#I feel like an absent father im sorry but im back (kinda)

[sillysadduck]

i remmber you had an au abt yellow like having drained batteries and im so so so mad i cant find any post abt it

YES LOVE THAT WOULD BE ME (: actually I did this today bc I got my tablet back

If you want to find it try going through the low battery au tag! I'll put it down here in the tags for you <3

[girlboybug]

Ultraviolence

"he hit me and it felt like a kiss."

or the one where ellie finds refuge in your farm house, whereas joel only finds a challenge of self restraint when he meets you.

what’s playing 🎧 : ultraviolence by lana del rey

pairing : joel miller x female!reader

word count : 9k

CONTENT WARNINGS : SMUT, mean!joel, virgin!reader, loss of virginity, manhandling, rough sex, spitting, slight voyeurism if you squint, f!masturbation, m!masturbation, spanking, fingering, slight dom/sub dynamics, panties fetish, creampies, unprotected sex, breeding kink, light restraining, choking, tummy bulge, impact play if u kinda squint and tilt ur head, degrading, light praise, daddy kink im sorry yall (not rlly), unspecified age gap, dirty talk, fluff for 2 seconds at the end :p

TRIGGER WARNINGS : reader has emotionally absent/verbally abusive dad, takes place after the david incident but there's zero mention of it lolz just background for yall, joel is mean and rude tbh, kinda very toxic but im addicted to old toxic men sowwy (plz dont ever let a man treat yall like this irl!!) anyways this is all i can think of, lmk if i missed anything! otherwise pls enjoy!! <3

a/n : wouldn't be a fic written by user girlboybug if the reader didn't have raging daddy issues lolz

there’s creaking at the front patio, the old wood worn down by countless stomps from your boots never failed to act as an alerting system for any trespassers. your heart sinks when you force yourself to get up, the responsibility to inspect the origins of the noise falling on your shoulders alone. 

yippie. 

your hand finds its hold around the neck of your dad’s shotgun, sock covered feet waiting a pregnant pause at your door, swallowing down the brunt of your nerves thickly. you inch out the door, holding the shotgun as steady as you can, eyes fighting to not fail you by succumbing to the night blur that glazes over your vision. 

your sights land on a figure of a man, anxiety hitting you with the heel of its fist into your nervous system once his silhouette becomes clear before you. you pointedly aim at him, praying that the act seems intimidating enough. “you’re trespassin’” you call out, prompting him to raise his hands beside his head, keeping his movements slow and careful as to not give you a reason to shoot. 

“just lookin for shelter ma’am,” he replies, his voice feels deep when it hits your ears, not stopping short of rich. “not buyin’ it. now i’m not gonna repeat myself, leave before i blow your goddamn head off,” you shoot your threats in the place of bullets, but your tone gives out on you, giving in to your fear, cracking in on itself mid sentence. 

a young girl moves from behind him, her hands also beside her head. “ellie,” he whisper yells, trying to move back in front of her. your hard glare falls into a guilty gaze, and your shotgun falters downward. “thought i told you to stay behind me–” she cuts him off, probably causing a vein on the side of his temple to burst with stress when she moves in front of him to speak. 

“we’re just looking for somewhere to stay for the night, and we’ll be out of your hair by morning. we promise.” the now named girl swears, looking at the man that dwarfs her in size for extra confirmation. “promise her joel,” she hushedly instructs and he huffs, looking back at you. “promise.” he adds gruffly. 

they look like father and daughter, and you don’t have it in you to turn them away, and despite the possibility that lingers in the back of your mind that this is all a ploy to rob you blind, you settle on the fact that it’s worth the risk to let them in. 

your shotgun rests beside you, no longer using it as a shield from the fear of an impending threat. “okay,” you verbally decide, and ellie lets out a sigh of relief, leaning into joel. he holds onto her with a sense of care, of protection, and your heart pangs at the sight as they climb up onto the patio. 

your lips drop open unintentionally when the man that now has a name and a face to go along with it, stands before you. 

he’s tall, he’s handsome, much older than both you and the girl. “thank you ma’am,” he says, a curt nod from the top of his head, and ellie offers a small smile, joining in his nod. “thank you,” she whispers, and you smile back, moving to the side to let them in. 

immediate comfort envelopes the pair, a quiet breath of it being expelled from them, and you close the door behind you, locking it to make sure that the warmth from inside doesn’t morph into the frigid wind outside. 

“there anyone else with you?” joel questions, unintendedly sending a worried alert in your mind, your body language showing a visible uncomfortableness at the question. 

ellie notices, nudging joel with her elbow. “dude?” she mouths, eyebrows furrowed, silently asking, what the fuck? 

you find yourself trusting her more than you do him, which is just enough of an amount to get you to believe he doesn't mean to sound as sketchy as he comes across. “just me and my dad. he’s asleep upstairs,” you respond, and joel looks back at you, pursing his lips, nodding. 

“i’ll show you where you guys can sleep, and i can even get you a change of clothes.” you say, flickering between the two of them before turning on your heel. they trail behind you quietly while you lead them to their temporary rooms. 

walking up the stairs, and past the stretch of the hallway, you stop at one of the spare rooms, pushing open the door. “there’s this one, and then,” you lean over, pushing open a door to the room just beside it. “this one. up to you guys to decide whoever gets which,” you send them off with a nervous smile, rubbing your palms over your pajama bottoms. 

“thank you,” ellie calls out, lowering her voice but keeping it at an octave audible enough for you to hear. you turn back, smiling at the young girl before going into your bedroom. you grab a pair of pajamas for the pair, trying to be quick so as to not keep them waiting. 

you return to them, finding them both in the same room, sitting at the side of the bed. ellie’s head is leant against joel’s arm, his stare resting over her. the pang hits you again, but you push past it, gently tapping your knuckles over the door. his stare moves from her to you. 

“these are for her, and here’re some of my dad’s old clothes for you. they should fit, but if not you can uh, let me know and i’ll find something else for you.” you set them down beside him, and he nods, a tight lipped inch of a curl over his mouth spreads just slightly, acknowledging your actions.

“these should be fine,” he places a hand over the folded clothes, where your’s was and you find yourself swallowing hard again. his hand is big. 

“alright, well goodnight.” you wish kindly, making your way out the door, nodding a polite bidding. “night,” he responds, traces of southerness apparent in his vowels. “thank you,” he makes sure to say before you leave.

for everything he wants to add, but he doesn’t, which is okay, you can hear it through the crickets and the quiet peacefulness that passes through the room. 

you leave him with an equally hushed response of no problem, the door closing behind you at the curt ending of your reply. 

–

your eyes snap wide open, a low wince falling out at the sting from the rude awakening your body is being subjected to. your name rings as a harsh echo, and you’re quick to your feet, remembering the girl and the man staying in your home, unbeknownst to your dad. “shit,” you groan, hurriedly rushing across the hallway and down the stairs. 

and there was your father, loud, angry, and yelling at…joel? if you remembered his name correctly. “who the fuck are these people and why are they tellin’ me you let them in last night?” he all but shouts, and you feel small, humiliated.

“i did, i’m sorry, they don’t mean any harm, they just needed a place to stay for the night.” you answer meekly, and joel’s fists tighten, every fiber of his being wanting nothing more than to plummet his fists into the side of your dad’s jaw. 

“lord,” he exhales, shutting his eyes and pinching his nose bridge. he walks towards you, a finger pointed at your face when he speaks. 

“if they wanna stay they better make themselves useful, if not, i want them out my goddamn house in 5 minutes.” he snipes irritatedly, eyeing you down with annoyance, making sure you saw the seriousness in his face before he leaves, trudging out the front door. ellie watches with sympathetic eyes as you flinch when he slams the door shut.

it’s quiet for longer than you’d like for it to be, but you’re unsure of what to say after being belittled in front of people who are virtually strangers.

“what a dick,” ellie exhales and joel looks at her, eyes wide, lips tight with chastising ready to be released. “ellie!” he chides and she raises her arms in disgruntled defense. “what? he is!” 

you laugh, and they turn to you surprisedly. “yeah, he is. i’m sorry about that.” you sigh, and joel shakes his head. “no, we’re sorry, we didn’t mean to impose and cause you all that trouble.” he apologizes, genuineness in his softened tone, a pane of his thick drawl behind it, and it soothes away the feeling your dad left you with. 

“it’s alright, it’s just how he is,” you say, attempting to pacify their concerns, but ellie, blows out a quiet breath, eyes slightly wider when she tilts her head side to side. “massive asshole,” she mutters, and you giggle before joel can chide her once more. she smiles at your laughter, and joel just sighs his 100th sigh. 

“you guys can sit, he’ll be gone for most of the day. i can make some breakfast before you have to go?” you offer, motioning towards the dining table, desperate to move past this topic. “mighty gracious of you, but we should get goin,” joel inadvertently rejects your offers, and you frown. 

ellie turns to him, a hopeful stare chipping away at his decision. “dude please, there’s only so much chef boyardee i can take.”

you stifle a laugh at her pleading, tying an apron around your waist. 

“fine.” he sighs, and ellie whispers a successful yes!

–

as time went by, you grew closer to ellie, but almost as a trade off, it seemed as though joel drifted further and further from you, leaving you with no idea as to why. 

you’ve been nothing but kind to him, and the more you tried to do…well, anything, it only pushed him away instead of bringing him in closer. 

granted, you did do things that prompt some kind of annoyed response from joel, like right now, as joel stands in the bathroom, his eyes falling to your discarded panties on the ground. 

he marches out the bathroom, searching for you. “ellie, where’s the girl?” he asks, and she can hear the irritation building in the base of his voice. “uh, outside, she’s picking some fruit, why?” she queries, turning around from her seated position on the couch to face him.

he strides towards the door, eyes glaring straight ahead. “no reason.” he replies sardonically, and ellie rolls her eyes, flipping back on the couch. 

your dad had gone into the next town over to collect more supplies, do some more trading and other various things, but you didn’t care, he’s gone for the time being, and you’re happy, at ease, with more time to look after your garden and spend time leisurely picking at the fruits that hang from the trees above you. 

you’re resting on your knees, overalls rolled up to your thighs, bandana covering your hairline, nimble fingers plucking at the strawberries from the array of bushes. the rays of sunlight blanketing over your skin suddenly vanishes, and you turn, hand over your forehead when you look up at joel. 

“oh hi joel! strawberry?” you chirp, offering a plump strawberry, and he exhales through his nose, eyes raking over you. 

you have a habit of almost never wearing bra’s, and you just about live in overalls and shorts, always accompanied by some tight fitted top. 

god, you make his life so hard. 

little pink ribbons are tied over the top strap buckles of your overalls, and you look so adorable that it almost makes him angry. 

“no, thanks, look, i know it was your bathroom before it was mine, but for the love of god, please stop leavin’ your…undergarments on the floor.” the subtle twang increases just a notch at the way he rattles about your sightly panties. 

your face gets hotter than it was from the sun and you drop your arm, looking away embarrassedly. “oh my god how embarrassing, i’m so sorry, i’m just not used to sharing my bathroom, but that’s not an excuse, i’ll take care of them, i’m sorry joel,” voice pretty and soft, just like you, and he sighs, staring at you for a thick standstill, before going back into the house. “messy girl,” he mutters to himself. 

he finds his way back into the bathroom, eyeing the suspect in question, feeling the strings in his chest pull in tight. he picks up the pair with a curl of his finger, eyeing it like a foreign object. 

he clenches down on his teeth when he stares at it, the pink striped cotton is soft, a little bow adorning the front of it. 

he feels dizzy. 

he honestly considers pocketing them, but immediate disgust kicks in and he drops them, walking out. 

dirty old man. 

–

you are inescapable, easily running joel’s patience down into the dirt beneath his boot. your dad is still gone, but joel and ellie listened when he said to be useful. 

they help you around the house, almost doin ’more than you, joel would grumble, but no matter how much he busied himself with chores, there was hints of you in everything. 

when he’s feeding the chickens or collecting their eggs, he can look not too far out and see the clothesline where you air dry their laundry, not a single thought about letting your bra’s hang from the wire, taunting joel. 

he imagines you in it, the racy little red number, nipples perked behind the flimsy material, shoulder’s beckoning to slide the straps down.

“shit,” he grunts, looking down and seeing the smashed egg in his fist, squeezed to pieces from the intensity of his perverse thoughts.

sometimes he thinks you do this shit on purpose, mocking an old man with something you would never give him, and he feels like banging his head into the wall. 

and in this moment he feels it’d be an especially good time to do so, exhaling sharply from his flared nostrils while he searches around for you, calling out your name, only to be met with no reply. he can’t find ellie either and he’s panicking, he’s panicking bad. 

he shouts your name from the very depths of his stomach, and he pushes every door he sees open until he stops at your bedroom door, pushing inside and growling with anger when he sees you laid upside down in your bed, hands resting on your tummy with thick headphones clamped over your ears. 

he stalks towards you, bending down and ripping your headphones straight off your head. your eyes snap open and you jerk upwards from the bed, clambering off the bed in the most unflattering way possible, rushing to get to your feet. 

“joel what the hell? what’s going on?” you ask, and he scoffs, mad that you have the audacity to be annoyed here. 

“where the fuck is ellie?” he grits out, and you sigh, snatching back your headphones when you answer. “she’s in the stable with my horse, she’s fine joel.” you promise, and he squints his eyes, shaking his head frustratedly. 

“y’can’t just send her off somewhere on her own like that and not even think to tell me, and – dammit, don’t wear those goddamned headphones when i’m callin for you, god you are so irresponsible,” he rants, his voice trailing up a ledge of loud anger, and it’s your turn to get mad. 

“okay joel, you need to stop fucking yelling at me, she’s still on the damn property, she isn’t gone in the next town over, i’d never put her in a situation where she could get hurt and secondly, you don’t get to talk to me like that and tell me what i can and can’t do in my own house.” you’re in his face now, making an effort to stand up for yourself, but joel isn’t tolerating any of it. 

“you listen here little girl and you listen good,” he moves in closer, and you suddenly feel overly aware of his proximity, almost immediately backing down to move away, but no, you wanted to talk back like a big girl, you’re going to face the consequences of one. 

“you best lose that nasty fuckin’ attitude of your’s, i don’t care if this is your house or not, it ain’t an excuse to act like a goddamned thoughtless brat.” he’s breathing heavier now, his face too close to your’s, chest dangerously nearing your own. 

your eyes nictate back and forth in his, desperately suppressing the tears that imperil at your waterline, biting on your bottom lip to stop it from wobbling. “you’re such an asshole,” is all you can manage to fire back through a weak excuse of a response. 

he scoffs at you, stepping back before marching out your room. “no shit sweetheart,” he sneers with a lowered baseline of exasperation. 

you fall back on your bed when he’s gone and out of earshot, holding your face in your hands, allowing yourself to let out the tears that almost spilled out in front of joel. 

your fists wipe the tears away, angry that they were even there, each stream down your cheek is a reminder of who caused them. 

refusing to give in to the pain that gnaws at your chest from his spewing anger, you get up, walking out your room, deciding to make your way around back to the stables. 

ellie was saddled over applejack, your only horse, with joel sitting behind her, his arms wrapped around her, keeping her steady, keeping her safe. 

the gnawing bites down harder inside your chest, and you’re unable to fight against it. instead you cradle yourself, comforting the ache while leaning against the bulk of the tree behind you, watching them interact. 

his gaze over her is so soft, so full of care, of love, and he’s laughing, which enables her laughter, and you find yourself smiling as you watch them despite what had just transpired. 

you watch as ellie plops the cowboy hat you had left on applejack’s saddle over his head, and your back gets stiff against the bark of the tree when she does. 

he fixes the hat atop his head, and it annoyingly suits him well. 

he looks like a proper cowboy.

your eyes drift down to the way his hips roll with each trot from applejack, his back leant naturally, looking relaxed, confident, like he knows what he’s doing, and that he knows he does it well. 

his hand runs over the side of applejack lovingly, his strong hand smoothing over her coat, and you feel like crumbling down into the soil of the earth, breathing in a little harder when you imagine those rough, strong hands of his on your skin instead. 

you reach up, pulling a peach from the tree above your head, settling down to sit and just watch the two gallop along with applejack. 

joel’s eyes find you, they always do, and almost like she just knew, ellie decides to lead applejack back over to where you are. joel’s hands tighten over the reins, jaw clenching when they make their way over to you.

“well hi there sweet girl,” you coo, petting applejack when she bends her neck downward, greeting you happily. 

you bite down into your peach, laughing quietly to yourself when the juice spills down your cleavage. joel follows the way the juice rolls down your chest, disappearing behind the pesky coverage of your tank top, and he feels like it's a punishment for his previous yelling. 

you hand the rest of the peach into applejack’s mouth, cooing an, aww there you go sweet girl. 

“damn these look good.” ellie whistles, reaching up to pluck a peach down. 

she drops it, and she groans when it hits the ground. “i got it, don’t worry!” you remedy, turning around to bend down and grab it for her. joel feels like dying when he sees the heart curve of your ass, it’s almost too perfect, and he wonders if this is how his heart finally gives out. 

kinda looks like a peach… he thinks to himself, eyes tracing over the form of your ass for as long as he can before you’re turning back to face them. 

you go up on your tippy toes, quickly grabbing another peach, handing the new one to ellie and tossing the one that fell over to joel. 

“you get that one,” you half tease, half huff, and ellie laughs, waving her clean peach at joel. his eyes settle on you while you talk to ellie, ignoring his presence. 

his teeth sinks down into the peach, his stare trickling over the way you’re squeezed into those stupid fucking tiny shorts, and he thinks about a different type of flesh to bite into. 

