulting pixels even tho I'm on Hiatus)

(Written when I was on Hiatus lmfao)

Warning: Cursing, lots of them.

》 - Chapter 2

Masterlist

♤~-~♤

You were finally captured. It took three months to get where you are, standing before you are the Archons who participated in the hunt, and now they will execute you.

"Before you here, is the Impostor that stole our beloved deity's face" Barbatos started, looking down upon the people, "As if you didn't" you said, barely a whisper "Would you like to repeat that, thief?" The Goddess of Justice whispered on your ear as she pulled your hair, "I SAID, AS IF YOU DIDN'T" you repeated, the crowd gasps because they are very very shocked because they gasped.

Also this moon cake im eating doenst taste good.

"What?"

"You were born from the desires of people, meaning if Decarabian wasn't a tyrant then you wouldn't even be born!" The crowd screams defending the Wind God, "Oh come on! He stole the face of his DEAD friend!" You yelled, "Don't get me started with how he abandoned his nation for the tyrants to just invade Mond. Lady Venessa freed Mondstadt from the Lawrence clan!" Technically, Venti did help but you need to get the crowd on your side.

"That's enough," Ei said approaching you as she unsheath her sword, "You also abandoned your nation! What? because your sister, THE TRUE RULER of Inazuma died?" At this point everyone is appalled.

"T-"

"Don't even get me started with you, you rat tailed motherfucker. You literally made a deal with the fatui, you knew Childe was gonna summon Osial and you let it happen. More so, you faked your own death because you didn't feel like ruling over Liyue? Or was it because you finally understood that you're just incapable of being an Archon? The only reason you survived the Archon War was the adepti and yaksha that you expended!"

"..."

"And who's to say you didn't commit any crime?" Ei said after the shock had dissipated, "What crime!? How do you think a mere mortal were to steal a God's face!?" You screamed through a horse voice, now you've got everyone talking, (like the jury in the Ace Attorney.)

"Is your god suffering from sever little-bitchitis to the point you'd hunt anybody who look REMOTELY similar to them?"

The Archons were stunned, it seemed like you made everyone hold their breathe. "Such blasphemy won't go unforgi-" "I don't need your forgiveness, you cockroach arthritis-suffering bitch," you cut Zhongli off.

"Hey now...let's not say something will regret, huh?" Nahida said, through the familiar gentle voice, "I won't regret anything that comes out of my mouth." You replied, not finding any reasons why Nahida should be insulted.

"By far, the only Archon that ever helped the Traveller was the Dendro Archon! And she was even locked up!" You said, "You, Barbatos, you just avoided any talk about traveller's twin. Morax, why did you sign a contract that silences you about their twin? Do they scare you that much? Are you really that weak and pathetic?" You said apathetically and sarcastically.

"I am under a contract, and I must abide by that contract," Zhongli replied with a more... confident form, you can't wait to crush it, "Didn't you also sign a contract with the mortals of Teyvat that you'd never hurt them? WELL WHAT ABOUT ME? WHY AM I AM EXCEPTION?" Technically, he didn't, but if they were gonna use lies and deception to win this argument, you might as well do the same.

"Because you're nothing but an Impostor, not even worthy to be called human" Ei said, striking her blade on your thigh, you gasped in pain. "Hah! And what are you? You were an Impostor that created another Impostor because you can't handle the guilt of being one!" At this point it was useless to argue, they were pissed off but the people? They don't believe you, but they've also lost faith to their Gods.

And so, what did you achieve? Death and your name on the history textbooks saying that you were the reason that Teyvat rebelled against their Gods...

So, are you ready to resurrect later in life to attack the Archons (verbally) once more?

Next chapter coming out idk when

#sagau #genshin impact sagau #genshin impact #self aware genshin #sagau cult au #imposter sagau #sagau impostor au

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dyns33 · 5 days

Text

Family respect

Alfie and his Shelby wife are back for more adventures.

"He's back." was the first thing Ada said to her when she picked up the phone, and that was enough for Y/N to understand who she was talking about.

If she had hardly known her mother, who died when she was young, she had not really known her father well either, while he was still alive.

The relationship between Arthur Shelby Sr. and his family had always been complicated. Long before Y/N was found by Polly when she was still a child, abandoned in an orphanage.

It had been luck or fate that her father quickly spoke of her in a letter sent to his sister, writing that he had made a little mistake during a trip. That was what he named Y/N, his little mistake.

The rest of Shelby didn't see her that way. They had adored her from the moment they saw the girl, welcoming her as if she had always been there, as if they had the same mother, and protecting her against this drunken and tyrannical father.

There was still respect for the elders. This notion was important to the romani, and some therefore found it difficult to completely rebel against the man despite his many faults.

This was especially difficult for Arthur. He admired him when he was younger, and even though he often stood up for his brothers and sisters, he blindly followed him in all his dangerous plans.

He had often gotten into trouble because of their father. Tommy was very angry with him for that.

This naivety was undoubtedly one of the reasons why it was not Arthur who managed the family affairs even though he was the oldest.

He never complained about it. As he followed their father, he followed Thomas without question, recognizing that his little brother was smarter, more stubborn, better at business and discussion.

But the few times their father had passed through Birmingham again, he had criticized this absurd hierarchy, and even if Arthur eventually bowed his head to Tommy, there were always several days when he was at their father's side, ready to believe that he had changed.

“Where is Thomas ?” Y/N asked her sister, because she didn't want to hear more about their father at the moment.

"Probably in one of the neighboring farms, with horses, to calm down and stop himself from shooting someone between the eyes."

"And the others ?"

"Polly is talking to them in the kitchen. She thinks dad wants something. Money probably. He'll leave quickly when he gets what he's looking for. But I'm afraid of what will happen in the meantime."

"I'll take care of it. I'll find Arthur." Y/N promised, because absolutely anything could happen to Arthur Senior, no one would be sad, but leaving her brother was out of the question.

Ollie asked nothing when she ordered him to send his best men to look for her older brother, and to watch what he was doing. He just nodded, calling her "Madam Solomons" with great respect.

According to Alfie, she had seduced the poor boy, as well as many of his employees, the residents of Candem, and even the dog.

"Before, Cyril sat with me by the fire. Now he moans by the door until you come home. Where have you been, love ?"

“You know very well where I was.”

"Damn right. With Tommy, dear Tommy. Tell me, treacle, why are my men outside a bar instead of working, uh ? Because when I asked Ollie, he just shrugged his shoulders, saying that those were the orders, but I didn’t give those orders. Remind me who’s in charge here ?”

“Cyril.”

"Very funny, love. Hilarious. Why are my men following this crazy dog who serves as your brother ?"

Of course Y/N could have told him. It would have been simple, and Alfie would have sighed and muttered insults, because the whole thing was nonsense and he didn't really care because it wasn't his family.

Since it wasn't his family, she decided there was no need for him to know the details.

There was no need for him to hear about her father.

So she simply replied that Arthur was in trouble, which wasn't a lie, and that she was just checking to make sure he wasn't going to end up in prison, or worse.

If he noticed that she was hiding something, her husband accepted it, growling when he saw that she was petting the dog before giving him attention.

Several days passed, and Arthur Shelby Sr did not leave. The whole community was nervous, which made the London underground scene much more dangerous than usual.

So Y/N went by herself to look for her brother in the tenth pub he had visited this week, finding him alone at the counter while their father was talking with some men in another room.

"Little sis ! In my arms !" shouted the eldest cheerfully, hugging her tenderly.

“Come home with me.”

"I can't. Dad needs me for a case. A big thing."

"You know very well how this is going to end. It always ends the same way."

"You sound like Tommy… He's changed this time. He wants to make amends, he has the right for a chance."

"He got more chances than Judas got silver coins, Arthur. Please."

"Y/N ? Is that you ? You grew up, I almost didn't recognize you ! Beautiful. When I think that I saw you as a mistake, I was wrong, right, son ? A charming girl, all men would want her."

In that moment, she saw in her brother's eyes that he knew he had a choice. He could defend her, saying that no one talked about his little sister like that, not even their father. He could also keep quiet, nodding his head and not talking about her marriage.

But he had drunk a lot, and despite all this time he still had resentment towards Alfie, so he opened his stupid mouth.

“She married a Jew.”

Their father turned to Arthur with a huge frozen smile, waiting for a follow-up to this joke, before looking at Y/N again with a darker look, understanding that he was serious.

"… A Jew ? You married a pompous old cheapskate ?"

"Arthur, come home with me." Y/N insisted, trying to ignore everything around her brother.

"He's not just pompous, he's crazy. And a coward. And mean. He can't be trusted. I'm sure he's putting on an act to get to us, holding Y/N hostage."

"Well said, son. It's quite possible that's what happening. They know how to play, those dirty rats."

"Arthur, come home with me."

"I knew right away he was evil. Even before he killed Billy and betrayed us. I don't know why Tommy agreed to work with him again, or give him our sister's hand."

"Thomas has always been less clever than you. They're a bit sodomite, you know ? He was able to seduce several of us for sure."

"No… No, that bastard son of a bitch, I'll kill him."

"Arthur, insult my husband once more and you will never see me again."

The threat caught her brother's attention for a second, like the tears in her eyes, but their father continued to criticize Alfie, and as always Arthur followed him blindly, considering that nothing could happen to him if he imitated his father.

A hand then rested on her shoulder, while she hesitated between crying and hitting him. Alfie's smile was quick, only for her, as he held her close, watching the two Arthurs who were surprised to see him.

Y/N thought he would say something, but he only placed a kiss on her forehead, leading her outside, to the car that took them home.

"… I'm sorry."

"Why, treacle ? Because your father is an asshole and your brother is a moron ? I don't see how this is your fault."

“I’m still sorry.”

"Nothing I haven't already heard. I promise I've never slept with Tommy."

"You are not funny." she whispered as she sobbed, letting the tension leave her body. He muttered that she was probably right as he took her in his arms, not knowing what to do to comfort her.

It was not easy to lose a family member. Y/N had been close to all of her siblings, but Arthur had always been there for her, like she had always been there for him, standing up for him, respecting his ideas, making sure he was okay.

She loved him, but she also loved her husband, and she could not tolerate him being insulted like this. If she said she wouldn't talk to him anymore, then she wouldn't talk to him anymore.