– 

nighttime visits your household once more, but it’s anything but peaceful for you and joel. 

ellie knocked out as soon as she collapsed in her bed, but joel’s wide awake. he wants to sleep, wants to forget this day even happened, but he can’t. he replays everything despite his efforts to pretend that the events from today didn’t even occur. 

however, guilt drags its spindly fingers across the muscle of his heart while flashes of his loud anger directed at you forces itself to be acknowledged behind his eyelids. with a disgruntled huff he rips the blankets off his body, climbing out of bed. 

he pushes past the door, making his way to your room to apologize for his harshness. 

the closer he gets to your room, the more he hears a concerning sound gently echoing from behind the door. his brows fly up and he grips at your doorknob, turning it. his knuckles tighten over the knob, his body standing still and stiff in the cracked entrance when he sees you. 

you’re sprawled in your bed, sheets hanging off you, covering not a single thing, leaving joel to wonder if what he’s looking at is real or not, and if it is, should he even be looking at you like this?

he knows the answer to that, it's a big fat resounding no, but joel doesn’t exactly have the purest morals of all time, so he stays in spite of his conscience telling him to close the door. 

he watches your head roll side to side tirelessly, back arching off the bed, bucking your hips into your hand, struggling to pleasure yourself the way you need. your fingers keep sliding off your poor clit, too soaked to keep a good grip on it. 

it sounds sticky, even from where joel stands, it’s all so fucking dirty, your sweet little whimpers going straight to his cock, pushing up against his sweatpants that already hang low off his hips. 

he palms at himself, trying to alleviate the throbbing ache. his eyes follow the curve of your bare chest, your tight tank top under your chin, pretty tits in the air, hard nipples that are begging to be in joel’s mouth. 

you whine to yourself, eyes watering with frustration when your fingers refuse to stay put on your needy clit, trying to instead fill your fluttering hole that clenches around nothing.

joel’s fingernails dig into the doorframe, physically restraining himself from going in there and shoving himself so far into you that it hits your cervix, stretching you nice and open for him. 

he thinks about how he’d make you take it, how you’d claw down his back while he fucks you like you deserve. 

he feels disgusting, like a goddamn pervert, but he again wins the battle against any morals he has left and stays to watch. you sound so wet its fucking ridiculous, he just wants to lap it all up on his tongue and drink you in. 

but what he really wants, is to make you beg, to make you cry. 

you further test his will, when his name floats from your trembling lips, his jaw going slack at the unreal moan. his hand falls to his straining cock, squeezing it, silently pleading with you to be good and say it one more time for him, to confirm he heard you right. 

and you do, you whimper his name, an airy little, joel, while grinding down on your finger, trying to angle your hips to hit a spot you hardly ever have success in satiating. 

good girl, he grits without a sound, his thumb brushing over the tip of his cock. 

you think back to him yelling at you, ignoring the pain of the memory, and instead rewriting how the fight ended. your brain conjures up an alternate ending, where he bends you over the foot of your bed, smacking his hand over the fat of your ass before he rams himself inside you. 

you think about his back curling over yours, his cock too deep inside you, muttering for you to fuckin’ take it. 

he’d have his face in the crook of your neck, his beard would tickle your skin while the dirtiest words you can think of would be listed off in your ear. 

his beard, your hips rise in the air desperately, your mind now imagining his stubble between your thighs, how his mustache would brush over your clit until it’s raw. “please, want it joel, want it so bad,” you moan to yourself in a pleading fluttery little voice, and joel almost steps forward at your begging.

i’ll give it you, he promises to himself, wishing he could tell you instead.

he can’t fucking take it, he drinks in the bare sight of you once more, memorizing each curve, the way your voice trembles, the way your legs shake, the plump of your thighs and chest, and fuck, he thinks he’ll pass out before he can even make it back to his room. 

he carefully closes the door, striding hurriedly back to his bed. he shuts his door, making an immediate dash to his awaiting mattress. 

he pulls the blanket over his hips, tugging down his sweatpants and letting his cock spring up. he uses his precum as lube, too impatient to spit in his hand. he fists at his fat cock, pushing past the roughness from his palm, pretending that it’s your soft hand wrapped around him. 

he thinks back to what he just saw, imagining that he did step inside, closing the door behind him before making his way to you. 

you’d probably get scared at the sudden sight of him in front of you, but he imagines that you’d be too desperate to care about his actions. 

you’d grab his wrist, bringing his hand to your poor little cunt. “touch me, please joel?” you’d plead with those watery eyes of yours, and he would, he’d touch you until you couldn’t take it. 

but he’d make you take it, he’d stretch you out on his fingers before he’d get his cock in you. he can only fantasize about how good your tight little cunt would feel all around him, how snug you’d be, gripping him in, but no matter how hard he tries to pretend, he knows his imagination does your pussy no justice to how good it’d actually be. 

he starts fucking his hand, head falling back into his pillow, his bicep’s flexing with straint while he goes to squeeze his cockhead, traveling back down to his shaft, struggling to please every inch of himself. 

he wonders if you’re a virgin, wonders if anyones gotten to see you like how he did, or did they get to experience it themselves?  

he gets jealous at the thought, but he erases it, instead thinking of the possibility of no one ever getting to touch you but him. 

yeah, he likes that, he likes thinking about being the first and last cock you’ll ever have deep inside you. shit, he growls, thumbing over his leaking tip, he’s close. 

he starts panting, chest falling more rapidly with heavy breaths, his hand working over himself faster now, the slick from his pumping fist around his cock is embarrassingly loud, but he uses it and pretends it’s the sound of him in your pussy, and that does it for him. 

he cums in his fist, slowly thrusting into the tunnel of his hand before he releases himself, and he groans, letting his body sink deeper into his bed. 

fuckin’ disgustin’ he mutters to himself. 

–

he can barely look at you the next morning, he feels hot all over when you so much as walk past him, your scent always trailing behind you and filling his senses. 

you smell like the sweetest form of vanilla and it makes him unstable, feeling like he’s gotta hold onto something to remain upright when you’re near him. 

you make your own soap, and, of course you make your own fuckin’ soap, he thinks to himself, growing weaker by the second when you talk about how you used vanilla beans in your recipe for soap. 

you offer to make some for him, but he declines as politely as he can, finding any excuse to establish some space. he can’t be near you, not now, and not later, he needs time to remind himself what self control is. 

he decides to chop some firewood, the nights are getting colder and colder anyways, and he thinks this’ll be a good distraction for him. 

he pours all his frustration into it, swinging the axe from behind his shoulder and down into the blocks of wood, chopping them up into logs.

sweat lines his forehead, his biceps bulging from the tight constraints of his rolled up flannel, and you watch from the window, staring at him as he leans back, taking in a few deep breaths while he wipes his forehead before continuing. 

you swish your thighs together, walking away when you realize if you don’t move now, you’ll stay the rest of the day just watching him. 

-

after a few hours outside, joel is beat, he thinks he deserves a break. he trudges back inside, sighing when he’s greeted with the fresh air conditioned breeze. 

your legs hang off the arm of the couch, head resting on a cushion and buried in a magazine. 

he eyes your legs while he walks into the bathroom, almost unable to tear away from them. but when he walks through the door, he closes his eyes immediately once they land on the ground, as if the sight before him physically hurts. 

he exhales with aggravation when he sees your white cotton panties on the floor, and your cream lacy bra hanging off the towel rack, mocking him. 

he’s had enough. 

he stomps out the bathroom, and you brace yourself for the latest lecture when you hear the nearing ruckus of his boots connecting to the wood floors. 

he yells your name, his voice curling around the curve of an upward rage. “what joel,” you yell back mockingly, he stands above you, looking furiously down at you.

“what did i tell you about your goddamn panties and bra in the fuckin’ bathroom,” he shouts, jabbing his thumb back towards the bathroom. you huff, swinging your legs from the arm of the couch, rising to your feet. “i’m sorry!” you throw your arms up annoyedly. 

“i’ll get ‘em, i understand it’s annoying but joel you don’t need to yell over every. fuckin’. thing, you can talk to me like a normal person,” you contradict your own words, pointing a finger at him while you shout back. 

he grabs your finger, pulling your wrist down and away from his face, beaming anger glinting in his eyes. 

“thought i told you to get rid of that nasty fuckin’ attitude little girl,” he spits, words hanging in the air like a venomous gas, and you all but growl with irritation. 

“i’m not a little girl and you’re not my dad, y’don’t get to talk to me like that you fucking dick,” you bark back, feeling a sudden fear when you see the way he’s looking at you. 

his top lip curls with disdain, and he nods slightly to himself, like he’s just mentally made his decision. 

he grabs you by your upper arm, dragging you along with him back around to the couch. “let me go,” you try pulling your arm from him, but it does nothing, his grip is stronger than your efforts. 

he sits down, pulling you into his lap, grabbing you roughly and repositioning you so your tummy rests over his thighs. “what are you doin–” he holds your jaw, forcing you to crane your neck to face him.

“i’m gettin’ real sick of your fuckin’ back talk, you say you’re not a little girl yet all you do is act like one, a real rude one at that,” he grits in your face, and you feel small, wishing the couch would just swallow you whole. 

“i ain’t your dad but you need some serious fuckin’ discipline,” he lets go of your jaw, letting you fall back into the cushion. he unhooks your overalls, pulling them down and under your ass. 

he exhales lowly when he sees the hypnotic curve of your ass, clad in baby blue polka dotted underwear, it’s too cute that it makes him sick. 

he doesn’t even think when his hand runs over your ass, smoothing over your skin, squeezing the thick flesh in his large palms. you whimper under your breath, squirming in his hold. “stay still,” he orders, his tone cold, riding on a mean line of pointed annoyance. 

“you’re gonna say you’re sorry with every one of ‘em, you hear me girl?” he asks, resting his hand on your ass testingly. 

you nod quietly, but it isn’t good enough, he’s grabbing your face again, forcing eye contact. “when i ask you a question you answer.” he sneers, teeth baring for a second and you squeeze your thighs together, feeling your clit ache embarrassingly from the harsh treatment. 

“i hear you.” you reply meekly, and it suffices, because he’s letting go of your jaw, refocusing on the new task he has at hand, or rather, in his lap. 

he rests his palm over one cheek, causing you to suck in a sharp breath, the warmth from his hand tingling your skin. 

your clit is right up against his knee, and you want more than anything to rut on it, roll your hips to gain any kind of friction, but you figure you’re in enough trouble as it is so it’s best to hold back these desires. 

he raises his hand, slamming it back down and eliciting a loud smack that resonates around the room. you cry out, gripping onto the cushion under you. “i’m sorry,” you whimper out, skin prickling with heat. 

he does it again, his heavy hand rising up only to crash back down against the fat of your ass. “i’m sorry,” your voice trembles, your eyes already beginning to water, despite the fact that you’re just barely getting started. 

he slaps over your ass, hard. his rough calloused palm emitting an even stronger sting over your soft skin, and you cry out, kicking your legs against the armrest of the couch, feeling the anger increasing with each rough impact from his palm.

“i’m so-orry,” you hiccup, wiping away the tears streaming down your cheeks. he continues with the abuse on your ass, feeling a twinge of guilt at the way you cry but manage to say your apologies with each relentless hit to your bottom one after the other. 

“you gonna listen to me when i tell you to do somethin’?” he raises his voice, along with his hand, letting it fall down onto your pounding flesh when you don’t answer fast enough. “yes, yes gonna listen,” you wail, little feet kicking with pain. 

“gonna lose that fuckin’ attitude of your’s?” he grunts, smacking your ass hard over where he just hit, watching you howl in anguish, back trying to arch away from the pain. 

“yes,” you sob, nodding with earnest. 

you’ve lost count of how many it’s been, the only thing that remains consistent is the hot pain that comes in waves over your bruising skin, the welts in the shape of his hand throbbing and aching in never ending flashes. 

he rubs over your skin, soothing the soreness away, before he drops his hand against it once more, erasing the little comfort he was giving you. 

you’re apologizing through loud wailing, not a care in the world for how embarrassing it is to be sobbing in joel’s lap, because it fucking hurts. 

he swats over your ass, fast and rough, letting the sting of it settle into a prickling pain that spreads down to the backs of your thighs.

after a few more hard hits to your ass, he figures you’ve had enough, your crying making him feel a pang of remorse for not taking it easier on you. he runs his hand over your scorched bottom, mending the abused flesh in an attempt to calm you down. 

you’re crying, lashes getting slick from your tears, lips growing plump with the loud hiccups of pain. he massages over your ass, gently this time, but your skin feels too raw to enjoy it. 

his self restraint is weakening, he can’t stop himself when he tilts his head back, leaning into the couch to look down at your inner thighs. he sees a wet patch spreading over your panties, and he scoffs, bringing two fingers to it. 

you gasp, trying to wriggle away from it, but he keeps you still. “interestin’” he half snickers, and you just about die of humiliation. 

“reckon you want me to do somethin’ about this?” he murmurs, voice gruffly cascading in the teeming air. he circles over the wet patch, giving you a chance to turn him down, shut down his advances, but you don’t want to. 

you bend a little, arching into his touch. “please?’ you whimper, all embarrassment gone from the pain, and he inhales a hefty breath, swallowing thickly. 

he slides your panties to the side, drawing his fingers up and down your slick. you shiver, tightening your legs around him. 

“can’t believe you’re soaked over that,” he taunts meanly, judgingly, and you whimper, your face getting hot from the base of your throat when he pushes in his middle finger. 

“you’re s’mean,” you sniffle and he scoffs at your complaints, pushing his finger in deeper to watch you gasp and shake. 

“i showed you what mean is,” he chuckles lowly, leaning down to make sure you hear him. he shifts his hips around, pressing something to your hip, making sure you feel it. 

“and this ain’t mean,” he curls his finger right up into that little spot you struggled to reach last night. he starts curling his finger, right there, and suddenly you can’t breathe, you can’t even believe this is happening, but whether it’s real or not you don’t want it to stop. 

“more,” you whine, pushing back on his hand with a devout need. his free hand grips at the bruising flesh of your ass, the plumpness of it filling the gaps between his fingers, and you wince, little hands trying to grip at the cushions for comfort. 

“you’re a greedy little girl with no fuckin’ manners. do i need to do this all over again just to remind you to say please?” he raises his hand back up over your ass, and you’re shaking your head, turning back at him pleadingly. “n-no, no, i’m so sorry,” you whimper, the backs of your hands covering your stinging bottom feebly. 

he laughs at your attempts, but decides he’ll let it slide. he moves your hands away, and pushes his finger back inside, filling you up to the knuckle. you moan deeply, relief at the pleasure entering you once more. the way he fucks you with his finger is all you need to even begin trying to ignore the resounding pain he instilled into your ass. 

little pants leave past your lips, your cheek squished against the couch while you try to fuck yourself onto his fingers. “feel’s s’good,” you drool. 

he can’t stop the downward spiral he’s letting himself fall into with you, he’s in too deep, and he’s just accepted that he wants to go deeper. 

you’re rutting your clit against his knee just how you’ve been wanting to this whole time, and he watches you as a desperate little wet thing in his lap trying to get off with what he’s giving you. 

"you know i saw you last night," he whispers in your ear, beard tickling your neck when he leans in real close, his finger picking up speed when he continues. 

your face burns hot, and you can't bear to look at him. "oh god," you moan, half from pleasure, half from pure humiliation. 

"heard you sayin' my name too, there somethin' you wanna tell me?" he pushes you a little further, watching and waiting to see how you reply. 

you're so disoriented, you can't think straight past the embarrassment and the feeling of joel refusing to let up with his finger inside you. he rubs over that perfect spot right there, and it feels so good that it almost kills the shame that burrows itself under your skin. 

"n-no? no, i dunno," you whine dumbly, and he rolls his eyes, flicking his wrist harder now, gripping the hand of yours that tries to hold onto him. "you don't know?" he parrots back mockingly. 

"you just so happened to be tryin' to finger yourself while moanin' my name? that just a coincidence?" his words jab at your cheeks with taunts and you whimper, hiding your face away from him, still shamelessly grinding down onto him when he works another finger in you, stretching you out. 

"i'm sorry," is all you can whimper, you feel stupid with his fingers in you, bullying your poor cunt until it makes that addictive pap pap pap sound. "apologizin' for the wrong thing, should've been sayin' that instead of talkin' back to me," he grunts, letting go of your wrist to smack the side of your ass. 

you cry out, shaking in his lap from the slap, the pain echoing over the sore flesh. "i'm sorry," you draw out longly, chest racking with tears mixed with pain and ecstasy. 

he pulls his fingers from out your tight hole, and you whine, looking back at him with those pretty, innocently guilty eyes of yours.  

"quit your whinin'," he mutters, pulling you upright into his lap. he looks back into your gaze, and it only reminds him of how you're breaking him down into a weak, weak man.  

his thumb runs across your bottom lip, dipping into it. "open," he tells you with a softer, hushed sternness. you obey, parting your lips for him. 

he spits in your mouth, and you take it like a kiss, carrying the action like a caress. it mixes with your own saliva, ingraining himself in your dna. 

he stares at you expectantly, hands lowering down to your ass, squeezing it indignantly, like a warning. 

"thank you," you breathe out, feeling drunk on him. he seems pleased, his tight clasp over your ass gets gentler, but it's still firm, still there. 

"got a real issue of rememberin' your manners there girl," he tsks, his thumb trailing down your chin, his other hand patting your bottom. "but i'll fix that, fix that right up." he promises, but it feels more like a threat, one that he intends on staying true to. 

he lays you flat on your back onto the couch, and you allow him to, letting him do whatever he pleases with you, and he thinks he likes you like this, so sweet and so pliant. 

he pulls your legs towards him, he feels hungry, feels impatient, he wants all of you and he wants it all now. 

joel hasn't wanted anything in years, because if you don't want anything, you won't be disappointed when you don't get it. 

but now he's got you in front of him and he can't take it. he wants you. he's greedy, and he's dirty, but he doesn't care, you've done irreversible damage that he expects will be somehow repaired if he can just get a fix of you, just enough to gratify his bodily needs. 

your legs find their way around his hips as if you've done this before, as if his body has been with your's prior to this, connecting like they're supposed to. he slots himself between your thighs, feeling almost overwhelmed to finally have you like this for him. 

you want to kiss him, want to hold him, want him him him, and although you've already got him, you still feel like there's more of him to be had. 

he unbuckles his belt, the sound urging your legs to tighten around his waist. his eyes drag over you, slowly taking in the vision that's you, as he unbuttons his jeans. he pulls himself out, your gaze dropping down to him, feeling your heart sink immediately. 

you never assumed he was small, not that you thought about what was under those jeans, (lies) but shit, this was just obscene. near unnecessary, because how in the hell does he function carrying that…thing around? 

he sees your gawking, and an annoying pride fills him to the brim at your visible awe. "is that gonna fit?" you finally ask, and he laughs, pumping himself when he inches closer. "we're about to see aren't we?" he answers, moving your panties to the side. 

you get stiff with nerves, holding onto his strong bicep. "joel i-i dunno if it'll fit," you admit, you sound scared, because you are, and he almost feels bad. almost. 

"if you don't want this tell me now," he places your panties back, but you're shaking your head, pulling him back in. "no i do, i do, promise," you sound so desperate, so needy, and he's trying so hard to not just fuck you right now. 

"just, scared…i never uh..you know." you motion between you two and he swears he nearly punched the air with obnoxious success. "this your first time?" he confirms, and you nod, feeling shy under his stare. 

"not like i've been trying to save myself or anything, there's just no one around over here," you explain, not that you needed to, if anything joel is ecstatic with a primal possession that he gets to be your first. 

"so you're jumpin' at the first man who gives you some attention? 'specially an old man like me?" he circles the tip of his cock around your clit, and your lips part, hips instinctively lowering down on him. "n-no, i," you don't have any words for him, his actions rendering you silent.

he starts slowly inching in, and your head falls deeper into the cushion behind you, nails crescenting into his forearms. he goes in with no resistance, you're so fucking soaked around him, gripping him in like a warm welcome. 

"shit," he shudders, fully sheathing himself inside you. his hand lands beside your head, panting above you, and he looks so beautiful like this. he's so handsome, his eyebrows are in that furrow that they're always in, but this time it's for a different reason. 

you look down at where you're connected, and you feel as though you're now one, he's a part of you as you are of him, and you never want him to leave. 

you start rolling your hips experimentally, no matter where or how you move, you feel him deep inside, the fat head of his cock hitting there, over and over, and it feels so good, you don't think twice about continuing your little ministrations. 

he forcibly pauses your actions, halting your hips down with a rough grip from his hands. he's glaring down at you, uh oh.  

"greedy little girl," he grunts, starting to piston his hips inside you. you cry out, leaning forward to find solace in his broad chest, but he pushes you back down, pinning you still. he pauses for a moment, grabbing his belt. "wrists." he orders, and you listen without wasting a second. 

he ties your wrists, pushing them above your head before he continues. he's groaning atop of you, fucking you with a purpose, and you take him, entire body bopping upwards with every harsh thrust being fucked into you. 

you want to touch him so bad, it feels like torture, you want to put your hands under his flannel, explore the skin that lies underneath, but he's denied you of that privilege. "brat's got such a tight fuckin' pussy," he grunts, impaling you hard onto his cock, stretching you out so good you can't stop yourself from trying to meet his thrusts. 

the moans that pour from you are endless, all you do is whimper his name, crying for him and it inflates his ego, but he can't have you being this loud. a hand clamps over your mouth, and you moan behind it, any touch from him is welcomed wholeheartedly. 

"quiet down girl," he grits, leaning in close while his thrusts grow harsher. "startin' to think you left your panties for me to find, bet you wanted me to get mad, jus' wanted some attention huh?" he moves his hand away from your mouth, instead using it to grip your face, squeezing your cheeks until your lips pucker. "speak," he orders. 

"n-no, no i just fo-forgot, promise," you swear, words feeling difficult to pronounce and even think of when he's got you stretched out on his cock like this, fucking you dumb. 

he doesn't believe you, his hands working around your throat soon after you squeak your response. "no?" he teases, his hands growing tighter around the pane of your neck. 

your wrists wiggle around the confinements of the belt, wishing you could hold the hands that have you cradled like a glove. 

"f'you just wanted my attention, or just wanted to get fucked," he rests on his haunches, pulling you with him, letting you slip down further onto his cock, the corners of his lips curling when you cry out. "then just fuckin' ask, don't need to be pullin' stunts like that," 

his hands around your throat feel loving, they feel safe, and perfectly fitted around you, like his hands were made for this. the lack of air feels right, feels like this is what you needed, and you want more. 

tears well at your pretty eyes, rolling down your cheeks while you grip at the buckle on his belt, his cock moving so deep inside that you feel him in the base of your tummy. 

he releases your throat, and you gasp for the air you didn't even realize was depleting. he pulls the belt loose, and you immediately go to his arms, running over them. squeezing at the muscles, feeling impressed with how they flex under your touch. 

your hands travel up to his face, his beard tickling your palms. "feels sososo good joel, never felt like this," you slur, eyes falling shut at the pleasure. "yeah? this all it took for you to fuckin' behave?" he groans, your hands running across his wide back, trying to feel him, feel the muscles that you've only ever gotten to steal glances at. 

he's letting you fall backward again, hovering close to your level, his cock filling you to the hilt, and then some, and you want to tell him how full you feel, how good it feels to have so much of him in you, but the words are lost on you, there are no thoughts left to be had, just pure physical manifestations of what he's doing to you. 

"kiss me, please?" you beg, and he doesn't argue, doesn't mock you or tease, but connects your lips, kissing you hard. you moan into his mouth, calf resting on his lower back while he pushes in and out of you. his beard brushes around your chin, your nails gently scratching at the back of his head, eliciting his turn to moan in your mouth. 

he kisses you like he fucks you, rough. it's rushed, messy, wet, but there's power in the way he does both, making you feel hazy, dizzy, and overfilled with rapture all at once. 

every push, and every shove into the couch is registered as soft, gentle caresses, loving affection, so graciously given to you by the rough hands belonging to joel and you take it all in stride, left wanting more, craving more roughness that just feels like love instead. 

his face falls to the warmth of your neck, nipping, biting down onto your shoulder when he buries himself further than you even knew possible, inside of you. your mouth parts, a string of whiny moans leaving past them when he grinds into you, bucking your hips to meet his. 

"finally bein' so obedient, should've just gave in an' did this sooner," he grunts into your skin, hands holding you down by your hips. his fingers find your clit, rubbing over the sensitive nerves just like how you did last night, and you choke on a moan, tangling your fingers in his salt and peppered hair. 

"so good, feels so good, thank you daddy," you cry like a prayer into his neck, and he sends an especially hard thrust into your cunt, knocking the air out of you. you feel frozen in horror when you realize what's just come out your mouth.

"that's real nasty y'know that right?" the sick curl in the corner of his mouth contradicts the shame he throws at you, and the way his cock twitches inside you acts as further proof that there's no truth in his mocking. 

you cover your face in his shoulder, but no, he wants you to look at him when he fucks you, he wants to see the way those pretty lips of yours mold around the word that rightfully belongs to him. 

"don't get shy now," he huffs, holding your jaw, head falling back when he feels you clench down around him. his hands fall back to where they belong, wrapped snug around your throat.

he watches the way your eyes roll back, bottom lip being sucked in while you try fucking yourself onto him. "dirty fuckin' girl," he grits, squeezing you while your fingers curl over his, intertwining with him. "s'all right, i can be your daddy," he grunts, pushing in and feeling you squeeze him when he lays his promises to you. 

you force your eyes open, gazing at him hazily while he pounds into you. he brings his hips down to yours relentlessly, no mercy in the way he fucks you. he's growing messy, falling out of tune when he slows down, shoving himself all the way in you, letting the sensation of the way you wrap around him be appreciated like it's supposed to be. 

"my fuckin' cunt, you hear me? repeat." he releases your throat, and you gasp, sputtering while you nod. "yes, s'all yours," you hiccup, watery eyes making out a blurry joel in front of you. he presses his hand to your lower stomach, groaning to himself when he can feel his own cock piston in and out of you. 

he lessens the speed in his thrusts, slowing to watch his cock fill you up. you squirm at the extra pressure, pawing at his wrists. "so much, it's so much daddy," you whine, and he grunts, feeling pride at the way he's got you so fucked out. "take it," is all he says, sounding gruff and strained. 

"can i cum please? promise m'gonna be so good for you daddy, gonna listen an' everything," you cry, wrapping your legs tighter around his hips, pulling him in deeper. he grits his teeth, chest getting tight at your pleads. 

"really think you deserve it?" he grunts and you nod, gripping onto his shoulders. "yes, please, i promise, promise m'gonna be good, please please," he concedes to your begging, bringing his fingers to your clit. 

you gasp, panting in all the air that'll fit in your lungs when it all hits you. your skin is tinged with heat, legs trembling on either side of joel's waist when you feel the tides start to ripple closer to you until it crashes, pulling you into the ocean and you're drowning. drowning in joel. 

"thank you daddy, thank you s'much, so good," you muffedly sob, face in the crook of his shoulder while he fucks you through your orgasm, fingers running over your clit, winding you up just to watch you fall apart. 

"fuck, squeezing me so hard," he laughs breathlessly, slipping into a heavy moan at the way you're clamping down on him. "so good baby, take what you need, that's my girl," he groans, holding your waist down, fucking you with a rushed need. the backs of your thighs rest over him, and you feel weak, but fulfilled, watching adoringly as he uses your body to cum. bursts of pleasure still erupting inside you at the way he fucks you. 

my girl

you whimper at the fleeting affections, unknowingly clenching harder around him.

"shit, shit, gonna fuckin' cum, gonna fill this pussy up, greedy little cunt can't get enough," he groans, head falling forward while his orgasm envelopes him, the slick from your mixed arousal loud while he gasps, grunting with a few harsh thrusts. he pushes into you with finality, cumming deep inside you. 

he slowly pulls out, and it stings, you're wincing, feeling bare and cold. 

he pulls your panties back over you, eyeing the way his cum pools against the material, and he feels good, feels like he's permanently marked you as his. he tucks himself back into his jeans, catching his breath before he turns his attention back to you. 

he dresses your limp body back into your overalls, his hands now ginger and gentle over your skin, touching you like you've suddenly become glass. he sits at the end of the couch, pulling you into his lap. 

he's careful when he sits you down, aware that your ass still probably hurts. he lets you curl into his side, the last bit of trembling slowly leaving your body from what just happened. his palm runs up and down your back, feeling content at the way you rest on his chest. "feel okay?" he asks quietly, and you hum a sleepy yes. 

your hand rests on his chest, toying with the buttons. "you've always been a sweet girl," he says, feeling like he needs to clarify that, and you smile against his chest, feeling relief and giddiness at his admittance. "a messy one but, sweet nonetheless," he pats your back and you shoot him a joking glare. 

he holds you closer by tucking his hand under your thighs, cradling you into him. he kisses your temple, the first gentle action of the day. he tells himself he'll indulge in that more when he sees the smile that spreads across your cheeks. 

[loneliestluvr]

𝑻𝒐 𝑴𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒔 𝑰 𝑾𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝑮𝒐, 𝒊𝒊.

i. ii. iii.

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x Archeron OC

Synopsis: Caught up in a world of hollow grief for her people, her life, and her father, Blair Archeron is forced into a life under the light she wants no part of after ghosting through immortality since being Made. But what she finds, is not what she expects.

Warnings: should have added this in the last one but talking/thinking about loss of pregnancy, being controlled + used, angst, lots of description but Blair gets her lick back a bit 😛 this is also a bit of a slow burn

Word Count: 2.8k

taryn thinks: so this is gonna be a series and im just kinda holding its hand and letting it guide me rn, i have no planned ending at all or any idea where this is going. bear with me pookies and remember how attracted Feyre was to Rhys without knowing he was her mate please and thank you 🙏🏼

“Eris,” Rhysand’s voice boomed in that firm High Lord tone he only ever used outside of the River House— Blair had only ever heard it once and not ever directed at her. It was that same day and argument Nesta had told Feyre about the threat to her life, to the babe’s life in her womb, when Rhys’ power had exploded and grew so loud and angry Blair had covered her ears and closed her eyes.

Eris. The name rung in her head as her brother-in-law spoke it and her mouth moved before she could think as she tested it silently on her own tongue. Eris.

The second eldest Archeron still hadn’t brought herself to tear her gaze from the male—Eris—before her, taking in every inch of his face. Every muscle ticking in his jaw. Eris’s eyes followed her mouth as she traced his name with her lips and then he finally looked away. As if he couldn’t handle looking another minute.

“This is Feyre’s second oldest sister, Blair.” Rhys continued, and something like panic lit his every word. “She is beautiful, isn’t she?”

But it was almost muffled— the sound of his voice, the music and chatter behind them. Blair’s hands still neatly folded in front of her as she stood there, like there was nothing else in that marble room but her and Eris.

“Divine.” The red haired male murmured and by the way Rhys’ brows shot up just slightly, Blair figured the male wasn’t ever one for so little words.

The sound of his voice washed through her, the heat of her skin only intensifying as it echoed through her ears. She could hear her blood thrumming through her with it, like just this nearness had her body boiling. A sense she couldn’t describe pulling to him.

“Likewise.” The word was out before she could control it, like her inhibitions overtook all.

What is it that you feel, bright one? A cold, unnatural, and otherworldly voice spoke in her head. The same as always when the smoke cleared. Feminine, if Blair could tell— speaking to her as she was sucked back out of her body and it swallowed whatever words were working up her throat. Pulled right back into that unintentional irreverence. You do feel it, I can tell. Pushing me back, for this? For him— for what lurks under?

“I’m sorry for my tardiness,” Blair said, voice vacant. It was some part of their plan, but Blair had been instructed to follow along. Some quiet tucked away part of her, far in the forest of her mind, began to piece information together.

Things she’d learned simply by sitting and listening, and nobody cared about talking in front of the mute immortal who would sooner die than participate in politics or anything relating to the fae realm.

At least that’s what she thought of herself, nobody would say it. Even if that’s what she knew they were thinking. Even if it wasn’t entirely true.

Blair listened, mindlessly and absently, but what else was she to do when she sat in the quiet of her own mind day after day under something else’s control?

She tilled the soil of her mind, planting and working and tending as she sat and listened. Took in every piece of information that seemed so little to whatever she had become after, tucking it away and into her pocket.

But she never participated, couldn’t seem to ever make her mouth move. Could only sit and look out the window as everyone moved around her.

“Nonsense, sister.” Feyre smiled lovingly, the image of a shining star with the way her barely there gown accentuated her growing belly. “You’ve come just in time.”

As if on cue, a soft melodic music that sounded like the forest’s calm embrace started playing. Forest’s that Feyre and her had frequented in the summers when the younger of them was just hitting maturity, welcoming and lovely. Soft and slow, serene. A moment of peace in a world of pain and anger.

Blair took another breath and turned her head to the dance floor, it was her again this time as she spoke so softly it was almost unheard, “I love this type of music.”

“You’d like to know, Eris, that Blair is of the same talent our dear sister Nesta possesses. One that you seem so keen on having her hand in marriage because of.” Feyre says, but Blair’s eyes remain glued to the floor of people dancing so slowly. Seamless in their waltzing, her body almost began moving by itself— fighting every muscle in her to stay present in conversation as she slowed back into her body.

A rage filling some now faraway part of her, screaming and clawing and fighting to push her back again.

But this moment, this day, had been the most lucid she had felt in over a year— like she was waking up and blinking the fog away. Blair could hear clearly, and think, she could see from her own eyes, she was herself then. She was her own.

The reveal of another Archeron sister was not something that Eris had anticipated for. Certainly not something he’d prepared for, he had never let himself become so raw in front of anyone, let alone those of the Night Court.

One look at her… one gaze into those amber flecked eyes and his entire mask had shattered. For a minute too long he had just… stared at her.

Blair. The name danced around in his head, he could see it scripted on pages with a light hand. Those delicate fingers dragging the quill into a mess of curls and lines, her beautiful name printed in his mind. Blair.

“I’m almost certain at this point only beauty comes of your family, if Nesta was that graceful on the floor I can only imagine any of her sisters being equally as talented.” He said without another second, gaze now fixed wholly on the High Lady of the Night Court despite the pounding of his heart in his ears.

“Nesta continues to be… occupied.” Feyre added, almost ignoring any of his ploying compliments and Eris didn’t miss the whites of Rhysand’s knuckles showing as he clutched the arms of his throne.

And it was true, the Illyrian brute that had swept away his hopeful bride had passed her to the aggravating shadowsinger. Eris would not get her back again, not tonight.

“Perhaps my sister Blair would like to join you in a dance or two?” Feyre said next, the question directed for the female next to him.

Something in his chest felt like it would cave in and Eris thought he could have been floating just being next to her. The soft brown of her hair that went almost to her waist, even with it half up in a mound on the back of her head.

Accentuating those beautiful features under the light, lips pronounced and eyes that guttered all the need for dominance from his soul. His mind screamed: Kneel, kneel before your queen and beg to touch her. To smell and taste and feel, to know.

“Blair?” Feyre’s voice rang through his ears again and Blair had seemed like she was so enamored by the music, by the need to be with it, she hadn’t heard the question her sister asked. Then her head turned back to the thrones on the dais.

“I’m sorry,” She said quickly, furrowing her brow slightly as she tuned back in. “—what was it?”

“Perhaps you would like to join Eris for a dance?” Feyre clarified again and she looked from her sister to him, nearly next to Eris and stared for a moment.

“It’d be my honor to dance with the son of a High Lord.” She said, a small smile blooming on her lips.

By the confusion that seemed to broadcast on the High Lord and Lady’s face, Eris figured that Blair Archeron had secrets of her own. That just maybe, like him, she was undermined and looked over in aspects she shouldn’t be.

Eris stepped closer and offered his arm almost mindlessly, eyes tracing every curve of this smart and quick creature’s face. And Blair took it as that song faded out and the crowd prepared for the next one, the cold of her fingers seeped through the fabric of his tunic sleeve. Icy and bitter despite the warmth that flourished on her cheeks, and she let Eris guide her to the floor.

Blair could breathe. She could feel the race of her pulse, however immortal, she could feel the air on her skin and the warmth beneath Eris’s sleeve as she touched him. It felt like her body was on fire— awake.

Eris Vanserra— High Lord of the Autumn Courts eldest son, she had remembered. It had been like a splash of warm water, it had felt good. Different.

Rhys and Feyre’s ramblings about him, about their trades and need to stand against his father. Their effort to sway him should war find Prythian again, Azriel’s updates as she sat in the living room. Absent.

But that fog had cleared, and here she was. Preparing to dance with him. And everything came back screaming.

It was quiet as they prepared for the song to begin, Nesta and Azriel on the other end of the marble floor.

And then the music began and Eris’s arm wrapped around Blair until his hand laid on the small of her back, fingers of one hand each entwined as they stared into each others eyes.

It wasn’t that Blair couldn’t think or feel it, but her body moved absently off of memory alone as the dance began. Graceful and smooth, gliding as Eris guided her through the movements.

Spinning and twirling and whirling, she could only look at him as they moved. They did not speak, just danced and eyed each other.

Something charged went through the air between them, the close proximity of their bodies, and Blair wanted to know it as equally as Eris. Wanted to welcome it.

He smelled of spruce and warm honey, mahogany and citrus, flames and burning coals. Blair swallowed it down, drank it in and almost closed her eyes from how strong it was.

The pads of his fingers were rough, felt scarred as they held the small of her back and her own soft fingers. The freckles on his skin were similar to hers but brighter, a hue of ginger rather than her umber shaded spots.

And where he touched, across her waist and now one of her hips, burned.

The feeling like a fire, warm and welcoming and home, spilling into her veins like hot oil. And then Eris was dipping her, their faces a mere inch apart and Blair’s lips parted in a breathy gasp.

His eyes watching those perfect lips, trained on them as they stood like that. Dipped over and under one another, Blair’s leg hooked over his hip like she would fall.

But something in those pointed eyes, cunning and lethal, told her he would never let her go.

“Where have they kept you?” Eris asked finally, and brought her back up to a stand as they began again.

“A female is nothing to be kept.” Blair responded as easily as their dancing continued. Reminding herself of the proper terms fae used. “I have heard of how backwards Autumn can be, though. Perhaps that is your way of thinking?”

“You were not there for the war.” It was not the statement he made it, a rephrase of his first question. And he did not scold her for the jab she shouldn’t have made, supposed to be swaying and wooing but instead bit at him like a ravenous dog. “Nobody talked of a fourth sister.”

“I hadn’t realized I owed my life to the Court’s of Prythian or it’s people.” His hands left her body and trailed to the tips of her fingers as she spun out and when she returned his hold was firmer but he smiled, wicked and beautiful. “What?”

That look in his eyes, she couldn’t place it. And her voice held more venom than she intended, despite how soft and sweet it may have sounded aloud.

“You intrigue me, Blair Archeron.” He said and pushed her out again, her dress spinning out at the bottom as she twirled and came back to him. Pressed against his chest, one hand on the back of his neck and he might have shivered. “Trust the most beautiful of your sisters to be the smartest.”