So it was a shock to find him in the middle of her living room the next day, holding his cap with two hands, looking miserable and embarrassed. Y/N almost told him to leave, before seeing Alfie standing in the corner, tapping the ground with his cane.

"Well, come on, mate. The lady is waiting."

"… I'm sorry, lil sis."

“Where is father ?”

"In prison, I think. He organized bets, the coppers caught him. They would have had me if… I mean if…"

"If I hadn't saved his sorry ass." Alfie translated, raising his eyebrows when Arthur growled at him. "Maybe I should have left him, he made you cry after all and I didn't like it."

"Y/N… I'm sorry. Your husband is a cunt, but… But he's not that bad, I think. I see that you're happy and he treats you well. I want you happy. I'll try… If he doesn't deserve it, I won't knock his teeth out."

"Mazel tov ! I'll buy you a drink, brother-in-law, but I don't drink and I want you to leave. Well, come one. Out."

Her husband still gave Arthur time to hug his sister, who accepted his apologies on the condition that he finally stopped following their father in his usual bullshit.

To avoid any problems, she only notice out loud after he had left that he had not winced when Alfie called him "brother-in-law".

“Hangover, probably.”

"Or he considers you part of the family now. Normally it's Polly, Tommy, John or me who keep him from completely tripping."

"If you hadn't cried, I would have let him drown in his beer and piss, treacle."

"I wonder how the cops knew, our father is often quite secretive. He moslty ruins everything by wanting more money or insulting someone."

"Oh. Someone who looks like Ollie may or may not have called the police on orders from their boss." Alfie muttered, pouting a little.

"… Arthur will kill you if he finds out."

"He said you were a mistake. Nobody says my wife is a mistake. Would you rather he be in jail or at the bottom of the Thames ? Now I'm sleepy, love. I've been running all night to find your stupid brother, come to bed with me."

“It’s nine in the morning.”

"So what ?"

The only true thing her brother had said was that Alfie was insane, but that wasn't a bad thing. His madness was charming, tender and funny, and if one day they had children, he would be the most protective and caring father in the world.

You only had to see him with Cyril to be sure, even if he slammed the door in the dog's face to be alone for a few hours, only letting him in because he couldn't concentrate anymore. cause of the squealing.

"There you go. Before, he stayed on the ground, now he jumps in my place to press against you, while it's me who opens the door for him despite the cold and my poor back."

“Shut up Alfie and go back to sleep.”

"It is noon."

"Come here."

"Very well, damn woman. You will explain to my men why I was not at work."

Since they had all heard about Y/N's family troubles, they adored her, and were quite happy that the boss wasn't there to yell at them, no one asked Y/N why Alfie had been absent. They even gave her flowers, which greatly annoyed the King of Camden.

They didn't ask if he wanted flowers too. The Shelby sent him some gifts, bottles, money and a horse, without having to say why, and Alfie was in a weird mood for the rest of the day.

Y/N only smiled, knowing that he was lost but proud to be accepted by her family.

#peaky blinders #alfie solomons #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons imagine #afie solomons fanfiction #shelby reader

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fan-fantasies · 11 months

Text

Perfect Timing

A/N: this isn’t great but I have baby fever and this helps lmao I needed some fluff in my life

Pairing: Osferth x reader

Warnings: mentions of sex, pregnancy

“You look nervous, baby monk,” Finan chuckled as he looked over at his friend.

“Wouldn’t have to do with a certain, pretty Dane would it?” Uhtred added.

Osferth’s face heated up at their words but he refused to answer. Truth is, he was nervous. He hadn’t seen you in months and he wondered if you would welcome him back with open arms. The two of you didn’t leave on bad terms, quite the opposite actually. But Osferth couldn’t help but get in his head about things, especially concerning his feelings for you.

“I wonder if she’ll even remember ya. I told you you should’ve given her a parting gift,” Finan winked. Osferth scowled but it was soon overtaken with a look of nervousness when the gates of your village appeared in the distance.

The men led their horses to the stables to be fed and watered and then sought out the ale house to do the same for themselves. Osferth tried not to look too eager as his eyes scanned every inch of the town he passed through, looking for any sign of you.

“We don’t serve riff raff in these parts!” The ale house owner yelled when she noticed them walking in, a joking smile on her face.

Uhtred hugged her before settling down at a table. Ale was poured but it didn’t to much to ease the young man’s nerves. His eyes kept darting around and his friends noticed.

“Madame, does (y/n) still live in this town?” Sihtric asked the owner, causing Osferth to nearly choke on his ale. The woman eyed Osferth for a moment before turning to Sihtric.

“She does. She usually spends her evenings down by the river. The cool water eases her,” she said. Osferth became worried that you were ill, wondering what the older woman meant.

“Sounds like we should take a trip to the river,” Finan said.

The men all missed you and regretted leaving you behind in the town. But the open road was no place for a lady such as yourself, no matter how tough you acted. Uhtred wouldn’t have been able to live with himself if something had happened to you while with them.

You were always so kind to them and took them in while they were in hiding. They quickly adopted you into their family and were anxious to see you. No one more than Osferth though.

As they approached the river, they could see a figure with their back turned to them up ahead. You stared out at the sunset, lost in your thoughts, so much so that you didn’t hear them approaching.

“That’s quite the view!” Uhtred called out, causing you to jump. You spun around without even thinking at the voice of your friend.

Their eyes all fell to your arms that were cradling your swollen stomach. Your eyes widened as you realized what they were staring at.

“I see there is much catching up to do,” Sihtric chuckled. All of the men had smiles on their faces except for Osferth, who was too stunned to move.

“Os…” you whispered. His eyes were glued to your stomach and you felt almost uncomfortable under his gaze. All color drained from his face. The men looked between the two of you before realizing.

“That’s not quite what I meant by a parting gift, baby monk,” Finan mumbled to him.

“I think we should give them a moment,” Uhtred said. “Come and find us after. We have missed you.”

“I’ve missed you all too,” you said sincerely.

Your heart was racing as they walked off, leaving you and Osferth alone.

“I would’ve written, but I didn’t know how to get a letter to you,” you said.

“Is it…?” He pointed at himself and you frowned.

“I’m almost insulted, Osferth. Of course it’s yours,” you scoffed. His hands grabbed yours and he finally looked at your face.

“I’m sorry, I just…it was one time,” he mumbled.

“And that’s all it takes,” you sighed. “Don’t feel obligated to be in our lives. It was an accident.”

You pulled away from him and turned back to the sunset. You had imagined this moment a hundred times, and you often hoped that he would be accepting of it, maybe even excited.

“I’m just surprised, is all. I have thought of you every moment since we left and I just never imagined such a blessing in my life.”

He wanted to hold you, to take you in his arms and never let go, but he was afraid to touch you. He was scared to harm you in some way so he refrained.

“You’re all I’ve thought about since the moment I met you,” you admitted. He knew you were fond of him, and him of you, or else you wouldn’t be in your current predicament.

You trusted Osferth and that’s why you allowed him into your bed months prior. You were both tired of being virgins and sought comfort with one another, promising that it would not negatively affect your friendship.

It certainly did affect your relationship, however, you just weren’t sure if it was for better or for worse.

“How long will you be staying for this time?” You asked.

“How long until the babe is here?”

“I’m told it will be soon.”

“I will stay as long as possible, until you and the babe are healthy enough to travel and then we will return to Rumcofa. If that is okay with you, that is,” he quickly added.

“You should like us to come with you?”

He reached out for you again and ever so softly took your hand.

“I would’ve liked it 9 months ago and I would love it now.”

“I was so worried we would never see you again. Or if you did return you’d be upset with me.”

Yours eyes were cast down on your feet and he gently lifted your chin so you could meet his gaze.

“My love is going to bless me with a child of our own, how could I ever be mad at that? I’m only sorry I never told you how I truly felt before and left you with any shred of doubt.”

Tears began to slip down your cheeks and he was scared he said something wrong.

“Oh I’m sorry, I’m so emotional these days,” you sighed, quickly wiping your face.

“You have nothing to apologize for, sweetheart. May I hug you?” He asked. You quickly nodded and you laughed at how cautious he was taking you in his arms.

You nuzzled into him and finally felt peace for the first time in months. Osferth jumped back suddenly when he felt something move against him.

“Was that…?”

“Here, place your hand here,” you said, putting his hand on your stomach. Tears filled his eyes as he felt his child dancing in your belly. “It seems she knows her father is here.”

“You believe it’ll be a girl?” He asked, his eyes lighting up as he felt the movement again.

“I’ve dreamt of her, of the three of us,” you said quietly. He knelt down and laid his head against you.

“Hello, my sweet girl. I bet you’ll be beautiful just like mama. I already love you so much, just like I do your mother,” he whispered.

“You’re going to make me cry again,” you sniffled. He rose to his feet and took your face in his hands. He pressed a sweet kiss to your lips that melted away all of your previous tears.

“Let’s get you into bed. It’s getting late,” he said.

“That’s how we got into this situation in the first place,” you joked.

“It is, and I wouldn’t change it for the world,” he laughed.

He brought you back to your house where your friends were already making themselves at home.

They all congratulated you and were thrilled to learn you wanted to return to Rumcofa with them once the time was right.

A few days later and you held your newborn baby girl in your arms. Osferth was a great support during the birth and the first time he took her in his arms, his entire world stopped. He praised god for this blessing and for the timing of his return to you.

He finally had a family of his own and he swore one day he’d make you his wife to show his love and appreciation for you.

And they lived happily ever after and nothing had ever happens again.

#osferth #Osferth x reader #osferth the last kingdom #Osferth fluff #ewan mitchell fluff #ewan mitchell #the last kingdom

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thecuriousquest · 6 months

Text

Yan!Yuji One Shot

Yandere Yuji Itadori x Fem!Reader

Tag List: @issamomma @repostingmyfavs @chickennugnugnug @palesweetscherryblossom

@murderofravens Thanks for the idea!

Warnings: Yandere themes, NSFW, Yuji is a pervert, underwear sniffing, blow job, manipulation, threats, degradation

Master List

—————————————————————————

Yuji is in your closet, sniffing your underwear and touching himself when you walk in and open the door to change into some comfy clothes.

“Yuji? What the hell are you doing in my room?!”

“Oh…uh…nothing really. Hey, while I’m here, think I can get some head?”

You look at him like he’s just grown six arms. “Excuse me?”

He pockets your underwear and steps out of the closet, closing the distance between you two.