“We’ve shared mere words, what are you basing my intelligence off of?”

“A feeling.”

“A feeling?” She repeated. He nodded and then she was keenly aware of where his hands were, trailing to the base of her own neck— close enough to be courting. More than that.

“Tell me,” Eris started, beginning a box step procedural that she followed. “—have they tucked you away out of fear of what you could become, or fear of what they could lose?”

“Who’s to say I’m not the one who chooses to stay away?” Eris’s eyes glittered with a need to know, like he wanted into her mind to see all of that intrinsic astuteness shrouded by firs and spruce. “Who’s to say I wanted to be a part of this life at all?”

“I offered to give them armies in exchange for your sisters hand and they bring you in.” He states as the song comes to an end and another starts. A rapid tempo, fast and harsh. Mostly string instruments, dramatic. “Why?”

“I was late,” Blair corrects, one hand holding the back of his neck as the other is gripped in his. Larger, muscled, and firmer than Blair’s delicate, soft, and teasing hand. “—you must be a terrible listener.”

Amusement lit Eris’s eyes as he held an arm around her waist, fingers brushing her ribs.

“Did they keep you away because of your mouth, then?” He crooned, their bodies moving seamlessly to the upbeat music. Stepping and spinning all at once, matched with the other pairs of dancers on the floor.

“What of my mouth?”

“What of it, indeed.” He smiled, eyes flicking to the rich ridges of her garnet colored lips. Blair’s cheeks heated and for the first time her eyes flicked away from his face. Anywhere but him as they landed on Azriel and she almost breathed in relief when she found that his eyes were already on hers.

A silent question in them and Blair blinked softly in response.

“Would you believe me if I said the second I saw you, I forgot about Nesta completely?” Eris whispered into her ear, lips brushing against the hair that curled there. So close she could feel the heat of his breath, like a flame licking her skin.

She cursed the part of her that wanted to feel that heat in other places and shoved it down. She looked back to Eris, noses nearly touching with the proximity this dance required.

“And what if I am already spoken for?”

Questions, so many questions with him. And Blair just fed them back as if the answers were in the questions themselves, a proper response unneeded.

“Are you?” His brows raised.

“No.”

It was simple, nothing further needed and she didn’t understand why she cared to tell a male she had met mere minutes ago that she was available. The first other than Rhys, Lucien, Azriel, Cassian and the blonde male she had set her eyes on since coming here. Since being forced here.

“They must do it to you all then.” Eris said, smile fading into a tighter one as he saw that look in Blair’s eyes. “Dwindle your flame, drown it out, waste you.”

“My sister and her mate have been gracious to me in my… adjustment. I have nothing to complain about, and certainly nothing to waste.”

Eris shook his head so barely as they spun Blair almost didn’t catch it, disbelief in every beautiful crook of his utterly handsome face.

“All of you is wasted, my dear Blair. They are blind if they cannot see what lives inside of you, your fire, whatever that power is and whatever you are now.”

Perhaps it was because Blair didn’t even know what was inside of her, why her chest warmed on its own for the first time in over a year just now, but she didn’t say another word.

When the music ended, she bowed before Eris as any graceful courtier would— a dismissal on her part before she stepped back and allowed for him to bow in return.

But he did not, and only stared at her as if he couldn’t—wouldn’t—bring himself to say goodbye. We are not done playing, Blair Archeron, was what his eyes added as Azriel swept her from the floor and the room all together.

His eyes followed her the whole way and that cold returned as soon as she left his line of sight.

🏷️: @prythianpages @impossibelle @readychilledwine

[qsmpconfessions]

qWilbur is an absent parent anon here o/ I just wanted to add two things. One being that I didnt mean that as Wilbur neg (cc or qWilbur) but I guess it technically is?? Second the reason im not sure its neg is cause im not mad that qWilbur is an absent dad. Like I dont think that makes him a bad person, character, or father even!! I dont think an absent parent always means to hurt their kid nor dose it mean they love them any less HOWEVER just because you dont mean to hurt someone dosnt mean you didnt hurt them! And its not up to you how they feel about something. I think its a lot more gray then just "Oh qWilbur's a bad father cause hes not there for Tallulah" because he really has no choice in the matter both in lore and in real life (cause in lore I guess his band funds the Feds, and well mans cant play minecraft 24/7 AND be a famous music guy. One at a time unfortunately) What I meant originally tho is that I just find it odd that everyone (again including ccWilbur) refuses or just dosnt want it to be canon that hes absent but like...he cant make Talullah just be okay with it and he cant just make it canon that we wasnt gone for months on end and like he seems to have this idea that that would make him a "bum" or like an asshole or something. I dont get why not make it a part of his character? I mean Tallulah clearly has! I dont get the aversion to a clear character arch or an internal struggle for him inside of the roleplay! I mean maybe because its forced on him and he wants to make his own character choices and not have it be affected by his lack of availability IRL but like...sorry buddy thats not how this server works! Its not a video game you can pause, Tallulah isnt a NPC virtual egg. Shes played by an admin who isnt going to wait for Wilbur to come back just to be able to tell her own story. I DONT KNOW MAN like if he really dosnt want to play an absent father, if he really dosnt want to roleplay that and have that just be something in the narrative he confronts and overcomes in some way with her then like...can he at least DM her or something and get it sorted cause its just odd to have him not want it but have her actively playing it up. ITS JUST SUCH A BIG CONTRADICTION! So I guess its kinda neg but like if it was just canon IT WOULDNT BE NEG CAUSE ID LIKE IT HONESTLY!

-

[chocottang]

(looks at the time, midnight) perfect time for posting!

silly little animatic for a silly little au i will yap about under the cut. but basically, the shadows are humans, and gold is the illegitimate son of mr. golden, so he has to deal with lots of shit. also i KNOW the audio is not synced but IM NOT editing that again. i refuse

ok i will probably not make an actual comic or anything for the au so ill just tell you all about it rn even though im eepy and thus will probably forget things. also i didnt read through All Of That a second time so im sorry if theres mistakes or incomprenhensible sentences

uhhh the idea came to me bc i wanted to make human versions of shadows, but i thought itd be boring if all the shadows were just twins of their human with the exact same trauma. dont get me wrong its very interesting to see two characters deal with the same issues very differently but when its ALL of the pairs it can get boring (to ME, this is just my own feelings). so i went hey, famous people seem to never stop cheating, what if we did that instead? and boom gold illegitimate son was born. also when i say mr. golden i dont mean golden's dad, i mean golden and joy's grandpa. I KNOW. GROSS. thats kinda the point. it also wasn't like, a one night stand that went wrong, this man had a whole ass second family. technically not cheating though bc his wife was already dead, but still not good.

so. gold was just living his silly little normal life with his mom and semi-absent father (they would say he was just very busy with work and travelled abroad and all that, which is the exact same excuse he'd give golden when he want visit gold)(also gold's mom was very much aware of the whole thing from the start) when suddenly him and his mom got into a car accident. gold got scars and a broken arm, while his mom took most of the blow. her upper body was mostly okay bc gold was able to see the car coming from her side and instinctively pulled his mom away, but he could only move her upper body to the side, and her lower back and legs took the blow. so, with his mom hospitalized, the authorities obviously asked him to call his dad to come over. so he did, and mr. golden showed up. and obviously the news immediatly caught on to this and made it a scandal. the local rich old guy with a company that has always had a brand of helping society with their innovations turned out to have a second family, and a son who is around his grandchildren's age. how could u NOT report that. anyways, gold's mom needs to be hospitalized for AT LEAST a couple of months, so gold moves in with his dad. and of course, has to face his dad's "official" family.

now, gold had known that he was "illegitimate" for a while now. it was kind of impossible to ignore with golden's popularity. but he had never really processed it fully, it was sort of an unspoken thing that everyone in the household was aware everyone else knew, but no one wanted to mention it. as if by doing so it would suddenly become real and break the illusion of their "perfect" little family. but now he has to deal with the hard truth (and new trauma due to the car crash! yay!). he decides to try and "compensate" the heavy blow that his dad's reputation took for his, uh, existance, and decided to start helping around the company. he immediatly starts taking way too much work, because he feels guilty and wants to feel validated by his dad, to feel like he's also his "real" family, that he deserves to be called his son. and also because he never got that much attention from him anyways. he's now deathly afraid of losing his family, after almost losing his mom, so he tries his absolute best to be everything his dad wants and do everything he says. he was always kind of a pushover, because his dad was always emotionally distant and bareley showed up, but he had his mom around to compensate, but now that he feels he could lose her at any moment, that flaw skyrocketed in intensity.

that attitude also translates with the rest of the family, especially the cousins: golden, joy and jay. golden DOES NOT trust gold. he's convinced that gold started working in the company because he only wants the money, or the fame, or maybe the whole company (since gold would technically be before golden in the heritage, itd be much easier). but that's mostly his own trauma regarding feeling used for money by almost everyone he loves acting up. golden also dislikes gold bc he reminds him of the things he hates about himself, bending over backwards just to get affection from the old fart. soo yeah golden has issues and gold kind of embodies all of them (like a shadow. get it. haha.)

joy tries VERY hard to be nice to gold and seem accepting and like she's okay with all of this but she has very conflicting feelings. she always kind of idealized her grandpa, so knowing that he actually sucks is kind of driving her crazy (she is unaware of how much golden is fucked up bc honestly shes got fucked up in similar ways, having to appeal to her parents for affection and working her ass off as a maid basically, so it just seems normal). also, she feels iffy about gold, she doesn't distrust him like golden, she truly believes gold is just a normal kid, but she's VERY frustrated about the fact that he started working for the company just like that. she always wanted to work alongside her grandpa, she thought the company's ideals were lovely, but she was always shut off because she's a girl. so she explored her passion for music, which was encouraged, but only as a hobby, while golden got to make a succesful career out of it with the help of the family. and now this random kid who had never had ANYTHING to do with the company is working for it and being taught everything she wanted to know. it's completely unfair and it makes her seethe. but she knows its not gold's fault, and she keeps excusing her family, so she just hides it and hides it and tries to pretend she's okay with all of this.

jay is the only person who seems to be ok with gold. she loves attention and she hates being bored, so a sudden family scandal that gives them tons of media attention and makes all of her posts blow up is literally perfect for her. and it's all thanks to gold! she doesn't find him especially interesting as a person, but everything surrounding him is. and hes a total pushover! so she gets to make him carry her stuff, do things for her and crack jokes at his expense all she wants. she also just finds is funny that he's technically her uncle. gold knows that she's taking advantage of him, but he doesn't mind that much, because she at least doesnt hate him like golden and joy seem to do. and sometimes she's not an asshole, sometimes she genuinly enjoys his presence. let's just say that the bar is in hell

also. if i did things right u will probably tell that gold is fat, especially in comparison to the cousins. and thaaats because the golden family is actually naturally fat, but grandpa encouraged them to be thin to "protect them from the media". golden and jay have quite unhealthy habits, while joy just eats healthy and exercises, which is why she's not stick thin. since gold was never meant to be in the public eye he was allowed to just exist so hes a normal kid who doesnt give a fuck. other design notes, the broken arm and scars represents gold's face markings and completely black hand. and i gave him glasses because everyone gives him glasses and i think thats awesome

also uhh he becomes friends with the villains (who are the student council)nbecause owynn wants to get that golden family clout. gold joins the council as an assistant because hey! being useful! he's good at that and it may earn him a friendship. there he meets cami and they immediately recognize that they're similar. always doing what someone asks, always so serious, always calm and efficient, working towards their goal, never taking up space. soo they spends more time together (also bc gold is her assistant) and start leaning on each other. they become close. they also like that they're so blunt with everyone and each other, it makes conversation easier for them. and also they have a crush on each other because of course they do im PREDICTABLE.

uhhh idk if i have anything left to say if u read all of that hi. i love you

[bbytmvastro]

Lilith conjunct ascendant “observation”🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛

(this is my first ever observation, I got the information from my own experience and my own research trough all of social media)

🎞-I’ve definitely noticed that women with lilith conjunct the ascendant mostly get very sexualized roles, even as a kid.

For example: Natalie Portman, her role in The professional was way too sexualized for her age.

🕸- Look I don’t know if im the only one, but as someone who has lilith conjunction her ascendant, I ALWAYS spot a person in the room with the same placement. Kinda creepy.

👣- You should definitely look at the sign your lilith is in for this, but I do feel like this placement always adds darker hair, darker eyes etc... and the people I know with this always look paler than the rest of their family.

💋- They can have a dramatic way of reacting with their facial expressions, you WILL see how they feel by just looking at them.

👀- So most of us know that this placement makes other women jealous of them, but I’ve noticed that if they do, they never show it. They will all most likely talk behind their back bc they know that the lilith ascendant person won’t take their bs. Especially if lilith is in the 12th house here. It might be more upfront with lilith in the 1st house.

👯‍♀️- This one honestly speaks for any strong Lilith/Asc Person. I feel so sorry for how much they get sexualized by anything they do, they could be doing the most normal shit and they would still hear sexual comments.

🦊- Could have an absent(could be emotionally too) or abusive father.

🐾-Definitely do things just to see people’s reaction.

🌚-Don’t start talking about feminism with a lilith conjunct ascendant woman.She will end you.

My first “observation” don’t even know if anyone is gonna see this LMAO

[sirthisisa-wendys]

Dear wendy, im sorry for being a whore but 👁👄👁 … I kinda want a smut where reader is a milf a mom of geto’s friend… a lot sexual tension would be great 😳

YES AND — my mind instantly said “hey this is how that will play out” and LOW KEY I’ve been waiting for this moment because I, too, am I whore.

Milk and Cookies: Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

WC: 1.9k

Tw: NSFW (Lactation kink, unprotected sex)

The chimes and tinkles of the doorbell make you look up from the dirty dishes in the sink, and you pad over to the wooden door, peeking through the peephole.

Your son's friend, Geto Suguru, stands in the entryway, holding a bag as he pushes his hair back over his shoulder, and you instantly open the door for him. God, if he was as old as you, you'd have him snatched up and pinned to a bed. "Hello, Suguru! Just so you know, Kai won't be back for another hour or so. He and his grandfather were caught in traffic on the way back from fishing," you tell the man, and he smiles at you brightly. Your legs want to go weak, but you keep your composure and smile back at the twenty-two-year-old.

"No worries, Mrs. L/n. I'll just wait here until they get back. Do you mind?"

"Not at all," you reassure him and walk past the door to let him in. "The baby is with his grandma, so make yourself comfortable in the living room. Let me know if you want anything to eat." Geto nods at you, then opens the bag he brought.

"I brought some cookies that my mother made for you. She said after having a baby, these really help with your... uh... hormones, I think." You examine the offering when he passes it to you, and take one out of the little box. The oats and dark chocolate pieces melt in your mouth, and you hum in delight.

"These are delicious, Suguru. Tell your mother I said thank you. Did you help her make these?" The grown man shuffles about for a second, then admits his involvement. "You're incredibly sweet," you mention, and a blush creeps up his neck. "You both did a very good job." He looks up at you, dumbfounded, then smirks.

"Wasn't too hard to follow directions. Plus, I love baking. Would love to help you bake sometimes if you'll let me."

"Just let me know when and what you want to bake," you reassure him and he nods, taking a seat on the couch.

When you finish the cookie, you turn back to the dishes and begin to wash them as the TV flicks on in the living room. You're lost in thought about the kindness of Suguru and his mother when you feel the sharp stabbing sensation of a knife poke you in your hand.

"Ah!" When you bring your hand out of the water, you see that the knife sliced the palm of your hand a little, red blood forming along the cut.

"Mrs. L/n, I'll help." Suguru appears out of nowhere and reaches above the microwave to grab the first aid kit from a cabinet. While he does that, you run the palm under water, hissing as it stings but then drying it on a paper towel. Suguru takes a bandaid and places it over your cut hand, then wraps gauze over it. "You should be more careful," he chastises, and you hum in response. "Would hate to see a pretty hand like yours get infected. I'll finish the dishes for you; just sit on the couch and relax." You begin to protest, but Suguru silences you with a five to your lips, pulls you toward the living room, and sits you on a recliner before he leaves to go finish the dishes.

The TV is tuned to HGTV, and you watch Chip and Joanna renovate homes while the man finishes, glancing over at him every so often to see if he's having any trouble. But he looks as studious as ever, hair dangling over his shoulder as he finishes his task. Well, your task, actually.

When Suguru's done, he joins you in the living room, sitting in the closest seat to your recliner. "Tell me about your weekend," he begins, his black eyes staring at your face. You eye your velour tracksuit with disdain, noting that you hadn't even had a chance to get out since the baby was born a month ago and the father had been absent for much longer than that.

"Oh, just cleaning and making the house neat. You?"

"That's all you've done? What about getting a babysitter to watch Kaneda while you go out and have some fun?"

"Um..." How could you explain to the man that you don't have any friends to go out with? "Well, that would be nice."

"I'll ask my friend Shoko if she'll come by. She loves kids." He pulls out his phone and begins to type out a message, then focuses back on you when he's done. "Any news from Mr. L/n?"

"No," you answer quickly. "He's sent his monthly allowance for me and Kai, but that's it."

"Has he seen Kaneda at all?"

"No." Geto lapses into silence, eyes looking down at the carpet.

"I normally don't speak on matters that don't concern me, but fuck him," he mutters, and you look up in shock. "If I had a wife like you, I'd take you out, show you off, make you happy, and keep you satisfied. I'd never--" Suguru clenches his jaw when you touch his hand, a small smile on your face.

"You're too kind. Things between Mr. L/n and I have been rough, but I'm sure he'll come around soon."

Suguru shakes his head, then shifts out of your grip. "I would treat you better," he murmurs, then looks over at you. You swear the flutter in your chest isn't from any feelings and just because of his pity. But when he gets up and cradles your face like a lover would, you break. Tears fall from your eyes rapidly, and he brushes them away with the pads of his thumbs, cooing at you like you're a child.

"You deserve better. Say it."

"I..." But do you? You heard rumors about Kai's mom and how she was abandoned in the same way. Was this your fate, too?

"Say it. Maybe then you'll believe it."

"I deserve... better."

"Good girl." The fluttering feeling returns and your lips part as you inhale sharply. "Now, will you let me give you something better?" You nod immediately, feeling something pool between your legs. When you realize it's heat, you're shocked, but Suguru leans in to kiss you, smoothing the shock away.

"Suguru," you murmur. "We shouldn't--"

"How long has it been since your husband touched you?" You fumble for the time, knowing it hadn't been for over eight months.

"Um... that's--"

"A long time, hmm?" Suguru's eyes roam over your figure. "Then let me satisfy you, just once. If you don't like it, we can stop and I'll never touch you again, I promise."

"Suguru, I--"

"What harm will it do? If you like it, I'll make sure I come by often enough to have you seeing stars once a week. We'll never speak of it again if you don't want to do it anymore."