“Yeah, I had a really bad day. Could use that pretty mouth for some stress relief. What do you say? I can make you feel good after too if you want.”

“Yuji, what world are you living in? Because it’s not the real one.”

He makes a hmph noise from deep within his throat. “I could always switch with Sukuna. Bring him out to play. He wouldn’t be as nice as me. He wouldn’t give you a choice.”

Yuji puts a hand on your arm like he’s giving you an option by threatening to bring out the king of curses.

“Sukuna might even rough you up not just a bit but a lot. He might make you bleed, might make you scream so bad you go hoarse. You don’t want that, right?”

You look around for an escape, but Yuji is in the way of the door.

You really don’t want him to switch with Sukuna. That would be bad. Ryomen is notorious for his violence, and you can’t fathom being on the receiving end of his merciless nature.

Looking at Yuji with a frown, you ask him, “If I do this, you won’t switch with Sukuna?”

“No, baby, just be an obedient slut, and nothing bad will happen. I’ll keep you safe from that monster.”

The monster living inside of him. The monster he just threatened you with.

To avoid being hurt, you nod and wipe the sweat off of your hands with your thighs.

“Great! Alright then!” He sits his happy ass down on your bed and pulls his cock free from his uniform trousers. Shit, he’s hung like a horse, already hard.

You have to admit, he does have a rather pretty-boy-looking dick. It’s pink, and girthy with a thick vein running down the side. You’re sure it slaps his thigh when he walks.

Fuck, how are you going to get that down the back of your throat?

You don’t have to find out as his lengthy fingers take hold of your locks delicately before pumping your head up and down on his fat sword as you kneel in front of him. The floor digs into your knees, and you feel your shins beginning to ache.

The pinkette sounds pretty satisfied with all of those pleasurable grunts coming straight from the depth of his chest. You look up at him, his head is thrown back so that all you can see is the angle of his chin.

Anything to keep Sukuna from coming out. You can deal with this, you can handle it.

He presses you a little deeper onto him, your nose bumping against his pubic hair, eliciting a gag as he hits that little spot in the back of your throat.

Salty dewdrops build upon your lashes, cascading downwards in rivers. The sticky feeling against your cheeks paired with the drool and mix of precome on your chin has Yuji’s cock twitching in your throat.

“Oh, fuck, baby, such a good whore. Fuck. So good and pretty. Got such a nice mouth too. You like using your mouth to please people? Yeah, you don’t like running it, you just like using it relieve me. Such a nice, submissive little thing.”

You’re not sure what to make of this praise. It’s so…condescending. So patronizing. You’re not sure if he’s actually praising you or if he’s just insulting you at this point.

He shoves your head down again, your gagging like a beautiful symphony to his ears. You feel his thighs tense up beneath your palms. You can’t breathe, nose clogged from all of the activity. Feeling so light in the head, it’s refreshing once he lets your head up a little as he comes in your mouth.

It’s a tad bit salty, and your nose scrunches at the taste. Finally, he lets go of your hair and pets your head. Your mouth pops off of his cock, and you pant and gasp for deep breaths.

“That was really good. Thanks, Y/N! Maybe, I can come back tonight and give you some stress relief too?”

Wiping your face with your sleeve, you wrap your arms around yourself and look at the floor. “Yuji…I don’t know.”

“Well, if you don’t want Sukuna to come out…” the threat hangs silently on the edge of his sentence.

After what you just did for him, you can’t believe he’d threaten you with Sukuna again.

“Okay, Yuji. You can come back tonight.”

“Great! I have to do some training with Megumi, so I’ll see you later!”

You breathe a sigh of relief once he’s out of your room, closing the door with a click behind him.

What Yuji decides to keep from you is the fact that he can no longer switch with Sukuna at will, but it’s nothing you need to know about.

#yandere #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling #yandere themes #triggering content #triggering themes #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen #jjk yuji #yandere yuji itadori #yandere yuji #yuji itadori #yandere yuji itadori x reader

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campbell-rose · 8 months

Text

Helluva Rewrite: Blitzø

ft Loona doodles :) Alright first off sorry this took so long i got a job lol

A large part of his character is the fact that he used to be a clown, so I took a bit of two face in this design and accentuated the scarring on the left side of his face. I decided to give him the circular cheek bits to allude to the clown as well as ruffling his collar under the clothes. He’s the most complex design of the IMP so far, aside from Loona’s multiple spots, so i tried to keep the colors simple but distinct from M&M. I took the spikes and put them on his clothes – as in he puts on thorns to keep people away. I think a pink tone suits his more lusty character.

Now as for his character... I'll be honest I struggled with him for a bit. I wasn’t entirely sure where I wanted his character to go or how serious this rewrite would take the drama Viv wants to write. I adore writing deep characters, so I suppose I’m going to have to take The Office’s approach of being a comedy with moving parts. There are overarching plot lines in this version, that being Moxxie’s mafia ties coming back to haunt him, Blitzo’s past coming back to fuck him over in the form of everything about him, and Millie’s insecurities fucking her over when it counts. Maybe the series underlying theme is how running from your problems doesn’t work. Idk, because I also like the whole monster of the week type assassin gigs they do. I’ll make it work.

So now, introducing the new and improved Blitzø!

Blitzø is a mixed imp, his father being from Greed and his mother being from Lust. As such he’s a very poor mix of bad traits. He’s hypersexual (to the point of disturbing others), greedy as fuck (as he underpays Millie and Moxxie), is greatly attached to and possessive of those he likes (hence his smothering of Loona and stalking of M&M), and tends to think with his dick in most situations which get him into quite a few pickles (hehe pickle)

Alright, so personality wise he is just about the same. He shits on others, is generally an ass and not very shy about it, but one thing I want to change is his delivery. This Blitzø is much more jovial about what he’s doing, putting on an act of being very charming and playful, even when he insults people. Ex, the line in the pilot when he mentions Moxxie crushing his dreams would include a very childish pout and a chuckle after. He plays the things he says off as jokes so it gives him an air of... idk like you don’t know when he’s ever being serious.

He grew up in a circus in Greed along with his twin sister Barbie Wire (side note if Blitzo was my og creation he would have a pun/type name like Barbie does. Too tired to come up with one now, but mainly just because Barbie Wire is a much more creative name than fucking Blitzo) and his mother, who was dying day by day. His father was the ring leader and used his children as props to make money. Blitzo was a double act with Barbie Wire where they would do tricks on trained horses before Barbie started wanting to do trapeze and Blitzo was paired with Fizz instead to do acrobatics and tell jokes.

Now since we don’t know what the fuck happened in Blitzo’s past (despite being on fucking season 2) I’m going to leave this bit open ended until Viv plays her cards then rewrite it into my story.

So overall I’m not tweaking too much with Blitzo. Maybe instead of being a woobie who is like oh woe is me I suck he is just an overt asshole who sort of wants to be better but that’s too much work.

His relationship with Stolas is a can of worms and I fucking hate worms. Alright, so we’re scrapping the childhood buddies thing, and going full force into what we all were shown in the pilot – this powerful demon is banging Blitzo in exchange for the Grimoire. Now real quick, why doesn’t Blitzo use Asmodean crystals? In this I'm making it so only lust demons can bond with crystals (bonding meaning only that demon can use them) and unbound crystals can’t leave Lust. So Blitzo would have to go to Lust and buy one, which is expensive as fuck and he was too broke at the time he struck the deal with Stolas. He’s planning on ditching Stolas as soon as he has enough cash to buy a crystal for IMP to use.

So Stolas and Blitzo are both using each other, neither of them are like “omg I think he likes me”. Stolas wants sex to fuel his imp fetish and Blitzo wants the book. Blitzo has every intention of cutting this off as soon as he gets the crystal, and in his mind is only really indulging some rich brat demon. The issue comes when Blitzo finds himself actually liking Stolas – he likes the owl’s stupid spiels about literature and space and herbs, he likes that Stolas tells him helpful things with no prompting (like how certain herbs can treat injuries and things like that), and he finds himself liking Stolas’s company. Which is a big problem if he wants to cut the demon off, so he starts trying to get that in gear. This is also while being constantly reminded how unlovable he is and how he ruins everything he touches, but he’s conflicted because Stolas has started to treat him kindly and refer to him like an acquaintance rather than a sex toy.

Any I'm tired af, going to bed.

Oh, but before I go I just want to say that now that I’ve finished the IMP gang, I’m taking a minor break from reworking Helluva and will be posting some RWBY redesigns I’ve made because I fucking hate RWBY but at the same time it’s like my childhood. I’ll tag anything Rwby I'm doing as Rwby Rework if you’re interested, but don’t worry I’ll continue to do more viv/helluva/hazbin later this month!

Thanks for reading <3

#anti helluva boss #anti vivziepop #helluva boss critical #helluva boss redesign #helluva boss rewrite #helluva rewrite #vivziepop critical

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gay-dorito-dust · 2 years

Note

Well for a part two I was thinking it could happen a few years later or something like that. Daemon and reader are married, she is pregnant but she doesn't know that yet. I was thinking it would be sweet for Daemon to figure that out. Maybe Caraxes gets extremely overprotective of reader. They could have a small argument wholr caring for Caraxes and it would turn in the dragon growling at Daemon when he would rise his voice at the reader. It all becomes real when she faints one morning after getting out of bed so Daemon calls the maesters and they confirm that she's pregnant. and maybe the moment of the birth, Daemon holding his first child and getting to place a dragon egg inside the crib. Just general sweetness. I would be very pleased if you'd like to write this ! If not it's perfectly fine ! Thank you !

I love your brain! It’s filled with fascinating ideas. Also I love protective Caraxes. It’s just perfect.

Newsflash: I’m shit at writing birth scenes cuz I’ve never done it by I tried my best despite some possible inaccuracies.

Reader is female per request. Just letting ppl know beforehand before I forget.

Here’s part 1 for those who haven’t read it.

Your love for your Daemon has often left you blindsided to his darker impulses that you had soon became repulsed by your sudden faux ignorance to his crimes you’ve long kept silent about. Yet you found yourself still in love with him as the day you understood the word and shown said love in a multitude of ways that you probably shouldn’t have; so when news of Rhea Royce -Daemon’s bronze bitch of a Lady wife before you- having passed away on a hunting trip, the cause having that been of her horse being frightened by some means, crushing and as an result paralysing the poor woman. Those minor details didn’t catch your eye but what was added onto it oh most definitely did; apparently it was said that her head had been caved in and along with the apt timing of Daemon’s visitation at the Vale almost corresponded perfectly to the time of Rhea Royce’s death also too perfectly to be ignored by the public.

It fell together so seamlessly that it was no longer thought to be an outlandish accusation to assume that Daemon Targaryen, your husband, had killed Rhea Royce out of cold blood. You found yourself at a loss for words, torn between creating a false narrative to save face and protect Daemon’s ‘innocence’ and going mad within your denial of the truth presented before you as clear as day. It was obvious that to live someone was one thing but to defend their unjust cruelty towards others was another. Maegor was called ‘the cruel’ for good reason, given the how history written him to be; as it seemed history held an eternal grudge against house Targaryen and was willing to bury those who bore the name as repercussions for the wars they’ve waged and the homes, families and kingdoms that now laid to ruins because of them. It was only a matter of time before Daemon received similar treatment long after his passing, have his history written through venomous words and accounts from those who only ever spoke ill of him in life and death. It was also a matter of time before history treated you just as equally horrid as it would Daemon, Rhaenyra and Viserys.

Unfortunately you knew that many of the cousin members and even the king would already be privy to whom the most likely culprit was, given how eagerly Daemon was of disgracing Rhea’s name and insulting her beauty by claiming that the sheep of the Vale were prettier then her in front of an audience. You also knew that you’d sooner be caught in the crossfire unwillingly as a means of tarnishing your name along with his for keeping dark secrets concerning the kings brother for as long as you have in hopes of toppling you both and be done with it once and for all. No matter how much you wished to fight by Daemon’s side you have found yourself unable in your current state as of late; you know naught of how or when it came about but it is believed that it had started the first morning after you and Daemon consummated the marriage. Only then did it seem to linger longer then you had hoped days prior and have yet to speak a word of it to Daemon never less the Maesters but that could wait as there were more pressing matters to confront your beloved on firstly.

“Is it true?” Daemon’s ear picked up at your voice as he lowered himself from Caraxes back, “my spouse, you look as radiant as ev-“ “silence your silver tongue husband and answer me, is it true?” You cut him off venomously, not particularly in the mood for his honeyed words. “Why don’t you cease speaking in riddles and tell me what ales you so much to bare the vipers venom on your words.” Daemon began to hate the fact that slowly and surely enough your eyes were beginning to open and see him for whom the seven kingdoms truly saw him as. No longer were you carefree kids anymore and sooner or later uncomfortable realisations would have inevitably been made. Yet Daemon didn’t think that they’d poisoned your mind so quickly as they have and for which he would have their tongues for so they would never speak a word within your presence to doubt his character ever again; because to Daemon you were merely voicing the accusations that the kingdom have made against him, that it was the Seven kingdoms and his own brother that were forcing you into thinking him, your beloved, a villain in means of causing a rift between you too.

Daemon has fought tooth and nail to have you and he wasn’t planning on letting you slip over to their side so easily. Yet when the words flew from your lips and into his skin, Daemon could feel the prickling feeling of ice flooding his once fiery veins. “That you killed Rhea Royce as a means of selfishly securing yourself of the royalties of Runestone.” The air between you felt as though at a boiling pit and a subzero zone simultaneously as it only became increasingly difficult to breath in either conditions. Caraxes seemed to physically stiffen at your words as his eyes shifted from you to the back of Daemon’s head who’s silence didn’t help his case nor hinder; feeling as though you were in danger the Blood Wrym moved to shield you until he practically eclipsed the entrance to the cavern like stable of his. No matter how good natured his actions may have been they didn’t simmer the unease within your chest when Daemon looked at you like a stranger.

“Your believing them too now?“ he says eerily, lingering in the air to further build upon the unsettling feeling within your stomach as everything within you screamed, urged you to run from the one person who sworn to keep you safe since a young age. So when you didn’t and his hand laid upon your cheek felt as cold as ice as your breath hitched at the contact and instinctively pulled yourself away from his grasp and in the the broad front of Caraxes who towered over you silently in thought. “They’re poisoning your mind my beloved, they’ll say anything to cause conflict between use because they are jealous that what we have is real in comparison to them. We made our own choice whilst they did not in they wanted to spend their putrid lives with; they want to see us fight, the want to see us collapse so they may move in and claim whatever they want as their own. What evidence do they even hold over me to stake their claim?” Daemon’s eyes searched your tearful ones only to find that deep down you were at war with your heart. “Your visitation to the Vale is enough evidence, you snide comments is enough evidence, your eagerness to bed another whilst still in relations with her is enough evidence to be made against you Daemon. They have everything you have ever said against Rhea Royce and had it engraved in their memory for moments like this. Your carelessness has brought about your own end my beloved and in due time everyone will know. If they don’t already.”

You felt yourself fighting hard to remain able to withhold your ground during your squabble as your consciousness wavered in and out of focus as Daemon’s words only sounded muffled in your ears as though you’ve been held underwater; yet it didn’t take a fool to not notice the enraged look upon his face as he closed the distance between you two, gripping your wrist a tad too tightly for your liking and along with the anger in his eyes made you all the more fearful that in your moment of weakness, Daemon would take the life of his second victim, his sweet childhood friend, out of fear that you’d betray him like everyone else did. It scared you to think that the one person you’ve loved more then anything held the ability to kill you right then and there without any witness nearby to oversee the curfuffle nor come to your defence. Instead you closed your eyes and awaited the worst when Caraxes leaned his long next over you to shove Daemon away, causing his hand to loose grip of your wrist as he fell on his backside harshly. “Caraxes! What is your issue! You’ve been like this for awhile now!” Daemon yelled up at his dragon who merely roared in his face, silencing the Targaryen quickly.

Neither you nor Daemon were quite certain what had caused Caraxes sudden change in personality because in recent memory the dragon had always been seen more so by your side then Daemon which raised some rumours that have long since been forgotten by mostly everyone. In reality however Caraxes was merely protecting you and the unborn babe within your womb and in turn had be growing protective of you ever since he could sense the additional life next to yours. So when Daemon exuded a threatening presence towards you and in extension his kin, was Caraxes final straw. Daemon had ruined everything in his life thus far and the dragon didn’t want the only consistent in his life since he was a babe himself to face because of his human’s impulsiveness; To Caraxes you were just as much apart of him as Daemon was and to be apart from you was akin to loosing a limb, all though it maybe gone, you can still feel it’s presence episodically.

Whenever moments like the one between you and Daemon were to ever arise, Caraxes felt the need to protect you, his mother, and going against his Targaryen counter part to ensure your safety even if it means harming another to achieve it. “Caraxes.” You whispered faintly before allowing the dragon to encouragingly nudge you out of the stables, allowing you to rest your full weight against him as he escorted you back to the castle, where he’d await to see you from the windows of your chambers before clambering back to the stables to whack Daemon upside the head with his tail for good measure before forcefully shoving him out also. Still angry at him for threatening yours and your child’s safety.

The next morning became a struggle for you in particular. The mere act of getting out of bed had become a difficult task as you heaved with all your strength to push yourself in to a sitting position before trying your luck once more to push yourself to you feet when all suddenly became black and your body slumped to the floor; causing a great thud that alerted Daemon, who had long since calmed down from your argument, to quickly take to his sword and rush up to your chambers in perpetration to fight off whoever sneaked into your room whilst you were in your most vulnerable state. Only to find your body pressed uncomfortably against the cold chamber floor, unmoving, fearing the worst; Daemon threw away his sword to one side as he rushed to your aid, cradling you in his arms, his face a mere contrition of all the emotions he was feeling in that moment. Guilt over never apologising to you for his heinous actions against you, anger over his own need to protect his pride when he swore to protect and defend you just as much, sadness for how your dream life seemed to have taken for the worse then he promised you and an overwhelming feeling of being lost without you guiding him like the light he knew you were.

Daemon wasn’t the only one who heard your fall as several servants rushed not too long after the prince to check upon you but not out of your safety but only out of fear of what Daemon would do to them if they had left you in such a state. However as much as they prayed to be spared of any punishment, it seemed to have gone unheard as when they opened the door to witness Daemon hold you in his arms so crushingly tight; they were met with fierce violet eyes that pierced through them and into their souls in hopes of sparking a fire that would kill them from the inside out. “What are you idiots standing there gawking like seagulls?! Fetch the Maesters!” Daemon roared in anger, watching as they scrambled, shoved, pulled one another behind the other as they raced to get out of the room to evade Daemon’s wrath. The prince scoffed in disgust but his features quickly soften as he looked down at you with all the regret one man could ever bare upon his face; the day of your argument haunts him so but nothing haunted him more then the look of fright within your eyes at his sudden outburst, almost as though you were anticipating a repeat of his actions at the Vale.

He didn’t care what anybody thought about him, he couldn’t care less if in their eyes they see a monster but he couldn’t stand to be viewed the same in yours. As children he swore to protect you from all those who’d dare chase you harm but he didn’t know that there would come a day where he’d be the one bringing harm to your front doorstep. Now he wasn’t certain he was going to be given the time to repent for his actions as he held you close against his chest, refusing to let go even as the maesters came through the doors, tried their might to pry you from his arms only for him to tighten his hold before giving in to their pleas to check you over under the circumstances that he were to stay by your side. “My prince,” the Maester began after checking you over thoroughly before coming to a resolution, “it seems that your spouse is with child and has fainted but luckily has not sustained any injury that would cause her highness nor your child any prolonging issues.” Daemon’s eyes never left you face as the news struck him. All this time you’ve been with child and he has the nerve to place you in a stressful situation where your emotions would be tested to their limitations; He grasped your hand tightly in his, “thank you, you may leave us.” He dismissed the Maesters who bowed and left your chambers so the prince could shed his tears in peace. “We’re going to have a child.” Daemon muttered to himself, resting his head gently against your stomach, “we’re going to have a child. Oh gods bless this day and the many more to come until their arrival. I promise to better myself not only for you my love but for myself, Caraxes and our unborn child.” He promised.