The deal is a good one, you think. "Well, maybe just this once."

"That's all I need." He unzips your jacket and frees your swollen breasts, rubbing them tenderly and kissing each one with a peck. "First things first, you need some relief from all of this build-up." When he latches his mouth onto your right nipple, you moan loud enough to overshadow the sound of the TV, and you feel milk flowing from your breasts rapidly. Suguru hums, drinking from you greedily, a small river of milk flowing from the corner of his mouth. You feel a tingling sensation, then exhale deeply, closing your eyes as he massages the other breast slowly.

"Oh, that feels good," you whisper and he unlatches from your right breast to your left one, fitting himself onto the nipple perfectly. You hiss in pain for a few seconds until his tongue swirls over the nipple easily. A sudden realization that this is wrong washes over you, but Suguru is tightly latched onto the bud, suckling eagerly. "Suguru..." you whisper, and he opens his eyes, but doesn't stop. "Suguru, this is wrong. You're my stepson's best friend and I--"

"This isn't about him. This is about you," he mutters, swallowing the last bit of milk before he removes his shirt. "Besides, you taste so delicious. I'm sure the rest of you tastes even better." As he removes your track pants, you bite your lip, wanting this so desperately. He spreads your legs and dips a finger into you, stroking your insides gently. "Oh, you're ready."

"Please fuck me," you whisper. "Just do it." Suguru removes his pants and palms himself, his cock rock-hard and standing at attention. The red tip is already dripping with pre-cum, ready for you to take in. He pants a little, lifting you off the recliner and moving you to the couch, where he lays you on the comfortable fabric before parting your legs again.

He runs the tip up and down your slit before sliding into you, his tip caressing long-neglected parts of you. "Su," you whine, and he kisses your cheek.

"Tell me if it hurts, baby." You clutch onto him as he pushes into you again, digging your nails into his back and moaning. "You're so damn tight."

"Feels so good..." You feel the sensation of being stretched to the brim, and wonder where in the hell Sugurus been all of your life. When he picks up his speed, he clutches onto your asscheeks and shifts you up so your knees are touching your chest. As he holds them against your breasts, they begin to leak and stain the fabric beneath them. You gasp and pant wantonly, hoping the sounds out spur him to go faster, go deeper; maybe if you allowed him to--

"Turn over for me." You obey, and he slides two fingers between your pussy lips, bending down to whisper in your ear. "Gonna make you cum in a minute. God, I've waited for this pussy for so long," he moans. "Such a good girl; waiting for months to get fucked. So patient." You whimper, and he removed his fingers, replacing them with his cock head. He slides into you again, and you exclaim, bucking your hips up to meet his. "Such a beautiful pussy, too," he grunts, smacking your ass with a heavy hand.

Then Suguru begins pounding into you wildly, rocking you back and forth on the couch without restraint. You hiss before you feel the familiar build-up of an orgasm, and call Geto's name out before you begin to shake, losing all sense of time and place.

"That's it, baby. Cum for me," Suguru breathes. "You're doing amazing."

"Oh my god," you gasp, cunt clenching around his dick. "I can't--" Another orgasm builds on top of the one you already experienced, and you grip onto the fabric tightly, shaking as you cum again. "S-Suguru, I--"

"Fuck," he whispers in your ear. "Gonna cum too. Where do you want it?"

"Wherever," you pant, and he instantly lets himself go inside of you, groaning loudly.

"God, Mrs. L/n, that was amazing," he whispers, chest heaving up and down. "What'd you think?" When he realizes that he has to remove your hands from the fabric, he chuckles. "You liked it." You nod, feeling his cum leaking out of you. "Let me clean you up, sweetheart." You expect him to go to the bathroom and search for a washcloth, but he pulls your hips up and back, so your knees are on the carpet.

It's only then that he begins to lick you clean, slurping up his cum and your juices. When he's done licking you clean, he pats your ass and you turn over, eyeing the man cautiously.

"I'll come over next week if you want me to. I'll make sure you're satisfied for the rest of your life."

[obxjj]

high above | jj maybank

summary: jj maybank praying to someone higher than him, hoping to receive a sign about a girl he likes

warnings: mentions of religion, kinda fluffy and kinda fucking sad too might i add

inspo: i kinda just got this idea of jj believing in someone higher than him but from the influence from his absent mother, this also being a way he connects to her every so often. i also apologise, i'm not at all religious and i also didn't want to say a specific religion so i tried to generalise it for everyone. if anyone has a problem with this pls let me know!! i don't want to offend anyone

wc: 850

Many people wouldn't think that JJ Maybank would be one to believe in something bigger than him, let alone something religious. It was never something he ever shared with anyone except his mother, it was the only thing he had that he felt closer to her.

His mother would always say a little prayer for jj when he was younger, it would ease her anxiousness about him getting into fights or in hopes that her abusive husband, jj’s father wouldn't hurt either of them. But we all know how that turned out. 

JJ was currently situated on the hammock outside the chateau, it was deep into the night, stars shining and a cold brisk wind was in the air. Many things had been running around in his head that he felt like his brain was going to explode, he never liked talking to the other pogues about it because he knew that they wouldn't understand. So his best other option was to do what his mother always suggested, talk to the man that would keep his secrets safe and help him ease his mind. 

“Hey, eh well…uhm... it's me again”, He lent over the side of the hammock so he was in sitting position and put his hands together in the formation that he thought would be best. 

“We haven't spoken in awhile. Well it's probably been more than awhile, i think the last time is when mom left…. I hope she's doing alright… I uh… I haven't really spoken to her after she left.” JJ��s jaw slightly locked and his eyes started to water, he hadn't talked about his mother for what seemed like a lifetime.

“Well i just wanted to talk about some things… about a girl” he hands started to sweat and get clammy, something that would happen when he was nervous. 

“Uhh.. this is so stupid” he paused and muttered to himself, his head falling down but his hands still staying in place. He kept quiet collecting his thoughts and deciding if he really wanted to put this out into the universe. He swallowed hard and closed his eyes before straightening his head back up again so he could focus. 

“I hate asking for favours from others… but I really need some help here… i know i haven't been on my best behavior lately and mom wouldn't be too happy… but, I uh” he let out a shaky laugh.

Was he really going to say this?

“Well there's this uh… girl I like” he swallowed again. 

“Like i really like this one and… and i know mom would have liked her too” he licked his lips and let out a small sigh. 

“You probably already know that aye? I mean like you see everyone shit… wait sorry mom always said i can't curse when i talk to you” he paused and bit his lip, thinking about the many times he dropped a few words and his mom said that he would get nothing in return. He loosened the grip of his hands and played with the ring on his finger before putting his hands back together.

“Anyway.. . well i just really like her, but i think i'm going to mess it all up. I just can't afford to lose her, she's different, you know, she's not like the other girls.”

His gaze looked up to over the water and the boat doc that was in front of the chateau. The water was moving in a calm motion, this always made him feel at peace. He signed and shook his head bringing back his focus on what he was doing. 

“I just really never know what to say to her because i don't want to mess my chances up, she's the closest thing i have had to peace and someone im willing to share my emotions with… but im just scared im going to end up pushing her away” he sighed. 

“We have had a few arguments over stupid things… I hate arguing with her even if it's over something small.” They were now running through his mind, like one time when they were on the boat and he looked at Kiara’s ass for a bit too long and she got upset. 

“But I guess that's just how she is… and I don't mind it. I honestly think it's cute when she gets a bit jealous.” he laughed at the thought of that

“I just felt like i needed to get this off my chest… none of the other guys would really understand… Mom always said to talk to you when there was a lot going on. That's what she did.” He ran his hands through his hair and then put his hands back together. 

“I think i'm done now, sorry if i bothered you. His gaze went up again. His brows narrowed in confusion,  “ehm...Amen? I think...”

Just as he was about to get up he thought of something else he wanted to add. “Oh… and uhm… can you please get Rafe Camerons bike to break or somethin. Thanks.”

[kkodzvken]

im glad to have a partner in Hawks brain rot, I literally love him so much and I'd give him the absolute fucking world 😭❤

I was listening to this song whilst doing homework and I cried....then wrote this out...

love like you - Caleb Hyles

now I know this song is from the Steven Universe soundtrack (kinda getting back into my su phase) but when its covered by this guy it reminds me of keigo more. The way kei grew up with an in and out of jail/absent father and how his mother didn't really show him that much compassion, made him not understand real love. (which i can relate very well with) From then being brought in by the commission, and being told to hide certain things about yourself and cover up some of your tendencies, and just being brought up his whole life that way was probably hard. I feel like this song would be hawks singing to his s/o (me obviously 🙄✋ jk jk) anyways~ I just believe kei would love his s/o so much and want to "love like you" he sees how loving, caring and loyal we are to others and he wants to be like that too but he just has a hard time expressing it sometimes. of course we know he's doing his best and we know what he's gone through, so thats why we give him so much love and we're understanding. yes he is a hero, so he cares about people obviously and understands compassion, its just that his expression of it takes time for him...

"I just adore you, I wish I knew what makes you think im so special" like he knows we love him but he doesn't understand why yknow? poor baby just needs all the love and he just wants you to know that he's doing his best to give it back (sorry this is just my little babble, and made me think of him I had while listening to this song for 2 hours straight) *sobs*

- 🌞 anon

OH NO IM CRYINGKAJFNR i just want to wrap him up in blankets and give him so much love :(( poor baby has been through so much it breaks my heart just thinking about it, the recent hawks backstory chapter fucking Destroyed me

(cut bc i rambled quite a bit JSHFND)

i love thinking about keigo singing, i feel like since he has trouble expressing his emotions he tends to write them out as songs and share his feelings in that way (which like, mood...speaking of songs i have written like 5 different ones about kei JSHFNSKS). but imagine walking out after having a fight with him, you get a text from him and you want to ignore it but you see it’s an audio message :( and when you click it’s him singing love like you :(

it breaks my heart thinking about him putting on a mask everyday, pretending to be his cocky lazy ass to hide how broken he feels inside :( don’t get me wrong i love cocky bastard keigo w my whole heart but GOD when i think about his insecurities and his abusive past it just destroys me

it would take him so long to get comfortable with an s/o, angel hasn’t seen a healthy relationship in his whole life and has closed his heart off for so long ...i just wanna make him realize how amazing and loved he is, and show him that it’s okay to be vulnerable UGH now the gears in my brain are turning i’m gonna write a drabble JSBFNDN

wow i rambled for a whileeee djfjfj but i hope ur doing okay baby!! and that your day has been good!! i got so excited when i open tumblr and see an ask from you i love talking to you </33 my partner in hawks brainrot !! talk to u soon angel!!

[fromlilys]

hahaha hiiii guyssss.... i know i am extremely late but! i’ve been sick and working and using the free time to sleep and recover but now i am around so! i’m vee and you can always find me on discord ( even thought i take forever to reply... im sorry UERUFHR ) but this is lily & at the end you have some random wanted connections ! im / message me on discord for plotting & all of the things... again i am sorry for the super delay!!!

*  ◜  jennie  kim  ,  cis  woman  &  she/her  ◞  *  according  to  school  records  ,  that’s  lily  chung  walking  on  campus  grounds  with  their  usual  vanilla  sweet  cream  cold  brew  from  the  ancient  grounds  cafe  .  they’re  known  for  her  ever  present  pout  and  judgemental  eyes,  long  dark  hair  and  light  step  and  are  often  spotted  at  the  secret  garden  reading  their  favorite  piece  of  literature  .  almost  everyone  knows  their  family  is  worth  like  9.4  billion  dollars  ,  so  we  suspect  they’re  a  member  of  labyrinth  ,  you  know  ,  new  money  .  do  you  know  where  they  were  the  night  that  the  scholarship  student  died  ?  they  claim  they  were  at  a  cocktail  party  for  the  launch  of  her  newest  app  ,  must  be  a  computer  sicence  thing  ,  right  .  and  hey  ,  don’t  you  agree  that  the  junior  reminds  you  of  loud  heels  on  wooden  floor,  sleepless  nights  in  rooftops,  chewing  on  your  lies  until  they  become  real  ?  you  better  watch  out  nemesis  before  something  dangerous  happens  to  you  and  life  ends  at  twenty-three  .

                                  ♡          lily chung, 23, libra.

bio / stats / facts / pinterest (honestly her bio is almost 3k so… i am sorry if you read that, and thank u if u do, there are a lot of typos probably)

first things first lilifer is a libra and she is a messy one, born in la, moved back to south korea when she was like eight i THIIIINK

comes from old money from he mother’s part, they own great part of the pharmaceutical business in south korea, and are part of a holding ( worth around 3B ), they kinda don’t associate much with her once she didn’t marry rich, but still she has her won share of the money

her father only hit it big, REAL BIG, in 2014, since he founded you know… the Kakao Corp, as in the biggest internet sevice in south korea and is expanding

despite all odds, absent parents, being ridiculously rich, and also being the only girl after two boys, she was not raised to be a spoiled little brat

she’s a little bratty alright but……….she is too stubborn for that, she’s legit a little shit

so okay, when she was uhhh eight right, she was in love love with ballet and she was a little sad because she had to move to sk and then this girl stole her spot in the dance and then…she pushed her out of the way and she broke her leg and she got the part :)

but then her mother….made her suffer the consequences and then this is how everything went downhill from there. her mother truly hates her and she gave up on her dream of becoming a ballerina just to spite her

everything was well until she found out her mother was cheating on her father with on of her brother’s friends, and she saw them and…. lily really savored that moment of power over her mother and still uses that to blackmail her into giving her things

found out her dad went to clemonte, didn’t get into the society because he didn’t have money, and now that she has she decided that payback is a bitch and her name is lily chung 

she’s  Handful

i swear it all makes sense okay.... this is a mess 

                                              ♡   𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀 & 𝐕𝐈𝐁𝐄

lily is someone who people feel drawn to, someone who’s always there, but also someone distant and mysterious – who has a hidden part and who also has different… versions of herself?

she’s someone that is hard to grasp, hard to open up and she can be really caustic at times, buuuut she is chill sometimes i promise

okay so she is really possessive of what she has because. she loves that attention but then she doesn’t do the same because she really sucks

really smart, hacks things for fun tbh

lily is very needy, but she won’t show. she holds grudges easily, but for the Comfort of it all, won’t be confrontational about it.

actually probably the least confrontational person you’ll know but bet she’ll fuck up your life lowkey and u won’t ever see it coming

has them affairs here and there and everywhere but keep ‘em with discretion

has the mommy issues, and a little daddy issues – her brothers are the only family she truly considers hers

even tho she loves her dad

                                                 ♡   𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

plsss i put out a request for her brother so if you’d like!!! chung siblings are the worst ever

also childhood friends

frenemies and enemies

someone who wants lily to hack on someone else’s things and lily is like gimme that cash to keep it shut

a lot of fwb

[dirtyahs]

What Are We? (Tate Langdon x Reader)

HELLO IM BACK JESUS CHRIST IM SORRY IVE BEEN SO ABSENT LIFE IS KIND OF KICKING MY ASS BUT IM DOING MY BEST!! I LOVE ALL OF U FOR BEING SO KIND AND PATIENT <3

This was requested by my pal @stellaholland i luv u so much bby i hope u enjoy :,)

Word Count: 4,814

Warnings: unprotected sex, teasing (sexual and nonsexual), kinda fluffy at the end! (take that lightly, i dont write fluff well lmfao)

   You stood in front of your closet, continuously searching through the clothes as if something new was going to appear. You pulled a black skater dress off of the hanger and slipped it over your head, looking in your mirror, only half satisfied with the way it looked.    "You're just trying on the same dress in different colors, it's not that hard to pick one." You jumped when you heard a voice behind you, turning around to see none other than Tate. Your family had moved into the house about seven months ago. Both your mother and father were some kind of twisted horror fanatics, so they purchased the house knowing full well you'd be the owners of "Murder House." It was strange to get adjusted to at first, it's like living with ten other people, but only sometimes. Tate made himself visible the most out of everybody.    "How long have you been sitting there? Fuckin' creep." You scoffed, sitting on the edge of your bed to put on a pair of black boots.

"Long enough." He smirked at you, standing up to walk to your desk, flicking through your notebooks.    You saw Tate most often, but frankly, he was the last person you cared to see. He was obnoxious, arrogant, and overall just kind of a douche. You'd come home from school to see him laying in your bed listening to your music. Or you'd wake up in the middle of the night to things falling off of your bookshelf, furniture moving with no one being there. It was always him though. It's like he got off on just screwing with you; so he did. Quite often. Everybody else in the house was decent. Nora was sweet, she just cried a lot. Which was fair given her situation. Chad and Patrick were both okay individually, but when they were together, they were beyond irritating. Just so incredibly passive aggressive - you couldn't imagine being stuck in a house for eternity with someone you wanted to divorce.    You stood up, smoothing out your dress before grabbing your small bag and slinging it over your shoulder. Your parents had decided everyone was going to go out on a nice lunch today.    "Can you get out? I'm leaving." You pushed past him, opening your door and motioning him to walk out. 

"I can never get out, angel." He said, sounding just as conceited as ever, making his way to the door, leaning against the wooden frame. "But I guess I can leave you to your little lunch date with mommy and daddy." He teased you condescendingly. You'd done your best to not let him bother you, but he knew exactly how to get under your skin.

"Thanks for being so kind, Tate." You gave him the sweetest smile you could manage, slamming your bedroom door when the two of you had exited. 

ii.    You'd finally gotten home a few hours later. Your parents were very good at starting conversation with every server you'd ever had. They get talking, and then the server gets talking and it seems to last forever. They do always get some kind of discount or something free for being kind though. Your mom had been a server for a decent part of her life, so she was always extra nice to them.        Telling them you had homework to work on, you made your way upstairs to your room, hearing music coming from behind the door. Just as you suspected, Tate was sprawled out on your bed, hands behind his head, eyes closed. You sighed and walked over to your bed, smacking Tate's side.

   "Can you get the fuck out? I have homework to do." You hissed. You definitely weren't going to do homework though. You'd probably end up reading, or watching YouTube or something - but Tate didn't need to know that part. His eyes opened slowly, and you felt like you couldn't look away. He looked angelic (ironically.) His blond curls spread messily around his head, face peaceful, and most importantly, he wasn't talking, which made him look amazing. Without a word, he moved over to one side of the bed, making room for you on the other.

    "Tate, I mean it, get out. I've got shit to do." You tried to sound strong - however, you weren't very threatening.

"Whatever you've got to do, just do it quietly." He mumbled, eyes closing once again. Looks like you weren't going to be getting him out of your room. With that, you grabbed the book you've been reading and took a seat at your desk chair, kicking your boots off and putting your feet up on the desk. Your dress fell just a bit to reveal part of your upper thigh. Within minutes, you heard quiet snoring coming from the boy in your bed, blankets pulled up to his chin now. How he managed to make himself so comfortable in your room remained a mystery. It was his room first, technically though. You looked up from your book to see him snuggled tightly under the dark purple duvet, lips parted just slightly. 