The day of your child birth came swift and soon though not without excruciating pain. Though it was all the more rewarding when you got to hold your child within your arms with Daemon by your side. “Healthy as a horse your highness.” The midwife claimed before handing you the child that clutched to your fingers, cooing. You looked to Daemon who only stared down at the child with love, reaching a finger out to stroke his cheek and smiling when the child’s smaller fingers grasped onto his longer nimble one like a life line. “Have any thoughts on what we should name them my love.” You asked softly as to not disrupt the baby form their slumber. “I believe it is in your right to name the child as only one of us had bled to give them life my beloved.” Daemon said, kissing your slightly sweaty forehead gingerly, never breaking his gaze from the babe bundled in the blooded cloth. “Rhaenar.” You concluded post haste, smiling when the child cooed at the chosen name, giving their incoherent approval. “Rhaenar it shall be.” Daemon replied, holding you tightly against him as you both looked at your child, taking in the features they inherited from the both of you from Daemon’s facial features to your eyes and so forth. The silence lingered for as long as you allowed until Daemon removed himself from your side to elsewhere in the room, leaving you albeit confused until you saw him return with a pitch black dragon egg within his hands. You were aware of the Targaryen customs for when a new child under their house is born, they are gifted an dragon egg that will hatch into their bonded dragon; So to bare witness to it for your own child left a warmth within your chest knowing that for good or for bad, you were a Targaryen as much as your child was.

“I handpicked this myself,” Daemon explained as he placed the dragon egg into the crib with care, “may I?” He asked, gesturing to the child. “Of course they are your child as well Daemon.” You chuckled as you handed Rhaenar over to him, watching with love and adoration in your eyes as he cradled the child to his chest, smiling brightly when the child reached for his face to which he leaned down for the child to poke and pull lightly at his platinum locks. “I shall protect you and your mother from all harm but that also means that when you get older you must uphold that same promise also.” Dameon spoke softly to the child before angling them so they were facing you on the bed, “your mother is the most beautiful in all the seven kingdoms, even if she does bite my head off from time to time.” You scoffed playfully, “I do no such thing Rhaenar, don’t listen to your fool of a father. He tripped over his one feet when I said yes to being his.” Daemon covered the child’s ears as he glared at you playfully, “don’t want you ruining my reputation in front of our child now or else he’ll think I’m soft.” “You are soft though Daemon, hate to break it to you.” He chuckled in response as he placed the baby down in the crib though not before pressing a kiss to their forehead and a quick ‘I love you’ to join you in bed. “Such a tragic fate to befall a man to unconditionally love his child and lady.” He joked, stealing a kiss from your lips. “Yes how unfortunate indeed.” You joined in, snuggling against his side as you both watched over your child protectively.

Bonus:

Caraxes strained his long neck to the window of your chambers to get a look at the child, cooing softly as he watched the two newly made parents snuggle up in bed whilst watching over their child. The babe would grow into someone extraordinary under you and Daemon’s parentage the dragon concluded. Though he’d soon smack Daemon once more for claiming that he chose the dragon egg when in actual fact it was Caraxes who had chosen the egg. Daemon was going to gift an ugly mishmash of a brownish-red egg before his dragon pointed him to a more suitable egg. If one squinted however not only would you be able to see that while it was an entirely pitch black egg there was hints of fiery red here and there. Caraxes was happy to see his family grow slightly larger, though more so he was happy that his Targaryen decided to grow up for the sake of you and the family. He couldn’t be more prouder…now how was he going to explain that he practically demolished some architectural structures just to bare witness to the childbirth…

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mshroom1e · 1 year

Text

Twst Characters and Cake Messages

The idea suddenly occurred to me. It sounded very funny in my head.

Just some silly headcanons based around some cakes I found on Pinterest

Grim sent this to Kalim after the orientation ceremony:

He felt very bad after Yuu reminded him what happened to Kalim during orientation

Wanted to apologise and Trey being Trey, suggested he made a cake.

Gave the cake to Kalim after Book 4

He was very happy about it.

Fed Grim some crackers as a thank you.

Silver's cake for Lilia's birthday:

Silver wanted to do something nice for his dear old dad's birthday. What better way to show someone appreciation than through a cake?

He'd (very badly) made him a cake before and wanted to do it again, hoping his skills had gotten better.

He was about to ice Lilia's age onto the cake but it suddenly occurred to him.

He didn't know Lilia's age.

So he just wrote "You've aged" and hoped for the best.

Lilia laughed out loud after receiving it.

Was very happy and was smiling the whole day.

A cake sent to Yuu from the horse girl himself, Riddle:

He invites Yuu to come look at the equestrian club since they have yet to join one.

Was going over the basics of mounting a horse with Yuu when it suddenly bit their arm.

Was panicking.

Trey, being Trey, said an apology through a cake would be nice while Yuu was recovering from the massive bite on their arm.

The cake tasted terrible.

Riddle forgot the oyster in dessert thing was a joke.

But hey, its the thought that counts.

A cake from Idia after a game night with Yuu:

Being a NA ver player, I (sadly) haven't finished book 6 yet and have no idea about what he's like with Yuu all too well.

But I imagine Yuu and Idia have weekly gaming sessions and he's a rage gamer.

When Yuu throws one of those annoying turtle shells at him while he's in the lead, he yells a string of "-insert incoherent game-based insults here-"

Yuu had no idea what any of what he said meant but Idia felt bad afterwards since what he said was very mean.

Ortho suggested the idea as his research showed giving cakes with messages was a very common thing to do with friends.

Sent a cake via a drone all the way to the Ramshackle Dorm as an apology.

The cake was surprisingly really good.

The OB group sent this to Yuu:

The message speaks for itself.

They're very sorry about the trouble they've caused, especially to Yuu who witnessed every single one (in my brain anyway)

Was made from a box cake recipie because I said so.

Tasted very nice.

A friendly reminder from Azul to whoever owes him anything:

As soon as I saw this cake, I knew who it was for.

Someone forgot to pay their debt and Jade wanted to make a cake but using mushrooms instead of flour.

Jade got to experiment and neither Floyd nor Azul had to eat it.

It's a win win.

RIP to the person who eats it though.

It's a one-way ticket to triggering your dormant IBS.

Adeuce and Grim trying to help a sad Yuu:

The trio noticed their best friend Yuu had been feeling sad.

They got the idea from Deuce.

It was half cooked since they all probably suck at cooking.

Triggered Yuu's IBS.

The icing was lumpy and the cake batter was raw but they tried their best.

Everyone was happy at the end. (Except Yuu's stomach)

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xanqels · 9 months

Text

Make Daddy Proud.

joel miller x f!reader

Pairings: joel miller x f!reader

summary: you and joel have never gotten along, so what happens when you come to his house and piss him off?

word count: 5.1k

warnings: size kink (reader is small and joel is a big boy) dirty talk, daddy kink, creampie, breeding kink, cursing, foul language, reader likes to play on joels’ nerves, spanking, hair pulling, fingering, oral (m receiving), choking, alcohol consumption, unsafe p in v (wrap before you tap), pet names, joel is daddy, cum eating (?), tommy ships, minor spit use, brief aftercare, age gap (joel is mid 50s, reader is late 20s), degradation. NO USE OF Y/N!!! ellie is mentioned, sarah is mentioned. slight angst. Save a horse, ride a cowboy.

a/n: thank you all for being so patient with me after my writers block. this is based off of an ask i was sent. this has not been edited‼️

————————————————————————-

Joel Miller.

A dangerous man, a killing machine. A man who wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet in your head if you looked at him the wrong way. A man who aged like fine wine, and along with it his attitude towards the world soured. A grumpy man.

You met him one evening, the weather starting to cool, when Tommy called you over and introduced you to his brother. Maria didn’t seem to thrilled about the older Miller brother coming to stay, and it was written on her face. You’d known her long enough to spot the telltale signs of her upset and and disapproval. A small frown line on her dark skin, or the way her eye would twitch slightly.

Tommy, on the other hand, a smile on his lips. His estranged brother was alive and well, after all. Who wouldn’t be happy? Well, Joel, it would seem. A scowl on his weathered face, covered in deepened wrinkles, something any normal young lady may see and scarper away at the sight of, but not you. No, you were intrigued. You wanted to hear more about his troubles, his experience on the outside, but when you opened your mouth to greet him, he merely grumbled at you. Thus, starting a month long war of snide remarks and quick insults, immature snipes at each other just to wind the other up. He’d open up to you on the occasional dark night, after many whiskeys and the occasional hug, but by the next day you’d be back to bickering.

The pair of you couldn’t be in the same room without your quick tongue and his dark scowls ruining whatever good day the other had. Tommy was tired of it. Tired of the bickering, tired of the pettiness. He knew you found Joel attractive, he could see it in your eyes the first day he introduced you to him. The way your eyes swallowed him whole, the way your tongue swiped across your bottom lip as you took him in. You’d never admit it though, you were too proud.

As for Joel, on the other hand? He never showed much emotion, he was a tough cookie. If you’d known him before the world went to shit, you’d know he was a carpenter. A lively soul with a daughter of his own. And now? He was closed off, only talking to Tommy, you, Maria and Ellie, the young girl he ended up hauling around with him, or that’s how he puts it. And on the odd occasion, the bartender who serves him his favourite beverage – Whiskey, neat.

“Shove off, Miller.” You whine, pushing his large frame slightly as you try to take seat. “You’re taking up the whole booth, fatass.” You grumble as he rolls his eyes and moves further into the booth. You sit across from Tommy, Maria beside him as you give them both a warm smile.

You can hear Joel grumble beside you, but you brush him off. You take a sip of your drink, grimacing as the liquid burns it’s way down your throat and into your stomach. You notice Maria has a tall glass infront of her, raising an eyebrow. “Only water tonight, Maria?” You ask, and she nods.

“On patrol tomorrow morning.” She sighs. “So, can’t really be dealing with a hangover. Need to keep my mind clear.” She taps her head with her index finger, and Joel just scoffs.

“That’s some pussy shit.” He says, earning a glare from both you and Maria. Tommy was in his own world, watching Cameron and Pete arm wrestle at the bar, secretly rooting for Cameron. “You gotta learn how to handle your drink better, Maria. Heck, I even take a bit of whiskey with me on the days I am on patrol. Keeps ya warm.” He shrugs as he takes a sip.

“Just because you drink like a fish doesn’t mean the rest of us have to.” He frowns at that, but you continue. “Next time you fear you might get cold on patrol, dress up warmer. Don’t want you freezing to death now, do we cowboy?” You pat his shoulder in a faux friendly manner.