You couldn't take your eyes off of him - he looked so  peaceful and quite beautiful honestly.     No - what the fuck are you thinking? You thought to yourself. You don't like Tate - you haven't since the day you moved into this house. He was rude and condescending and way too overly confident. He might be nice to look at, but that's all he had going for him. You had to shut those thoughts down immediately. You shook your head and picked your book up again, returning to the chapter you were reading. iii.    "Why are you going to school? Wouldn't you rather stay here with me?" Tate teased, leaning against your door frame, blocking you from leaving. He'd been there since you woke up, but he wasn't going to tell you that part. He'd watched you strip out of your pajamas and slide into your hip hugging denim jeans. He enjoyed seeing you - there was something so erotic to him about just watching you go about your normal routine. Not only was it erotic for him, he just liked to watch you. He was fascinated with the way you'd wing your eyeliner, or paint your lips your favorite pink nude. He liked seeing the way you'd quietly sing to yourself in the morning. Most people that moved into that house were terrified of him and everyone else there. You and your family were so different for him. Tate hadn't felt accepted probably ever in his life. Being accepted, and even admired was such a new feeling for him.     

"No, Tate I wouldn't. I need to go to class today." You huffed, slinging your bag over your shoulder and crossing your arms. He had that stupid smirk stuck to his face. Today, it was hard to tell him no. He did this every few days, and you always pushed past him without a second thought. Today, you kind of wanted to stay home with him. But you couldn't. You'd always done well in school, and it was something you took pride in. So you did what you always did and pushed past him, looking over your shoulder to see him watching you walk away. 

"Your ass looks cute in those jeans!" He called, blowing you a kiss oh-so sweetly. Your heart jumped a bit with his words.    You sat in the cold blue plastic chair, resting your head in the palm of your hand as your English professor babbled on about the assigned reading. The assigned reading that Tate wouldn't let you finish. You were sat in your bed, legs crossed at your ankle trying to finish the chapter. You looked up to see none other than your blond haired nuisance. He was wearing torn up black jeans and Doc Martens. You had the same pair. He crawled over the iron swirls of your bed frame, and laid next to you - uninvited. He tried to talk to you about whatever he could - about your book, about your boots, about himself, about how good he thought you looked in a denim mini skirt. His flirting was always sarcastic. At least it seemed that way. No matter how sarcastic he was though, somehow his words always made your heart flutter. No matter how much you tried to suppress it.    "(Y/N)? Can you tell me what happened to our main character in chapter 7?" Your teacher had her arms crossed over her chest, pulling you from your little fantasy - you just zoned out in class thinking about Tate fucking Langdon? Really?   

"I-well Mrs. Sanchez..." You stammered, sucking your bottom lip into your mouth, cheeks turned an almost electric red. How the hell did you get so carried off thinking about a boy you thought you couldn't stand? 

 "Please pay attention, all of this is important." She said, clearly unhappy with you. You were one of her favorite students, but she had almost ridiculously high expectations of you. Oh well, you thought, she'd forget about it tomorrow.    You closed your front door behind you. It was about 3 o'clock. Your mom and dad would be at work for another couple of hours. But you were sure you'd walk upstairs to find Tate curled up in your bed for his afternoon nap, just like you found him there every day. He was a bit predictable sometimes. You trudged up the stairs, desperately needing some alone time. You'd found yourself day dreaming about Tate more than once. You'd see something that reminded you of him, and you'd feel your heart jump in your chest. You'd thought about the little freckle on his nose, and the way he'd touch all his fingers to his thumb when he got a little nervous. You'd thought about the one time you walked into the bathroom to see him shirtless standing looking in the mirror. His jeans were unbuttoned and hung low on his hips. His muscular shoulders stiffened a bit when he saw your reflection.

"I-I..." You stuttered, unable to look away. "I'm sorry, I didn't know you were in here." Your cheeks were beet red, voice audibly shaking.     "That's okay," He turned around and took a few steps towards you. "You can walk in on me like this whenever you want. It seems like you're liking what you see." He growled, his hand moved to rest against wall next to your head.    You sighed and threw your bag to the floor, kicking your shoes off quickly. That memory ignited something in you and you couldn't deny the wetness forming between your thighs. Swiftly, you unbuttoned your jeans and slid them down your legs, crawling into your bed. You hooked your phone up to your speaker, playing your "Steamyyyyy" playlist, as if you'd ever been with more than one person before. You ran one finger down your chest, to your stomach, finally reaching your black panties, one finger rubbing light circles over your clothed clit. You let out a throaty sigh, gradually picking up speed. Your eyes were closed, head thrown back onto the black silk of your pillow case. You pushed the fabric to the side, your fingertip finally making skin to skin contact with the little bundle of nerves held between your soaking folds. Your lips remained parted, letting out desperate little whimpers every few seconds. Your free hand gripped at the sheets as your finger worked faster, whimpers eventually turning into loud moans. You hadn't been alone to do this in so long - honestly, you'd forgotten what it felt like. As alone as you felt, you logically knew you were never alone in this house. Tate was sat in your desk chair, a distinct protrusion pressing against his light wash jeans. His jaw hung open as he watched you, in shock over how beautiful you looked.Your mind was running with thoughts of none other than him; you thought about his fingers working you like this, his large hands caressing your skin, his full lips pressing kisses into your neck.     

"Tate..." You gasped, fully immersed in your fantasy, feeling that familiar tighten in your tummy, your fingers moved harder almost instinctively. Tate sat there, quiet. You'd finally rendered him speechless. His name fell from your lips several more times. His hand clapped over his mouth to hide his whimpers as you made his cock twitch against his boxers. Truthfully, he'd fantasized about you more times than he cared to admit. Seeing you like this was just a happy accident. He'd walked into your room with the intention to scare you, throw some stuff off of your shelves to mess with your head. But he stopped outside the door, hearing muffled moans. He opened the door slowly, eyes widening when he saw what you were doing.     Suddenly, the coil inside of you snapped and your legs started shaking. Your jaw hung agape, nails digging into the soft fabric beneath you.     

"Oh- fuck! Tate..." You hissed loudly, guaranteed that someone, somewhere in the house heard you. But, it was just Tate. He now stood at the end of your bed, watching as you soaked your fingers, his hand gently palming himself through his jeans. Once you'd finally ridden out your orgasm, you pulled your fingers from their spot between your legs, sighing deeply, satisfied. Your eyes finally opened and you looked around - still no one. Part of you was surprised Tate wasn't there to make fun of you. It was in that moment that you realized how loudly you'd been saying his name. You literally gotten off to him. He'd invaded your thoughts throughout the day and now he was doing it again in your only alone time. God dammit. You sighed and leaned up in your bed, rubbing your eyes. You couldn't keep playing this game with him - you needed to ask him what the hell his goal was. You needed to see what he felt for you. 

   You stood up and slid back into your jeans from earlier, making your way to your bathroom down the hall. The closer you got, you could hear a voice coming from inside. Your hand met the coolness of the door knob, but you stopped, feeling your knees weaken when you realized what you were hearing. From the other side of the door came strained grunts. Your heart was racing but you couldn't pull away. You pressed your ear against the door, the voice getting louder and louder. 

"(Y/N)," the voice hissed - your suspicions were confirmed, it was Tate. "I-I'm gonna' cum..." He hissed, letting out a loud, relieved moan. Your mind was racing, desperate to see what he looked like in that moment. Moments later, you heard the zipper of his jeans and quicker than you meant to, you began your little run down the hall and down the stairs, no doubt he heard your foot falls. Your heart was going to jump out of your throat, you were sure of it. It was your own fault for thinking you'd ever have any kind of alone time in this house. Tate never left you alone - he saw you. He had to. There was no way that was a coincidence. You opened he fridge, not really looking for anything, just trying to occupy yourself. You jumped when you saw two hands on either side of your head, making contact with the fridge. Speak of the devil.

   "Tate! You-you scared me." Whether he saw you or not, it was clear that something had you frazzled.    

"Can we talk?" His voice sounded deep, gravelly, almost like when he'd just woken up. You finally turned around and looked up at him. His hair was a bit messy, cheeks tinted a pale pink.    

"Yeah, about what?" Your voice shook with your words, hands clasped tightly in front of you. You looked up at him as he pushed his body closer to yours.    

"No need to act like you don't know what you heard." He growled, chest pressed tightly to yours. "And I'm not going to act like I didn't see you soaking your sheets thinking about me."

His dark eyes looked bright. He got some kind of thrill out of embarrassing you. You opened your mouth to say something sarcastic back, but no sound came out. Tate being this close to you was making your heart race, you didn't have the overwhelming urge to shove him away like you normally would.   

"I think," He whispered, lips ghosting yours, "You like when I tease you." He smirked, one hand moving down your side to your hip. "Why don't you tell me what you were thinking about, hm baby girl?" His lips brushing yours forced an unintentional moan from your throat, cheeks flushing almost instantly.    "I-Tate..." You were mesmerized. He had you in the palm of his hand and it excited him. "I wasn't thinking about you." You tried to lie, realizing just how dumb you sounded after the words came out.     

"Oh Tate," He raised his tone to mock you, "Fuck me, Tate." He chuckled down at you. "Nothing to be embarrassed about doll, I know you heard me saying your name just like that too." He gave your hip a firm squeeze. 

"After what, nine months in this house, I think it's time you live your fantasies." 

He held you tightly in his hands, spinning you two around so you were pressed against the edge of the counter top. You had nothing to say. Honestly, you were unbelievably excited. You'd thought about his hands touching your skin, his lips on yours, you've wanted this longer than you cared to admit. Your hand came up to hold one side of his face, taking a fistful of his hair and kissing him - hard. His lips worked against yours perfectly, feeling as if they were made to fit together. He got rougher, not hesitating to take control of you. He pushed you firmly against the cool marble behind your back, lips moving from yours down your jaw and to the soft skin on your neck. His kisses started gentle, but quickly got aggressive, nipping at the skin, leaving purple marks in his wake.

You tugged at the hem of his t-shirt, feeling him smirk against your skin before he pulled back to tug the gray fabric over his head, showing you his slightly toned torso. Your heart rate picked up once again as you looked him up and down. 

   "Your turn, angel." He cooed softly, watching as you followed his actions, tossing your tank top to the side. He smirked at you, using both hands to grope at your exposed chest, pressing possessive kisses to your chest.    

"I've always loved it when you don't wear a bra." He teased you, his playful, mocking tone returning.

"It's much more obvious than you think." He smirked and tweaked one nipple between his pointer finger and thumb, making you whimper from the slightly satisfying jolt of pain. You leaned your head back, allowing your eyes to shut as his tongue replaced his fingers, flicking over your nipple. Your lips were parted, letting out quiet gasps of pleasure. His now free hands moved down your sides and to your jeans, unbuttoning them with ease and sliding them down your thighs. You kicked them aimlessly to the forming pile of clothes on he floor.

His kisses started moving south, trailing them down your breasts, to your stomach, to your hips, finally reaching the thin cotton fabric that was now soaked between your legs. One of his hands came up to lift your leg over his shoulder, his lips pushing a few light kisses against your clothed pussy. You whimpered, desperate for him. You'd never admitted it to yourself, but Tate has always a central theme in your fantasies. He'd force his way into your thoughts without you even realizing it, and after you were done, you'd push it away and pretend like you'd thought about someone else. You didn't want to be attracted to someone as annoying and immature as Tate, but now he had his head between your thighs and you had no intention of stopping it.

   He'd pushed the thin fabric aside, flicking his tongue against your clit just once, to make you moan out in pleasure.         

"Stop teasing me, dick head." You half whimpered, half challenged him. You did want him, so badly, but you couldn't let him see just how wrapped around his finger you really were. With your words he roughly pulled your hips forward, forcing a harsh smack to your ass.    

"I like you much more when you're just moaning my name." He growled, but he listened to you. His lips attached to your clit and he began sucking lightly, not hesitating to push two fingers into your wet heat, making you squeal in pleasure. It'd been a long time since someone else's fingers had penetrated you, and somehow Tate was fucking amazing at it. He curled his fingers perfectly in rhythm with the way his mouth worked your clit. Your hands gripped the edge of the counter top, knees growing weak. You felt that tight heat rising in your tummy, his fingers and tongue getting you so close to release, much quicker than you ever did by yourself.     

"Tate- I'm gonna-" He stood up, smoothly lifting you up onto the counter, keeping your leg slung over his shoulder.    

"You're cumming on my cock." He growled dominantly, his eyes looking dark and almost feral. He kicked his jeans and boxers to the side, completing the pile of your clothes. You couldn't help but watch as he stroked his length a few times before lining it up with your entrance, pushing into you painfully slowly. You looked up at him, taking in his features. His jaw hung open a bit, blond curls hanging in his eyes. He looked as perfect as someone possibly could. Once he bottomed out inside of you, he looked up, beginning to thrust into you, starting slow and picking up gradually. 

   "Fuck-" He hissed through gritted teeth, "You're so fucking tight." His hands rested on the counter on either side of your hips, fingertips turning white from how hard he pressed into the surface. He kept up a steady pace for awhile before you felt his hips stutter - he was close. He brought one hand up and began rubbing fast circles over your clit, making your legs tremble around him.    

"Cum with me, angel." He growled, fingers picking up their pace, your lips barely brushing his as you felt that tightness return. Your jaw hung open now as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. You watched his fingers and hips work in time against you, when all of a sudden you felt him release, covering your walls with his hot cum, forcing the coil in your tummy to snap. You came with him, nails digging into his shoulder, knees feeling weak before it was even over. You watched his face relax once he was finished, chest rising and falling quickly. He looked up at you through his hair, flashing a faint smile. He pulled out of you slowly, pressing a loving kiss into your cheek before bending down to dig through the pile of clothes to find his boxers. He slipped them over his legs, followed by his jeans, but you stayed in your spot on the counter.    "What? Why are you looking at me like that?" He looked at you, jeans resting low on his hips.    "You get on my fucking nerves more than anything, and somehow you managed to have me up on this counter for you." You shook your head, blatantly in shock from what just happened. You didn't want it to end though. There was something about seeing Tate so vulnerable, yet so confident that just left you wanting more. He smirked, pulling his shirt over his head and shrugging.    "Neither of us are complaining." He smirked, tossing you your shirt and helping you down from the counter. You pulled your tank top on, opening your mouth to respond when you heard the key turn in the door - your parents were home.    "This isn't over, Langdon." You hissed, grabbing your clothes before rushing up the stairs, accidentally slamming your door much harder than you intended.    A few weeks had passed since your encounter with Tate, and there had been a repeat of those events every few days. You two started to pick up on what the other one liked. Like how you enjoyed having your hair pulled and Tate enjoyed when you'd kiss his neck. He liked having you in control. For someone as confident and douchey he was, he liked having you dirty talking him, being the more dominant one occasionally. And god damn, that boy was always in the mood. You'd feel his hands on your hips when you'd brush your teeth in the morning, or when you were getting ready for bed, he'd kiss down your shoulders the way he knew you loved. But you didn't mind. If he wanted it, you were happy to drop what you were doing and sleep with him. It was a fun little arrangement.    It was late, probably around 2 A.M., Tate was laid next to you, a blanket covering him from the waist down, his arms behind his head. You looked over at him, feeling your heart race a little faster. The more time you spent with Tate, the more you grew to appreciate him. He was funny, and charismatic. He'd make you giggle but then have you bent over your bed in the same minute. You couldn't help but miss the feeling of him when you slept alone in your bed. He was always warm.    You pulled the blanket tighter around your chest as you leaned up on one elbow, looking over at his sleepy face.        "Tate can I ask you something? It's kind of dumb, but I just need to know." You felt nervous all of a sudden. You weren't even exactly sure what you wanted with him. Could you be in a relationship with someone who died in the 90's? Was that even what he wanted? What if he just wanted to be fuck buddies? Is that okay with you? Your brain was jumbled with all these thoughts, interrupted when he looked over at you, skin almost glowing in the dim light.    "What's up?" He looked up at you, his finger drawing lazy circles on his chest. You took a deep breath and visibly shifted, clearly uncomfortable.    "What are we?" You blurted out, cheeks going red immediately. "Because we- we fuck a lot. You're in my room a lot. You never let me be alone, and I just don't want to say something weird, or continue being in the dark I guess." Your voice trailed off before you collapsed down onto your back again, suddenly unable to look at him. He looked over at you though, you couldn't meet his eyes.    "What do you want to be?"    "No, don't put this on me. Answer my question."    He sighed, and you finally looked over at hi,.    "(Y/N)," He started, looking over your chest before looking back into your eyes. "Honestly, this started as sex." Your heart dropped. "But you're right, we have spent a lot of time together. I like being in here with you, regardless of what we're doing." He moved to cup one side of your face.    "I don't want to tie you down, ever. I can't leave this house, and I don't want you to be stuck here with me." You opened your mouth to cut him off, tell him that you were willing to be here with him, for however long he wanted, but he cut you off, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip.    "How about this - you and me continue what we're doing here. We can be boyfriend and girlfriend here, but I won't be mad if you find someone else, out there." His words almost brought tears to your eyes. You hadn't felt cared for like this in so long, and to be here, this vulnerable and intimate made your eyes well up.    "Please just agree. If I could leave this house, I'd ask you to be mine right now, and I'd parade you around for everybody to see. But I can't do that, so we keep doing what we're doing, and see how things progress naturally." He flashed you a close mouthed smile, but it felt genuine nonetheless. One tear fell down your cheek, and you returned his smile.    "That sounds perfect to me. Boyfriend and girlfriend, kind of." You grinned before he pulled you into a kiss, hands wrapping around you to keep you in his arms - and you'd stay there as long as he wanted you to.

[peachgl]

          hi  pals  !  i’m  super  stoked  #glitterati  is  back  !  i’m  leia  (  she  /  her  ) ,  your  resident  aesthetic  heaux  ,  residing  in  est  .  i’m  so  excited  to  meet  everyone’s  muses  !  i’m  gonna  throw  a  lil’  bit  about  my  southern  princess  lola  beneath  the  cut  !  i’ll  be  around  for  the  rest  of  the  night  so  please  plot  with  me  in  the  ims  or  on  discord  @  theweeknds#0379  .  