“There’s only so many clothes a man can put on his body, darlin’.” You like that nickname, “darlin’”. Though sarcastic, it warms you, electrifies your loins and leaves you wanting more. “Gotta let the whiskey warm ya from the inside.”

You scoff, silently mocking his words with your face screwed up. You loved and hated the game you’d play. “I’d expect an old man like you to have more sweaters, Miller.” You circle the rim of your glass with your index finger. “I see you flaunting around town in your shirts and flannels. I know they’re not thick enough to keep you warm. Just an excuse for you to drink on the job, I’d say.”

“I’m not an old man.” Joel scoffs, shaking his head. “You’re just young and clearly have no knowledge of the world. Not my fault you’re so naive.” He speaks, swirling the liquid around in his glass, avoiding eye contact with you.

You close your mouth for a moment before opening it again, a single syllable falling out of your mouth as you were just about to tear Joel a new one, you weren’t naive, but Tommy cuts you off with a laugh and a cheer. Obviously, Cameron had won.

He turns back to the table, his eyes immediately scanning yours and Joels faces. He frowns. “God, are y’all bickering again?” He asks, eyebrows raised. You feel like a child being scolded. “You two just need to bone it out or something.” He earns a smack to the arm from Maria for that. “I’m just sayin’! These two bicker like there’s no tomorrow. It’s getting past a joke now.” He grumbles, finishing his last dregs of his now room-temperature whiskey.

You sit back in the booth, arms folded and pouting. Joel just rolls his eyes, but chuckles to himself at your scowl. He pats your head in faux sympathy. “Cheer up, Doll. I’m sure Uncle Tommy didn’t mean to scold you.” He coos, and that only annoys you more.

You smack his hand away, annoyance written across your features. “Piss off. You’re not my daddy, Joel.”

“I could be.” He says audible only for you, grinning. “All you have to do is say the magic word, and I’m all yours, darlin’.”

You look in his eyes, and for a moment you think he could be serious. A dark glint behind those deep brown eyes. Something resembling lust, a fire, a yearning for more, but that glint flickers away as his grin grows wider until it turns into him laughing. A hearty laugh, a laugh that could warm your soul.

“God, give in, Joel!” You push him again, but he only laughs harder. It only annoys you more, and you end up having yet another grumble in your seat over it.

“Oh for gods sake, what did I just say?” You hear Tommy shout at the pair of you for bickering again, and that brings a smile to your lips.

It was late when the four of you walked home, with Joel being the first to leave the group, and you being the last. And it wasn’t long after that for you to get changed into an oversized grey shirt and some old fabric shorts. They were old, tatted and had holes in a few areas, but they were comfy and you were thankful to even have clothes to sleep in.

You lay in bed, looking up at the ceiling, the slight buzz of the alcohol in your system making you sleepy, but the thoughts running through your head kept you wide awake. You knew Joel was just being grumpy when he said you were naive. You weren’t naive, you’ve been through the exact same shit he has with the Cordyceps infection that ravaged everything you ever knew and stood for. It upset you, the fact he thought so lowly of you, the fact he thought you didn’t know any better than him.

The upset swirled in your stomach, half of turning into anger at his stupidity. If he’d ever taken the time out of his day to actually have a half-decent conversation with you, aside from those late-night drunken talks he usually forgot, he’d realise you’re not naive at all.

The anger bubbled inside of you, until you find yourself out of your bed and storming down stairs, throwing on the first coat and pair of shoes you could find. You set out onto the dimly lit streets of Jackson. You needn’t worry about locking your door, everyone knew the rules and the consequences and wouldn’t dare set foot wrong.

You found your feet dragging you towards Joel’s house, your mind had no control over your body at this point. You were determined to prove him wrong, to show him you weren’t naive. And that’s how you ended up banging on his front door, impatiently tapping your foot against his porch.

You were actually surprised when he opened the door, his hair all scuffed up, eyes squinted slightly as he rubbed sleep out of them.

“What do you want?” He asks, voice gruff and deep with sleep. You’d obviously just woken him up. He yawns, leaning against his door frame in nothing but a pair of plaid pyjama pants. God, he was so attractive, if you weren’t mad at him you’d jump his bones right now. His tanned skin, marked with scars and evidence of his battles. It stirred something in you, he stirred something in you.

He clears his throat, and you snap out of it, eyes darting up to his. He has his eyebrows raised, dark iris’ boring into yours. You shuffle slightly, swallowing thickly. “You really upset me.”

He groans, rolling his eyes. “Chin up, Darlin’.” He sighs, running a hand through his ragged hair. “Can’t we talk about this tomorrow? I gotta get my sleep.” He yawns, moving back into his house slightly as he goes to shut his door, but you place your foot in the gap and push it open.

You step inside, shaking your head. “No, Joel. I can’t sleep. You said I was naive, what do you mean by that?” You ask, and he just grumbles to himself as he shuts the door behind you. Obviously, you weren’t leaving anytime soon, and you’d just made your mind up then and there, and Joel had no say in the matter.

He laughs, thinking you’re messing with him. His laugh falters as he sees the look on your face, pitiful and innocent. His smile turns into a frown, furrowing his brows. “You’re not serious are ya?” He chuckles nervously. “C’mon darlin’, I was only messing with you.”

“Yeah, well it wasn’t cool. I’ve been through just as much shit as you have, Joel. You can’t just take my experience for granted.” You speak, folding your arms across your chest.

“You’ve had it easier than the rest of us.” He looks away from you, avoiding your gaze. “You haven’t dealt or even seen half of the shit I’ve gone through. The things I’ve had to do just to survive, the looks on peoples faces I’ve had to endure.”

“Don’t give me that shit, Joel.” You take a step forward, his eyes darting back down to yours again. “Just because you lost Sarah doesn’t mean you can disregard everyone else’s experience. We’ve all been through the same shit.” You regret saying that immediately.

That statement, the mention of Sarah. It’s like it clicks a switch in his mind, his face warps into something you’ve ever seen before, pure disdain. Pure anger. You can see his nostrils flare as he takes in deep breaths, and his chest rising and then falling. You’re both somewhat afraid and oddly aroused.

“How fucking dare you?” His voice stone cold, jaw stiff as he steps towards you, backing you against the front door, pointing at you as his tall, stoic frames completely engulfs yours. You wince, turning your face away from his as his hot breath hits your cheek. “You do not mention her name in my house. You do not mention her name at all, you don’t deserve to even speak her name.”

Tears prick your eyes, you feel so ashamed of yourself. You’ve hit a new low, you’ve stooped to a new level, all because he called you naive. You brought up the ghosts of his past, the things he has nightmares about that leave particularly dark circles under his eyes, the thing he often drinks to forget. No wonder he’s angry at you.

“Joel.. I’m sorry.” You whimper, giving him big doe eyes. He just tuts and shakes his head.

“Stupid. Stupid naive girl. You need to be taught some manners.” He’s suddenly calm, or atleast calmer, and you don’t get to question it, his hand wraps around your waist and he’s dragging you into the main room, switching the lamp on. He sits himself down on the two-seater leather couch, and you look at him confused.

“You’re so gorgeous.” He speaks, and you’re even more confused. You’re stood inbetween his legs, his hand caressing your face. Have you just stepped into another dimension? His mood swings are confusing, but he’s so fucking handsome. “Why don’t you apologise to Daddy properly, hm?”

And there it is, the burning hot feeling in your stomach, the desperation to be touched, manhandled, anything. He manoeuvres you into his lap, your crotch ontop of his, hands gripping your waist. He glides your coat off your shoulders, throwing it onto the other side of the room. You shiver, goosebumps raising on your arms from your loss of warmth, your heart beating a million miles an hour as he leans in.

“You gon’ be good for Daddy?” He asks, his texan drawl coming out in full force as he leans towards your neck, placing soft, open-mouthed kisses along it. You whimper at the feel of his warm, plump lips against your cold skin, unable to answer him until he’s nipping and sucking at your jawline.

“Maybe, maybe not.” You sigh out, and he seems not to mind your answer, rather he seems intrigued by it. He pulls away, eyebrows raised.

“That so?” He tilts his head, his right hand coming up to grip your face, making you look at him. “I’m not afraid to show you who’s boss, Doll.” His fingers buried in your cheeks, his eyes full of intensity. You think you broke him. “You crossed a line.”

“I know I did, and I’m sorry.” You choke out, tears still pricking at your lash line. “Please.” You beg, you don’t even know what you’re begging for. He releases your face from his grip, smiling to himself. His hands grip your waist again, and he leans back, eyes scanning your fragile form. He hums.

“You’re a sight to see.” He growls softly, gently grinding you against his crotch. You whine at the feeling as he repeats it once, twice until you feel his cock harden against you. You don’t even have to see it to know it’s big.

He leans forward, lips connecting to your neck again as he guides you, but he soon finds he doesn’t have to as you take control yourself. You gently grind against his clothed cock, whining at the friction as your sleep shorts catch on your clit. He leaves a sloppy trail of open-mouthed, wet kisses against your neck, and you can’t believe this is happening.

He pulls away, lips glistening with saliva in the light. You don’t stop until his hands hold you in place. You look up at him, confused. His pupils are blown out, eyes full of lust and desire, hunger for you.

“Think you’re ready to apologise?” He strokes your hair and you nod. “Don’t take long to break ya.” You roll your eyes at that, unable to muster up a witty comeback, and he pulls your hair. You moan at the feeling, the pleasure going straight to your weeping pussy. “None of that now, Darlin’. Alright?” You hum, and he gently pushes you off his lap.

He stands up, towering over you as he points to the floor, and you kneel down. He nods, happy with your submission. He bends down slightly, cupping your face in his hand. “You know what I want?” You nod, tongue poking out to wet your lips. He stands back up. “Good.”

Your hands are quick, scrambling to grip his waistband, as you pull down his plaid bottoms slowly, not knowing what to expect.

But then you see it. It’s angry red tip, weeping with precum and you just know he hasn’t had something like this in a while. His own hand? Maybe, but not another woman. It’s girthy, and has a considerable length to it, maybe seven inches? If not slightly more. It’s definitely going to be a stretch, a burn, something for you to gag and choke all over, but you’re almost certain he’ll hit those right spots with it. The spot you struggle to reach with just your fingers.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” His voice pulls you out of your trance, and you wonder how long you’ve been looking at it, drooling over it. “You gon’ open your mouth for me, Doll?” He holds his cock at the base, waiting patiently for you to open your mouth.

You shuffle slightly, placing your own hand around his cock as you open your mouth and lean forward. His precum spreads across your tongue, salty and slightly bitter, but you don’t mind, rather quite the opposite. You hear him groan as your warm mouth and wet tongue take him, moving your head down slowly, only getting to about halfway before your gag reflex starts to kick in. You stop, pulling back and repeating the same motions, only managing to fit about half of his cock in.

At some point, he grows slightly impatient, taking his hands and placing them on the back of your head. He holds you in place as he thrusts forward, the entire length of his cock gliding down your throat. You gag at the intrusion, eyes filling with tears again, but you focus on him. The way your nose is pressed against his lower abdomen, the way he smells. You want to make a mental image of this, remember and cherish it forever lest you forget it.

He gently pulls you back, repeating the action multiple times. Tears roll down your cheeks as he fucks your face, head feeling slightly dizzy as he depraves you of oxygen. He moans, and you can feel his cock throbbing in your throat. He tears your head away from him, groaning softly as he wraps his hand around the head of his cock, staving off his orgasm.

You gasp for air, coughing and spluttering slightly as you come back down, wiping your tears from your cheeks with the back of your hand.

You okay?” You hear him speak, sounding slightly out of breath. You nod, wiping the drool from your chin. Your pussy was aching by this point, you just wanted to be filled by him, to be fucked relentlessly til you didn’t know your own name.

He helps you up, ever the gentleman he is, and sits himself back down on his couch. He removes your sleep shorts, and then your shirt, manoeuvring you back into his bare lap. His eyes scan your body, now naked and in all its glory. He groans at the sight, hand coming up to pinch your hard nipple.

You sigh at the feeling. “How many fingers can you take?” He asks.

“Two.”

“Two what?”

“Two, Daddy.” Your cheeks flush. He holds his hand up next to yours, and your fingers are nothing compared to his.

Yours a thin, nimble and fragile. His are calloused, thick and long. “Only two?” He asks, incredulous and you nod.

He furrows his brows, bringing the pad of his thumb to his lips, swiping his tongue along it. He reaches down, placing his thumb on your clit, rubbing in small circles. You moan, hands coming up to grip his shoulders.

“Just makin’ sure you’re wet enough.” He knew he didn’t need to, he could see you practically dripping on his lap, but he just wanted to hear you moan.

He pulls his hand away and you frown, until you see him sucking on his index and ring finger. He pulls his fingers out, examining them in the light before giving you a look, and you nod. He was asking if you were ready.

He brings his hand down, gently pushing his two fingers into your tight pussy. You cry out at the dull burn, but underneath the burn you could feel the heat, the need growing for him. He lets out an audible sigh, he makes a scissoring motion with his fingers, stretching you open for him.

“Oh, Joel.. Fuck.” You moan, squealing when you feel his calloused hand smack against your arse. You whine, frowning at him. He just shakes his head.

“Wrong. Try again.” He stills his fingers inside of you, they’re just nudging that sweet spot you’d been unable to find yourself.

You groan as you wriggle in his arms, trying to get him to move. “Fuck, Daddy. I’m sorry.” You beg. “Please, Daddy.”

It seems to appease him, as he’s soon fucking you wide open with his fingers again. He makes a ‘coke here’ motion with his fingers, and you’re sure you can see stars.

Your nails dig into his broad shoulders as he hits that spot, throwing your head back. He takes this to his advantage, leaning in and sloppily leaving kisses along your collar bone.

“Fuck, Daddy I’m gonna cum.”

“Don’t you fucking dare. I haven’t said you can yet.” He grumbles against your skin.

You try to hold off, but the pleasure is so overwhelming. He’s hitting that spot again and again, purposely rubbing up against it even though you’re struggling. You can’t hold on.

“Fuck, I’m cumming.” You cry out, and to your mercy he allows you to ride through it.

It’s quite possibly the best orgasm you’ve had. Your jaw goes slack, and you feel as though you’re having an outer body experience. You can feel it in every crevice of your body, on every inch of your skin. It’s incredible, you never knew you could feel this good.

You slump forward, resting on Joel’s shoulder as you come back to planet earth. You’re still panting by the time you come to.

“Oh, sweet girl.” He tuts, and the sound sends chills down your spine. “Didn’t I tell you not to cum?” He slowly pulls his fingers from your pussy, and you jolt, the movement sending aftershocks through your body.

You sit up, strands of hair sticking to your forehead as you meet Joel’s eyes. They’re angry, but still full of lust. You disobeyed him, and now you’re gonna have to suffer the consequences.

He lifts his fingers up, examining them in the light again. “Look at that.” He grins, your slick gleaming in the light. You’re embarrassed, you made that mess. You’re surprised when he places them in his mouth and sucks them clean. He shuts his eyes momentarily, giving you an exaggerated moan. “You’re delicious, Doll.” He says as he pulls his fingers out of his mouth. You truthfully don’t know what to say, but it seems as though Joel didn’t plan on you speaking anyway. He practically pushes you off him onto the seat next to him. He stands up, rolling you over on your stomach.

You can’t see what he’s doing, until his hand connects with your ass. You yelp out, fingernails digging into the leather.

“This is for cumming without my permission.” He speaks. “Dirty little slut. Can’t even wait for her daddy’s orders, hm?” He asks, spanking your ass again and again until you’re certain he’s left a bright red handprint.

Every slap he gives sends waves of pleasure to your pussy, and you can’t believe you’re enjoying this.

His hand reaches up, wrapping itself in your hair as he pulls your face up, he leans towards you. “You gon’ listen to me?”

You nod. “Yes Daddy, I promise.”

He wipes the tears running down your cheeks, and honestly you hadn’t even noticed you’d been crying. He plants a kiss to the side of your temple, a simple gesture that shocks you.

He flips you over again and climbs in-between your legs. You watch as he places your legs on either side of his waist, and begins to gently stroke his cock.

You can feel yourself desperate for him again, even the simplest of his movements turn you on.

He holds his hand out infront of your face. “Spit.” He commands, and you do. He wipes the spit on his cock, even though he doesn’t need to as you’re wet enough, but he enjoys it when you do what you’re told.

You gasp as you feel the smooth head of his cock against your tight hole, biting your lip as he pushes into you.

The stretch hurts more than his fingers, but it was expected. He’s thick. You scrunch your face up as he pushes into you, and you hear him sigh as he bottoms out. You open your eyes, lifting your head up slightly to see where you’d connected at the seams. A holy sight, a gorgeous sight. You’d take a picture and frame it on your wall if you had a camera.

He reaches up and caresses your cheek, rubbing his thumb against your bottom lip. You open your lips slightly and he slides his thumb into your mouth.

You suck on his thumb as he starts to pull out, slowly, before slamming back into you. Your tits jiggle at the force, and he seems to find that somewhat amusing.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous.” He coos. “Gonna make you my little cum slut.” You moan around his thumb.

His pace is slow at first, almost as though he doesn’t want to break you, but he soon picks up the pace. Your mouth falls open as sweet melodies fall from your lips, and he trails his hand down to your neck. He wraps his hand around, gently squeezing your neck as he fucks you, hard.

You feel as though you’re on cloud nine, your mind is spinning as he fucks into you. You don’t even care that you’re sweating so much you’re practically glued to the leather, or the fact he’s nearly depriving you of oxygen for the second time tonight. You’re just focused on the way his cock feels, the way it hits that sweet spot and nudges your cervix. A pleasurably painful sensation.

He removes his hand from your throat, leaning down and taking one of your nipples into his mouth. He sucks on it, gently pulling it with his lips before letting it go. He plants opened mouth kisses along your salty skin, sucking and nibbling at the soft spots on your neck. There’ll be marks tomorrow.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” He groans. “I’m gon’ ruin you for any other man. You’re mine, you hear?” He growls against your skin.

You cry out, arching your back slightly as you feel the leather rip from your skin. “I’m yours, Daddy.” If someone told you that you’d be in this situation five hours ago, you would’ve laughed in their face.

You can feel it starting to grow again. The fire in the pit of your stomach, the wave that grows ever larger before it crashes.

He can tell you’re close again, the way your pussy strangles his cock. It makes him desperate to feel you cum around his cock. “You gon’ cum sweet girl?” He sounds breathless, almost as though he’s on edge himself. His thrusts are growing slightly more erratic.

You can’t reply, you just nod. He brings his free hand down to rub your clit, rubbing circles into it.

“Fuck. I’m gonna cum.” You manage to make out, face scrunching up as the intensity of it builds.

“Cum for me, Doll. Strangle my cock.” And you do just that.

Your pussy pulsates around his cock, legs shaking as you reach your high. Your mouth falls open in yet another silent scream, and he fucks you through it. Your head feels so light, you feel as though you’ve reached new highs, reached new extremes.

His hips are stuttering by the time you come to, and you can tell by the way his cock is throbbing and by the noises he’s making that he’s close.

He doesn’t give you much warning apart from those tell-tale signs, as he thrusts harshly into you a few more times before he’s moaning your name. You can feel him throbbing inside of you as he paints your walls in ropes of his thick, warm cum. You feel stuffed.

You both lay there in silence for a while, him ontop of you whilst his cock softens.

He eventually clears his throat, slowly sitting up and running a hand through his hair. You make eye contact, and all that anger and must that was previously in his eyes has gone and been replaced by adoration. He caressed your face again. He slowly gets up, and you hiss as his cock slips out of you.

He reaches down, fingers spreading your pussy as he looks at it, full of his cum. He grins, scooping up a bit that had run out and pushing it back in. You can hear the squelch of your juices, a vulgar sound.

He slowly gets up, and you can hear his bones crack as he stretches. He pulls his bottoms back up, turning around and looking at you from above. You were a sight. Eyes slightly red from the tears, sweaty skin and a pussy leaking with cum. He stays there for a second, making a mental memory of how you look.

“One moment.” He walks out of the room, and you can hear the tap in the kitchen turn on and off.

He returns moments later with a damp cloth and a cup of water. He cleans you up as you drink the water, giving you a warm, genuine smile. A rare sight.

As he’s cleaning you, he places a hand on your smooth stomach, caressing it softly.