*  it  would  seem  one  can’t  hear  this  is  what  makes  us  girls  by  lana  del   rey without  raising  murmurs  of  a  frequent  patron  of  public  adoration &  obsession  ,  the  ever - rising  starlet charlotte  beaumont  —  the  loquacious  cisfemale   with  a  strikingly  uncanny  resemblance  to  alexis  ren  .  increasingly  so  ,  it  seems  she  is  being  caught  up  in  hushed  talks  of  that  glitterati  nonsense    .  oh  ,  haven’t  you  heard  ?  should  rumors  be  trusted  ,  it’s  been  said  that  they  made  it  into  the  glitterati  because  of  her  attempt  to   rebrand  her  persona  after  becoming   a   jaded  child  starlet  —  but  surely  you’ve  brushed  off  such  accusations  as  mindless  chatter  by  now  .  widely  recognized  as  a  bisexual  gemini ,  they  say  papa  legba  honed  in  on  your undeviating  duplicitous  &  glib   tendencies  ,  surely  to  be  exploited  if  he  can  strip  you  of  your  otherwise  redemptive eloquent  & alluring   conventions  ,  much  to  his  supposed  chagrin  .  people  muse  that  since  that  fateful  encounter  ,  you’ve  ascended  to rank  d  thanks  to  his  less  than  savory  interventions  ,  despite  your  interaction  being  out  of  envy  .  truly  …   how  else  would  a twenty - one year  old  insta  model  /  youtuber reach  a  net  worth  of  $22m  with  such  unprecedented  ease  ?  what  truth  is  there  to  these  rumors  ,  lola  ?  what  are  you  willing  to  sacrifice  to  keep  what  you’ve  become  ?

her  pinterest  can  be  found  right   here  !  

i  made  a  semi  functional  plots  page  here  !

 charlotte  ‘  lola  ’  may  beaumont  ,  born  in  the  heart  of  the  south  :  tuscaloosa,  alabama  was  treated  like  the  doll  she  resembled,  rosy  cheeks  &  blonde  curls  neatly  tied  with  pastel  pink  bows  –  the  epitome  of  perfection,  spoiled  by  the  riches  of  the  beaumont  name  .

 her  father  ,  a  business  tycoon  raised  to  be  the  ceo  of  the  family’s  company  .   her  mother  ,  a  former  beauty  queen  obsessed  with  the  socially  constructed  concept  of  skin  deep  beauty  .

 her  first  taste  of  fame  had  been  short  lived,  bringing  life  to  the  coined  phase  :  15  minutes  of  fame  .  on  one  of  the  daily  mother  daughter  shopping  dates  ,  charlotte  was  discovered  by  a  producer  looking  for  the  next  big  child  star.  the  news  elated  her  mother  &  at  age  14  ,  the  idea  of  being  a  star  excited  charlotte  .  her  father  took  over  the  location  in  los  angeles  so  the  beaumonts  could  pursue  charlotte’s  new  found  career  path  .

 like  her  mother,  charlotte  fell  in  lust  with  the  idea  of  being  loved  ,  pampered  ,  &  adored  .  however  ,  her  mother  couldn’t  help  but  seduce  the  producer  with  her  artificial  beauty  &  charm.  the  affair  was  short  lived  ,  but  the  revelation  took  everything  away  from  charlotte  .  &  at  age  16  ,  the  media  no  longer  had  nice  words  to  say  –  charlotte  jaded  so  young  ,  never  knowing  the  real  reason  why  it  all  ended  so  abruptly  .

the  beaumonts  decided  not  to  follow  through  with  a  divorce  for  the  sake  of  charlotte,  but  the  family  dynamic  was  never  the  same  .  her  father  treated  her  mother  coldly  ,  &  in  turn  charlotte  because  of  she  was  a  walking  reminder  ,  her  mother’s  mini  me  .

 &  at  age  18  ,  the  truth  came  out  as  charlotte  learned  why  she  became  a  pariah  in  the  media  rather  than  her  destiny  as  america’s  sweetheart  .  the  worst  part  was  she  realized  she’s  slowly  becoming  her  mother  –  an  inability  to  be  loyal  ,  easily  falling  for  any  bit  of  attention  thrown  her  way  .

 whenever  someone  brings  up  her  child  star  past  ,  the  fame  no  longer  feels  like  the  pure  attention  she  craves  ,  it’s  tainted  .  so  she  went  seeking  attention  in  other  places,  introducing  herself  to  new  ways  –  partying  &  going  out  ,  easily  fitting  into  the  role  of  good  girl  gone  wild  –  managing  to  build  a  small  following  on  instagram  in  the  process  --  what  caught  papa  legba’s  attention  in  the  first  place  .

 her  antics  were  a  cry  for  attention  from  an  absent  father  who  seems  to  blame  charlotte  for  her  mother’s  affair  .  &  charlotte  is  left  missing  the  days  where  she  was  her  daddy’s  little  girl  with  dolls  aligning  her  shelf  .  but  she’s  not  so  innocent  anymore  since  she’s  hiding  50  mL  bottles  of  vodka   beneath  their  skirts  –  it’s  like  a  metaphor  for  her  personality  .

 i  feel  like  charlotte’s  a  dream  ,  this  whimsical  personality  that  demands  attention  kinda  like  cher  in  clueless  ,  but  you  can  tell  that  there’s  something  off  –  that  her  whole  innocence  isn’t  truly  what  it  seems  .  somewhere  along  the  way  of  going  out  ,  charlotte  wound  up  with  an  addiction  to  liquor  ,  another  secret  of  hers  she  keeps  under  wraps  &  denies  having  .  it’s  not  her  fault  the  burn  of   alcohol  makes  her  feel  something  other  than  the  constant  need  for  attention.  plus  the  stress  &  secrets  of  the  glitterati  only  add  to  her  need  for  an  escape  of  sorts  .  but  she  has  them  to  thank  for  the  success  of  her  youtube  channel  :  lolamont  ,  &  her  high  following  on  instagram.  

in  terms  of  her  career  ,  i  was  inspired  by  tana  mongeau’s  story  times  (  i’m  so  sorry  if  you  dislike  her  !  )  –  they’re  just  super  outrageous,  clickbait  -  like  ,  &  attention  seeking  which  fits  charlotte  so  ???  her  other  career  claim  is  alissa  violet  bc  i  feel  like  her  insta  following  /  yt  vlogs  are  very  reminiscent  of  charlotte  . 

[splendidlyimperfect]

It’s been thirteen years since Natsu and Gray met in a program for troubled youth - since they both fell apart and helped put each other back together. Now they’re married and happy, loving each other and the shared family they found. But the past doesn’t always stay past, and when the things that broke them come back into their lives, Natsu and Gray have difficult decisions to make - ones that could change their lives forever.

Chapter Summary: Natsu's dad contacts him, and Natsu isn't sure how to handle it.

Chapters (6/?):  1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 Rating: Mature Relationships: Natsu Dragneel/Gray Fullbuster, Rogue Cheney/Sting Eucliffe, Laxus Dreyar/Freed Justine Characters: Natsu Dragneel, Gray Fullbuster, Rogue Cheney, Sting Eucliffe, Freed Justine, Laxus Dreyar, Wendy Marvell, Chelia Blendy, Ultear Milkovich, Lyon Vastia, Lucy Heartfilia Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Aged-Up Character(s), Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Married Couple, Established Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Past Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Drug Addiction, Mental Health Issues, Foster Care, Family Issues, Tumblr: FTLGBTales, Grief/Mourning, Childhood Trauma, Bipolar Disorder, Adoption, Families of Choice, Nonbinary Character, Trans Character, Genderfluid Character, Forgiveness, Absent Parents, they're really in love but are sometimes dumb, Natsu is a stubborn shit Series: Part 14 of the only hope for me is you, Part 3 of if you jump i’ll break your fall

—–

Three days later, Natsu got a reply. He was coming back from the washroom at three in the morning when he saw his phone flashing with a message and picked it up.

Wow… I don’t even know what to say. Hey, I guess?

Natsu sat down heavily on the bed, staring at the words before opening the message window. Neelan was online – the little green dot beside his name made Natsu’s stomach twist.

He looked over at Gray, who was fast asleep with Happy curled up next to him. A few stray hairs fell in Gray’s eyes and Natsu reached over, gently brushing them away and running his finger down Gray’s cheek.

Gray mumbled something, shifting onto his side and pulling the pillow closer to him.

“Hey, Snowflake,” Natsu whispered. “You awake?”

The only response was a soft snore, and Natsu looked back at his phone uncertainly. He shuffled until his back was pressed up against Gray’s legs but turned so that the light from his phone screen wasn’t hitting Gray’s face.  

hey, he typed, then sat there, thumbs hovering over the keys for a moment before hitting ‘send.’ His stomach clenched and he reached out for Gray, ready to wake him up, but his phone buzzed again.

I’m sorry it took me so long to respond.

Natsu wished he could hear the emotion behind the words as they travelled across the screen. Was Neelan angry? Happy? Frustrated? Did he want to have this conversation, or was he ready to tell Natsu to leave him alone?

Another message popped up. How are you? You probably have lots of questions.  

Natsu stared at his phone, trying to figure out how to answer.

yeah i guess, he replied eventually. i didnt think id look for u but my foster sister found her mom and it made me think. u live pretty close. its kinda weird.

Neelan’s reply came quicker than Natsu expected. I never thought you’d want to look for me. You’re what, thirty now?

Natsu typed back a quick yeah, then tipped his head back and rubbed his face. A million questions were running through his mind, and he wasn’t sure what to say.

Continue reading on AO3

I’m not sure how to ask this, Neelan wrote, but… did you find a family? Were you okay after I left? I’m really sorry things turned out the way they did.

A spike of anger and hurt flared up in Natsu’s chest and he curled up in on himself, swallowing back the tears that suddenly pressed at the back of his eyes. How was he supposed to answer that?

im married now, he said eventually. he’s my family.

After he hit send, a wave of trepidation washed over him – he hadn’t even thought about the idea of coming out to his dad. It was something everyone in his life already knew, and nobody had ever had a problem with it. But what if his dad did? Natsu’s palms felt slick and he nearly dropped his phone when it buzzed again.

I’m really happy for you. I saw your last name was different. What’s his name?

Natsu exhaled, pressing his forehead to his knees and glancing over at Gray again. He ran his fingers through Gray’s hair, thinking again about waking him up. Everything felt surreal, like this was just a movie about somebody else who was hurt and broken and unsure.

gray, he replied. weve been maried for 10yrs.

Wow. Do you have any kids?

The question stung. Natsu wiped at his face before answering no, then set his phone face-down on the bed next to his pillow and ran his hands through his hair. Happy made a sound that was half-purr, half-grumble, and stretched himself out, then headbutted Natsu until Natsu scratched his back.

The phone buzzed twice and Natsu reached out for it, then drew back his hand, shaking his head. He was exhausted, suddenly, and the ache in his chest made him feel heavy.

He moved the phone off to the side of the bed, then curled back up under the covers, shifting until his back was pressed to Gray’s chest. Gray made a soft, sleepy sound, wrapping his arm around Natsu’s waist and pressing his face to the back of Natsu’s neck.

“I love you,” Natsu whispered, threading his fingers through Gray’s and squeezing his hand tightly. Gray tucked his knee between Natsu’s legs, and Natsu sighed, relaxing into the embrace. This was his home. No matter what his dad said, Natsu was safe here, with Gray.

~

Natsu meant to tell Gray as soon as they woke up the next morning, but when he yawned and rolled over, he realized he was alone in bed. The shower was running, and Natsu considered joining Gray, then looked over at his phone and groaned. He reached out and grabbed it but didn’t look at the screen, setting it face-down on his chest and taking a few deep breaths.

Why did you leave? he thought, rubbing his face. That’s all he needed to type. He didn’t even need to look at the other messages from last night – they weren’t important. All Natsu cared about was the answer. He didn’t need a relationship with someone who left.

Finally, he opened his notifications and stared at the messages from his dad.

I feel awful for leaving you, the first one read. I think about you a lot. I just couldn’t be a dad, and I know that’s hard to understand. I thought you’d be better off without me.  

The next one said, I know it doesn’t make it better, but it hurt me a lot to leave you, too. I still have a picture of us in my wallet.

It was accompanied by a snapshot of a faded, worn picture of Neelan, looking like he was in his early twenties. In his lap was Natsu – maybe around three years old, chubby-cheeked with messy brown hair and a missing front tooth. He was gazing up at Neelan with bright eyes and a wide smile.

Natsu stared down at the picture. At first, all he could see was the adoring way he was looking at his father. Then he started picking up other details – the bracelet Neelan wore, the swingset in the background, a residue of sticky ice cream on little Natsu’s cheeks. Neelan’s hair was pulled back in a similar ponytail to the one Natsu had now, and he wore a hoodie with Magnolia’s hockey team logo on the chest.

Natsu swallowed, rubbing his face as a hot flush crept across his face and something unfamiliar bubbled in his stomach.

wow, he typed back after staring at the picture for several minutes. i dont have any picturs of me when i was little.

I have more, if you’d like to see them, came the almost immediate response. I’m sure you look a lot different now.

Before Natsu could think about what he was doing, he opened his photo folder and scrolled through them until he came to one that Gray had taken a few weeks ago, of Natsu with Sylvie at the night market in Richmond. They were both holding up cups of bubble tea and grinning at the camera.

Natsu clicked ‘share,’ and when the message popped up that the picture was sent, the bubbling in his stomach intensified. It took a few minutes for Neelan to respond, and Natsu was about to start panicking when the words finally popped up.

You look just like your mom.

“Hey, you.” Gray’s voice snapped Natsu out of his trance and he closed the app quickly, guilt filling his chest. Gray stood in the doorway to the bathroom in a t-shirt and boxers, damp hair hanging in his face, squinting over at Natsu. “How’d you sleep?” he asked, moving over to the bed and grabbing his glasses from the side table.

“Good,” Natsu said, shoving his phone under his pillow and shuffling over to Gray’s side of the bed. He caught Gray around the waist, pulling him in and kissing his cheek. “You been up for a while?”

Tell him, Natsu thought. Just say it. ‘I found my dad.’

“Yeah, I just got back from the pool,” Gray said, wrapping his arms around Natsu’s shoulders. “I was gonna wake you up, but you were snoring, and you looked like you needed the sleep.”

Natsu snorted, then tugged Gray down onto the bed with him until they were curled up together and Natsu could run his fingers through Gray’s hair. Gray hummed happily, closing his eyes and shifting closer.

“I…” Natsu swallowed, forcing himself not to look back at his phone.

Gray tipped his head back to look at Natsu. “What’s wrong?” he asked, and Natsu’s heart sank as Gray’s face quickly transformed from content to concerned. It was that look, the one that made Natsu feel safe and helpless at the same time. This Gray was cautious, and if Natsu told him, he’d start asking questions Natsu couldn’t answer.

Is he sober? How did you find him? He could be lying. He left you. It was probably drugs. Be careful.

“Nothin’,” Natsu said, shaking his head and kissing Gray’s forehead. “Still tired, that’s all.” Gray frowned, but before he could ask any more questions, Natsu poked him in the ribs and said, “y’know what would wake me up?”

“What?” Gray asked, giving Natsu an unimpressed look and swatting away his finger good-naturedly. Natsu forced himself to smile.  

“Pancakes.”

~

Natsu didn’t check his phone again until he got to work. He gave Sting a quick wave through the back window, then headed to the office, dropping his bag under the desk and taking a deep breath before opening his messages.

There were three pictures from Neelan. One was of him holding Natsu as a tiny baby, almost too small to be real; another was of Natsu as a toddler playing at the beach.

The last one was of a young, pretty girl, maybe sixteen or seventeen, with long, black hair and brown skin just like Natsu’s. She was sitting on the end of a slide at a playground, toes dug into the sand, laughing with her head thrown back as the sun set in the background.

Natsu let out the breath he’d been holding, touching the picture carefully with shaky fingers. The girl was so young and looked so pretty, and all Natsu could think about was that she was dead.

“Who’s that?”

Natsu nearly dropped his phone when Sting appeared behind him, looking at the picture over his shoulder. Part of Natsu wanted to close it or make something up, but he couldn’t stop himself from whispering, “my mom.”

Sting froze behind him, then touched Natsu’s arm gently. Natsu took a shaky breath, turning around slowly and slumping into the office chair.

“Are you okay?” Sting asked gently, crouching down in front of Natsu. “Hey, Natsu, look at me,” he said gently. “C’mon, breathe.”

Natsu shook his head, relinquishing his grip on the phone as Sting took it from him and set it on the desk. He looked over at the picture again, taking an unsteady breath before exhaling sharply and looking down at Sting.

“I found my dad,” he said, the words spilling out of him. “He—I looked on Facebook, I’m so stupid, I don’t know why I didn’t do it before, and he lives in Victoria, he’s been… fucking, two hours away this whole fucking time, and I didn’t even think, and then he said he was sorry and he missed me and…” He paused, when whispered, “I look like my mom.” He didn’t even realize it was crying until his vision got burry, and he wiped his face with the back of his hand. “She looks h-happy.”

Sting squeezed Natsu’s knee reassuringly. “That’s a lot,” he said. “Do you want me to call Gray?”

“No,” Natsu said quickly, taking a deep breath as he tried to get his pounding heart under control. “No, he’s at—he’s in a meeting. I’m fine, I’m okay. I was just surprised, I didn’t think…”

“How long have you guys been talking?” Sting asked, standing up and grabbing the stool from the other side of the room. He pulled it over to the desk and settled down on it across from Natsu.

“Just since last night,” Natsu said, picking at his nails. “Or, early this morning, I guess.”

He reached out slowly and picked up his phone again, staring at the picture of his mom before flipping back to the other ones. “I’ve never seen pictures of myself as a kid,” he said softly.

“Shit, you were tiny,” Sting said, leaning in to look at the one of Neelan holding Natsu. It was taken in a hospital, and Natsu was lying on Neelan’s chest, barely bigger than the hands that held him. Neelan was staring down at him, and he looked…

“He loved me,” Natsu whispered. Neelan was smiling in the photo, eyes wide and awed and very much enamored with the tiny baby in his arms. Something complicated grew in Natsu’s chest – a feeling that was part pain and longing, and part relief.

“Why don’t you take the day off?” Sting suggested, squeezing Natsu’s arm. “I’m sure Gray’s meeting will be over soon. You wanna text him?”

Natsu nodded numbly, the words washing over him as he stared at the picture. His dad had loved him, had wanted him, had held him and looked at him like Natsu was his world.

So what had happened?

[fictional-scenarios]

can I please request a bnha scenario where reader is best friends with midorya(and secretly in love with him) and she has a very abusive father but she hides it from him until he stars treating her worse and one day hurts her so bad that she runs away without even thinking why, and that when midorya finds his best friend and crush bloodied on his door in the middle of the night. a lot of fluff if you can please? thank you so so much! I hope its not too weird, Im just going through some stuff tbh

don’t you let me go tonight 

pairing: midoriya / reader

a/n: this is such a… deep request, im sorry for whatever you’re going through and please know im here for you and dont be afraid to reach out! i hope this imagine finds you in good health and while it’s only a story, i hope it in some way can make you feel just a little bit better!

warnings: violence, abuse, please beware!

“Oh man, that must have been some tough training.”

It’s hard to see who is speaking to you with the sun glaring in your eyes, but you didn’t need to look to know just who it is. 

“Hah, yeah. Gotta train the best to be the best, y’know?” As you stand back up straight, you tug your sleeve down over your arms. Midoriya seems happy today, fired up with his fingers balled into a tight fist. He grins at you.

“Definitely,” his eyes, no longer able to wander over the countless bruises littering your arms, catch yours. “But don’t overwork yourself!”