“You’d look so good swollen with my babies.” He murmurs.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

————————————————————————-

tags: @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @planet-marz1

a/n: please note this has not been edited and is my second ever fic. will happily accept any constructive criticism :) also i love receiving asks so feel free to say whatever

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queen-haq · 9 months

Text

Fic: Grudgingly Yours (Part 5)

Summary: You are a general surgeon, working in a hospital that’s slowly sucking the life out of you when one day you’re given the offer of a lifetime.

A.K.A - An arranged marriage fic :)

Pairing: Billy Russo x You

Rating: R

Masterlist (contains links to my other stories and this one)

Chapter 5

Your breath was ragged, your throat dry from screaming so hard. Your brother was dying in front of you and no matter how much you screamed at him he wouldn’t look at you.

In the blink of an eye you were at the hospital, taking bullets out of a horse. It was a beautiful animal, midnight black with a shiny, sleek mane, speaking to you as you operated on him. You were trying to save its life but the horse remained unfazed, being sweet and encouraging. You felt kinship with the animal, like you knew him. And then it was touching you, with human hands, his long, lean fingers running through your hair. It felt good, the sensation making you tingle. Your face felt warm, flushed. It was hot, too hot. Like your body was lodged against a heater or something. Irritated, you brushed off whatever was covering you and the respite from the heat slowly lulled you back to sleep.

Several times throughout the night you were startled awake by Billy, pressed tightly against you. At times facing him, other times turned away. There wasn’t much space on the couch, and maybe that was the reason why, but you were surprised at how tactile he was. His hand was always on you, tucked around your waist, your hips, on your butt, on your breasts before you moved them away. You knew it wasn’t about you, he was probably the same way with the women he slept with – you just happened to be sharing the couch this time.

You woke up alone the next morning facing the back cushion. There was a throw draped over you, your robe gone.

“You kick in your sleep.”

Hearing Billy’s voice from behind, you immediately pulled up the throw. Just because you probably flashed him in your sleep didn’t mean you had to do it now. You shuffled around to face him, throw tucked under your chin so your breasts weren’t exposed.

He was sitting on a chair facing you, sipping a mug of coffee, wearing workout clothes. His casual demeanor was a surprise, you were used to seeing him angry or stressed out. Mocking you most of the time when he wasn’t being insulting. That’s why last night was so unexpected. Seeing him be so vulnerable and pleading for help, it came out of nowhere. And as surprised as you had been, he was probably doubly so. Which was why a part of you was bracing yourself for the inevitable assholery from him. “Something I learned in golddigger school,” you retorted.

He didn’t say anything, just watching you. Wearing a blank expression, his face was unreadable, making you nervous. “You were all over me last night. Guess they didn’t teach you about respecting personal space in class,” he drawled after a few seconds, setting down the his empty cup on the coffee table.

“Of course not. You don’t get a rich husband by being respectful.”

For a second you thought amusement flickered in his eyes but it disappeared so quickly you must have imagined it.

“What the fuck was last night? You tryin’ to seduce me?”

Despite the hostile words, his voice was calm. There was no anger or derision in his tone, which confused you even more. At least if he was pissed, you’d know how to react. “You’re the one who asked me to stay with you.” Even to your own ears, you sounded bitchy. “Begged, actually.”

A well-defined eyebrow quirked up, the corners of his mouth lifting so slightly that he almost appeared to be smiling. “I don’t beg, sweetheart.”

What the fuck? Was he seriously trying to gaslight you? “So what do you think happened? I saw you passed out on the couch and decided that was the moment I was gonna jump your bones?”

“You tell me. I don’t know what gets you hot.”

His calm tone was infuriating. “Definitely not you.” The gall of him to act like you had somehow plotted all this. Pissed, you didn’t want to see his stupid, smug face again. “You mind turning around?”

“I’m fine where I am.”

“I want to go to the bathroom.”

“Go ahead.”

“I’m not wearing anything underneath this!” you huffed. “Where’s my robe?”

“You took it off halfway through the night.” He reached behind him and pulled out the fabric. Instead of throwing it to her, he draped it over his lap.

“You want to give that back to me?”

“Maybe.”

“Don’t be a fucking asshole.” He sneered at her words. At least that side of him was familiar, you reminded yourself. You could handle him when he was being a dick. “I don’t have time for this, Billy. Give me my robe.”

“Come here and get it.”

“Or you could just throw it.”

“No.”

“Stop being a dick, Billy!”

“That’s who I am, sweetheart.” In the blink of an eye his voice shifted from amusement to controlled rage. “I’m a fucking bastard, not some broken man for you to fix. Remember that.”

Fed up and irritated, you sat up and secured the throw tightly around your body before storming over to him. Standing directly in front of Billy, you glared down at him. “I don’t want to save you. I don’t even give a fuck about you. Last night you had a panic attack, probably some PTSD episode or something. I could’ve ignored you, yeah, but I didn’t because that’s not who I am. When someone’s in pain in front of me, I help them. Not because I care about them, but because that’s what I’m trained to do. It doesn’t mean I like you, or want to fuck you, or even give a shit about you.” Molten eyes locked with yours, he gazed up at you like he was mesmerized or something. You snapped your fingers, trying to get his attention. “Are you listening to me?”

His eyes trailed down to your lips. “So that’s all that was? You being a compassionate doctor?”

Not responding, you moved to pick up the robe from his lap when he suddenly grabbed your wrist. His grip was firm but gentle, his eyes pitch-black as he stood up. Towering over you, you regarded him cautiously as he closed the distance between you. “Let me go, Billy.”

He didn’t.

Refusing to look away, you held his stare. He must have taken a shower because you could smell the subtle scent of his soap, a wonderful, fresh scent that made you want to lean in and inhale him more. Of course that was a ridiculous thought, you could just imagine how he’d react to that.

His voice was low, raspy, almost seductive, his intense eyes gleaming over your face like you were fascinating to him. “Next time you see me like that, don’t help me. Even if I ask.”

“Tough shit. I’m not gonna change who I am because of you.”

Anger flitted across his face. “Do you know how stupid that is? I was blazed out of my fucking mind, probably having a panic attack. And you come in there like some goddamn idiot. You’re lucky I didn’t accidentally smash your face in.”

“You realize how that sounds? You need help.”

A heavy sigh escaped his lips while he finally released your wrist. In one swift motion he retrieved the robe from the ground and wrapped it around you. His hands lingered on your bare shoulders, the heat of his touch scorching right through to your insides. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach at the intimacy of the gesture, your heart racing. This was not good. Last night was one thing when he needed help, but in the harsh ray of daylight there was no reason to act so familiar with him.

Immediately you took a step back, tying the robe tightly around your waist. It lay lumpy on your body because of the throw underneath but you didn’t care. You just wanted a fast escape from Billy. He, however, had other plans when he took a seat on the arm of the couch.

“What kind of help?” Billy prodded, his eyes boring into you again.

“What?” you asked, distracted by his feet brushing against your bare leg.

“You mean like therapy or something? I tried that shit. Worked for a while, but every year…” For a second he looked like he was a million miles away, a haunted expression on his face. “The nightmares come back.”

Leave, you told yourself. Make up an excuse and walk away. Yet you caught a glimpse of something in Billy’s eyes that reminded you of his aching vulnerability last night and you couldn’t ignore it when he obviously wanted to talk. “Did something happen?” you asked reluctantly.

His piercing eyes dropped from your face to the floor. “Yeah.”

You waited for him to elaborate; he didn’t. There was a part of you that wanted to ask about the burn marks and scars that traumatized him – but it wasn’t your place to press him for answers. Obviously whatever triggered him was a painful experience. “Look, whatever’s going on with you, it’s not just gonna go away. I know you said therapy hasn’t worked yet but that doesn’t mean it won’t. It’s a process, you have to keep trying.”

A small smile curved his face. “Sounds like you give a shit now.”

You rolled your eyes. “I just don’t want you to accidentally kill one of your one-night stands in the middle of the night. That’s gonna be hard to explain to my friends.”

“That’s why they never stay the night,” he said quietly, his vision slowly and deliberately trailing up to your face. “I don’t let them.”

There was that fierce glint in his gaze again, the one that made your heart squeeze in your chest. And terrified the shit out of you.

“I haven’t slept beside anyone in a long time.”

Until last night. With you.

Every molecule in the air suddenly felt charged, your heightened senses trying to cope with the sensation of his hand stroking your calf. The unspoken words hung in the air, sharp and palpable, his intoxicating eyes holding you captive and making it impossible for you to look away.

“Why?”

His question was a soft moan, sensuous, seductive, a complete contrast to how scratchy you sounded when you responded to him. “Why what?”

“Why do you keep fucking with my head?”

Your heart was pounding hard, the lump in your throat growing bigger by the second. “Why do you let me?”

“I don’t know.”

“You make it so easy to mess with you,” you murmured.

“Do I?”

Your breath caught in your throat when his fingers slowly caressed up the length of your calf, jolts running through your body at his touch. “Yeah.”

“You surprised me.”

One moment you were standing few feet apart, next he had gently nudged you forward while he stood up at the same time. All oxygen left your lungs, his close proximity making it hard for you to inhale. Or think rationally. “You stayed with me last night. You didn’t leave.”

“I told you, I-”

“Yeah, yeah, doctor bullshit - but you didn’t have to be sweet, or cute, or hold me until I fell asleep. And you did all that just because I asked.” His fingers curled around your hair, playing with the strands. “Makes me wonder what else you’ll do if I ask nicely.”

“Are you capable of nice?”

“Always so cheeky.” His eyes centered on your lips, studying your pout. The way he was looking at you right now, it was too much, desire rushing through your veins, overwhelming you, more so when he drew closer, whispering in your ear. “Maybe I need to keep your mouth busy with something else. Got any ideas?”

Your body trembled, shivering at the sensation of his breath on your neck. Desperate for some respite, you closed your eyes. What was he doing to you? This was stupid. Stupid and incredibly risky. And knowing how easily you’d succumb to him scared you. Using every bit of strength you possessed, you removed yourself form his grip and took a step back. “Whatever you’re playing at, stop. It’s not gonna work.”

His lips broke into a smirk. “Sure about that? Looks like t’s working already.”

“Go fuck yourself!”

You turned around and stormed out of the room, agitated by his amused laughter that echoed behind you.

To be continued...

A/N - I know it’s a short chapter but I thought the morning after deserved it’s own part.

#billy russo x reader #billy russo #ben barnes #the punisher #grudgingly yours

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