You laugh, shoving your hands into your pockets. “You’re starting to sound like Iida.”

He falters before he loosens back up, rubbing the back of his head. “I guess I do. But seriously, those look kinda bad. Shouldn’t you go see Recovery Girl?”

“Again?” You raise a brow at him. “I just saw her last week- I don’t really want to get lectured for training too hard.”

“Exactly,” he’s starting to get worried again, it makes you nervous. “You’re in almost as much as me.”

“I’m fine, Midoriya.” It’s hard to assure him at this point. It used to be so easy- just a quick, ‘trained too hard’ and he would be all too happy to carry on. Now, things are different. He’s starting to ask questions, he’s starting to suspect things. There’s a longing in his eyes when you hide your wounds from him. 

“Alright,” he backs off reluctantly, sighing. “If you say so.”

It bothers you to the core to lie to him like this, but… It’s better than telling him the truth. A hero should never tell lies, especially not to those you care for the most, but you couldn’t bear the thought of him finding out just what was actually the source of your bruises, your cuts. They’re easy fixes by Recovery Girl, but you’ve visited her so many times that even she is starting to get antsy. Surely, you can’t be this reckless, she’d said, an odd look in her eyes. Since then, you’ve been reducing your trips. You didn’t want her to know. You didn’t want anyone to know.

Whether it was because you despised the pity or the embarrassment, you weren’t sure. 

After all, what kind of hero allows themselves to be struck by their own father?

What kind of hero comes that kind of family, anyways?

Midoriya has always been so helpful to you, the perfect lifeline, whether he knows it or not. The times you spend with him leisurely, not having to worry, to hide or fear, were your favorites. Even now, his eyes full of concern, you can’t help but feel… Safety.

But you can’t be with him forever, as much as you’d like to. Your phone vibrates in your pocket, and you pull it out and fight the grimace that threatens to show.

5:05 PM: Get home right now.

5:11 PM: Can you read?

5:15 PM: If you’re not home in 10, I’m coming to get you. 

You feel like you’re choking. Somehow you missed his messages. Somehow you didn’t hear your phone going off, a sound you’d trained yourself never to miss specifically for times like these. If you weren’t in public, you’d be bawling your eyes out.

“Everything okay?” Midoriya asks like he knows what you’re hiding. You press your lips into a tight line, force down the anxiety, and smile at him cheerily. 

“Of course. Dinner time.” Your voice wavers and you pray he doesn’t hear it. 

“Text me when you’re done!” He beams, and you can feel it in your chest. He’s just… The sweetest. The best you know. You want to tell him everything- let your words vomit and spill, but you can’t. He handles enough on his own. 

Though you’d rather die than leave knowing what’s waiting for you at home, you pull your bag over your shoulder and wave goodbye. As you turn your back on him, you take a good look at his face. He’s still happy, a bright but tired smile on his lips. He’s been working so hard lately to get control over his quirk, the one that seemingly came out of nowhere. 

Something feels different in the world when he leaves your line of sight. Everything feels heavy, like doom. Your stomach hurts on the way home as you leave your safety net. It even takes you a moment to get inside, standing at your own front door, terrified to open it. 

Maybe he’ll be in an okay mood. Maybe it really is dinner time, maybe tonight things will be fine.

You take in a deep breath before you grasp the doorknob, turning-

It flies open before you can even try to open it. 

“There you are,” his voice turns your blood cold. “When I tell you to come home, you come home,” he reaches out, catches you by your arm, yanks you inside. The world around you is gone in a blur. “Got it?”

You’re thrown onto the floor, your nose colliding with the tile. The door slams shut behind you as you scrabble to your knees. 

“What took you so damn long, huh?” There’s a hand grasping the collar of your shirt, yanking you to your feet roughly as you’re gagged by the force. Your father isn’t mad tonight- he’s enraged. When you’re face to face with him he grabs the fabric of your shirt, lifting your feet off the floor. “Explain!”

“I-I was just training-” He shakes you as you speak. “I’m sorry!”

“Training?!” You’re dropped to the floor, terror racing through you. There’s no one home, just you and him- there’s nothing stopping him. “This stupid U.A. bullshit again! It was with that green kid again wasn’t it?”

When you don’t respond he gets even angrier. A boot plants itself on your shoulder and-

You scream. 

You swear something cracks beneath his weight. 

“Keep your mouth shut, brat!” There’s fingers in your hair. “I ought to kill you!”

“Stop!” You howl, tears racing down your cheeks. You hate him, you hate him, you want to fight back but you can’t. He’s so much stronger but being lifted by your hair is agony-

Before you can stop yourself, your nails catch the skin of his hands. 

You hit the floor before you can even realize it. His shadow covers yours. You can’t see his face, he just stands silently. It’s the most terrifying thing you’ve ever witnessed. 

When he reaches down and catches you by the throat, you think of Midoriya.

You soon realize why the world felt wrong when you left him.

The sun had long since set by the time Midoriya finally wandered home. His muscles are blissfully exhausted, his stomach grateful when he opens the front door and smells pork cooking. His mother chose a late dinner tonight knowing he would be busy training with his friend.

“Izuku! Is that you?” She calls, and he slips his shoes off. 

“Yeah, it’s me!” He shuffles into the kitchen, slipping his jacket off and hanging it over the arm of the couch. “That smells great, mom.”

“It’s your favorite!” She lifts the lid off of a pot, and when the steam clears, he sees that delicious sizzling meat. He almost drools at the scent, but she has him shaking out of it when she speaks again. “How was training with ___?”

“It was good. She had to go kinda early though so I just stayed alone for a few hours.”

His mom frowns.  “Aw, here I was hoping she’d be coming back with you. I even made extra.”

Midoriya laughs graciously. “I’ll save her some. I’m sure she’ll appreciate it for lunch tomorrow.”

“Why don’t you ask her if she’d like to come over tonight?” Inko says, stirring some of the cooking rice. “You guys haven’t had a sleepover in a while.”

Midoriya scratches his cheek. “I don’t think her dad wants her to anymore.”

Inko seems to tense up for a moment, a strange look in her eyes. “Oh, right.” 

There’s a memory that flashes through his mind. It was so long ago but he remembers it so clearly. He’d walked you home after playing, just two kids having fun at the playground, but it was shortlived. Her dad had called her in and Midoriya, being the good friend he was, walked her to her doorstep. When she went inside, he got a good look at your father. A civilian, but in that moment, staring up at him, he swore he saw a villain. You were yanked inside before you could even say goodbye properly, and the door was promptly slammed shut in his face. 

He came home crying that day, and Inko had a less than enjoyable phone conversation with him. Since then they kept their interactions at a minimum, and you only ever came to Midoriya’s, never the other way around. 

“I’ll put some in a box for her,” she tries to bring her tone back up, but she can’t shake the uneasiness. “I hope she likes it.”

Midoriya pulls his phone from his back pocket and glances over his notifications, a heaviness settling in his gut. Something feels a bit off, as though something was going to happen at any moment. You never got back to him, and while that wasn’t the first time you’d gone radio silent after heading home, it didn’t feel right. Tonight, strangely, he felt like he needed an ‘ok’ from you. 

are you okay? 

He clicks send and waits, sitting down on the couch in silence while his mother absently fills the one-sided conversation with something nonchalantly. After ten minutes, his eyebrows knit. You haven’t even looked at it yet. Eating dinner felt oddly hollow, like there was something wrong. He goes to bed with that same feeling.

The first time he hears the sound, he thinks he’s dreaming. Soft sounds, almost like distant pounding, at his front door. He sits up with bleary eyes and yawns, glancing at the clock. 

3 a.m. 

Slowly, he gets out of bed and makes his way to his living room. There’s a set of frequent knocks and, yeah, he heard them that time. It makes him pick up the pace, a worried frown apparent when he finally pulls the doorknob and yanks the door open. What he sees has him stuck in his place, his eyes wide, his hands tight in fists.

It’s you.

One arm is slung around your gut, your open hand splayed over your stomach, while the other reaches out to support your body weight against the frame. You aren’t looking up at him, your head hung low, but already he can see the obvious pain you’re in. 

“___?” He whispers.

You slowly find the strength to look up at him. There’s blood everywhere he looks. It drips down your nose, paints your lips. It smears down the side of your head, and splits the bridge of your nose. 

“Izuku,” you sputter, and he hasn’t heard you say his first name like that before. “I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t even know what to say. You’re in so much pain. 

“___!” Midoriya’s arms find you in a split second, catching you as you lose your grip, holding you up as he brings you inside. The door slams shut as he leads you to his couch and sits you down on the cushioning. He slides the coffee table away just so he can sit on his knees and reach up to touch your face. The way you flinch away breaks his heart in two. “What happened to you?!”

“I-” you can barely even fucking speak. He cradles your face in his hands and he can’t stop the tears that prick at his eyes. Of all the people he never wanted to see in this state, so broken, it was you. And he doesn’t even know what to do. There’s nothing he can do. 

“___, wait here,” as much as he doesn’t want to leave you there, he needs to clean you up. His mind races as he grabs whatever he can find- mainly items he cleans himself up with. A rag, antiseptic, bandages. When he comes back, you’ve fallen on your side, hands holding your gut. He has to stand there for a moment- he has to register it. 

He crouches before you, reaches out, and touches the side of your head. Your eyes open, and finally, his tears fall. 

“What happened.” His voice shakes, your hair is damp against his palms. 

“I can’t do it anymore.” God, you sound pitiful. “I can’t.”

“Do what?” As he sets down the items, his eyes never leave yours. You aren’t crying anymore, you’re just… 

Empty. 

He presses the rag to your nose and your eyes scrunch shut. He swipes it across your cheekbones and you whimper. 

“I’m sorry,” he tries to say as evenly as possible. “But I have to get this off of you.”

“I didn’t know where else to go.” Your voice sounds far away, almost as if you were talking to yourself. “I have nowhere else to go.”

“It’s okay.” Midoriya isn’t even sure if you can actually hear him, but he says it anyways as he wipes his eyes fervently. “It’s okay.”

He wants to hold you. He wants to reach out and pull you against him and heal every single last wound on your flesh, but he can’t. He doesn’t know where it all hurts, he doesn’t want to move you, he feels like if he presses too hard, you’ll break. 

You deserve so much better.

“___,” he reaches out and carefully, oh so softly, touches the side of your face. “Can you hear me?”

Your eyes flicker to his lips, and then his eyes. When you nod, he lets out a breath, not that it makes him feel any better. At least you’re lucid still. 

“Can you sit up?” He hates talking to you like a medic, but he needs to help you. You’re still bleeding, your breaths are coming out in wheezes. He wants to know (though he has a good guess) but he can’t focus on that. When you nod, he’s so gentle in helping you upright. Every flinch makes him want to let go. “Please tell me if you want me to stop.”

You don’t tell him yes, but you don’t tell him no either. The condition you’re in makes him feel like he’s going to be sick.

It takes time, but he wipes the red from your face in smooth motions. He can see the worst of it now- split lip, scuffs and bruises surrounding your once bloodied nose. He knows these wounds well, and it makes him want to throw up every last bite of his meal. 

You’re watching him with a certain kind of fear. Not quite directly, but definitely there. You aren’t afraid of him, and that’s all that matters. 

He wraps you up to the best of his ability, your arms looking more mummified than anything else. You’re not shaking, you still aren’t crying. You stopped meeting his gaze the moment he wrapped your purpled wrists in shame. 

“___,” he comes to sit beside you, terrified. “Are you listening to me?”

Silence.

He reaches out tentatively, wraps an arm around your shoulder. “___?”

You… Fall against him. Your head takes a spot against his shoulder limply, and he latches onto you. 

Finally, the tears fall as you shake against him. 

“I can’t do it,” you sob feebly. “Every day Izuku, I can’t do it.”

“Everyday what?” There’s urgency in his voice. You cry harder.

“I don’t even know what I do wrong anymore he’s just so-… He hates me so much.”

Midoriya remembers seeing him, that darkness in his eyes. His eyes narrow at nothing, his fingers bringing you closer. Despite the agony you try to become closer, you try to hide against him, and he lets you. You weep openly for the first time with your face buried in the crook of his neck.

“I can’t, I can’t, he’ll kill me if I ever come back-” Midoriya’s arms wrap around you. “He hates me so much- He- He said if I come back he won’t hold back-”

“You’re not going back.” He presses his lips to the top of your head and he holds you so fucking close, he shakes just as hard as you do, he feels rage and fear and everything under the sun beneath his skin but he doesn’t dare let you go. “You will not go back to him, do you hear me?”

When you pull away to see his face, he’s crying too. They’re angry tears, he’s furious, but he’s more terrified than anything else. 

You feel exposed when his arms leave you but soon enough those scarred hands are on either side of your face, they’re holding you, thumbs swiping softly against your damp cheeks. He doesn’t even bother wiping his own eyes. 

“I will never let him hurt you again,” he’s been dying to say it since he connected the dots. “Ever. He’ll have to come through me.”

The way you just crumble to pieces cuts him to the bone. Your wails threaten to wake his mother but he can’t find it in himself to care. Let her wake. Let her see the damage your father has done, let her burn him to the ground. 

“I’m sorry,” you sputter, fingers digging into the fabric of his night shirt. “I’m sorry.”

He’s sure that you don’t even know what you’re apologizing for. For never telling him, for lying, for showing up like this, none of it matters to him but it matters to you and he wishes he could take it all way. 

But all he can do is pull you against him, chest to chest, wrap his arms around the trembling muscles of your back, and cry, “It’s okay. It’s all okay, don’t you dare think it’s not for even a minute.”

You’re both babbling to each other, you with apologies, him assuring that it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay, you’re safe now, he will never touch you again.

Over your shoulder he can see the clock on the wall. It’s 4 now, the two of you have class in the morning, but there isn’t a thing in the world that could pry you off of him. His hands hold too tightly, his arms locked in place. 

“Izuku,” you hiccup, and he feels it in his heart. “I don’t wanna go back.”

“You won’t. You’re staying right here.” He buries his face into your hair. “For as long as I’m here I won’t let him hurt you ever again. I love you too much to see you like this.”

I love you too much to see you like this.

At many points of his life, he’s imagined how he would confess to you. Under a sky full of stars, at a beach during fireworks, in the schoolyard on a warm spring day. Never like this, but yet… It feels right. You nod against him, you hear him, still crying. 

“Thank you,” you cry, “Please don’t let go of me.”

“Never.” His eyes shut, his hands press flat and smooth over your bruises. “From now on, I’ll always have you. Please just… Just don’t hide from me anymore.”

You shake your head. “Never again. I’m sorry I never told you, I was so scared.”

“Of what? That I wouldn’t believe you?”

“I don’t know, I just…” You sniffle, trying to breathe. “I didn’t want you to know. I didn’t want you t-to worry, or to think lesser of me.”

Midoriya shakes his head. “I will never think lesser of you.”

You pull away and wipe your eyes, and then you reach out and wipe his away too. “Do you promise that?”

He nods. “I promise.”

Your head falls, but it’s not tragic. You’re so fucking tired, and he knows this, he knows you’ve been through hell and back. He knows you still have miles of darkness to go. He doesn’t want you to wallow in that, so he reaches out again. It’s not easy maneuvering to lay down, you beside him, on the length of the couch, but he gets it done. Never once do his fingers let you go, even then, tugging against him protectively.

“Your stomach, does it hurt?” He asks, dragging the blanket from the back of the couch. 

“Yeah, but…” You shift against him, sniffling once more. “I don’t think anything’s broken. It’s been worse.”

If not for your safety against him, in his arms and on his couch, he would have felt the rage like adrenaline. Just that one line was stronger than any plus ultra move. His lips quiver but he bites it down.  

“You’ll be okay,” he whispers as you tuck your head under his chest. “I’ll make sure of it. This will never happen again.”

You murmur a thank you with the quietest voice he’s ever heard. In the morning, he’ll have so much to face. Recovery Girl will have to be filled in, no matter how much you want to move on without a sound. His mother will have to know, though she likely guessed it years ago when she met him. 

Midoriya’s hands find the small of your back, and the way you finally relax against him makes him breathe out a sigh of relief. He’ll skip school tomorrow, see Recovery Girl with you, do everything necessary for you to never return to that home ever again. 

But for now, he just holds you. He pets the tremors out of your skin, and he matches his breathing with yours, until finally it softens into quiet snores. He kisses the top of your head, and he vows that from that point on, you will never feel this pain ever again. 

[mjwiththefangs]

Beautifully Deadly (NaLu) #1

Chapter 1

Vampire/Supernatural AU

Rating: M

Summary:  "Supposedly an entire kingdom disappeared when their queen went beyond the borders, remember?" When Natsu Dragneel leaves the kingdom to investigate mysterious disappearances, he finds a much bigger adventure than he was bargaining for, including a beautiful vampire hidden away in an ancient castle. She has little to say about her past, or why she's locked away. Who did this to her? What has she been feeding on? One thing Natsu knows for sure that she is dangerous... Could she have something to do with the disappearances? "I'm sorry, Natsu, but I'm just so thirsty."

Chapters: 1 , 2 , 3 , 4 , 5

Read it on: AO3 & FF.net

A/N: Hello! So, some of you may have seen this posted before, and i decided that, to make it easier to navigate this story, i’d create and organise a side blog with links to all the chapters :)

The idea for this had been on my mind for a long time, and now im finally committing to writing it up! I hope you enjoy!

'What were you?' he breathed, eyes fixed on the blonde beauty before him, 'before, I mean. What were you?' He added hastily.

She quickly masked a startled expression, and narrowed her eyes on him, 'I don't know what you mean.'

But he saw. Behind those dark honey eyes, he saw the flicker of grief, pain and surprise. She turned away from him, golden hair shining with the starlight.

'I was always a monster.' She hissed.

He clutched his side, ground his teeth together and dragged himself from the ground. His other hand brushed pink bangs from his face, running through unkempt hair and over long horns. He steeled himself and spoke again,

'No. I meant before you became a vampire. You can't fool a dragon's nose, you weren't born a human.'

She froze, rigid, back still turned from him. He knew that she would hear his heart hammering in his chest, but it wasn't from fear. No, it was the anticipation.

He gripped his side tighter. Something red and sticky clung to his fingers. He could feel his vision blurring. He swayed backwards, once again leaning on the wall.

He was met by darkened honey eyes, burning red, invading his personal space. Had he the energy left, he would have startled. Her tongue wet her lips quickly. Sharpened fangs protruding her mouth. Those eyes burned a deep scarlet now, flitting between his wound and his jugular.

He swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing.

'Lucy...' he whined her name softly, feeling his consciousness slipping away.

Gentle hands held him upright. Before he fell back to the blackness, he heard her whisper,

'I'm sorry, Natsu, but I'm just so thirsty.'

1 month earlier

He had been walking through the main town, heading to the stables, a pack on his back when he was stopped.

‘Natsu!’

At the sound of his name being called, the young man turned around.

‘Whats this I hear about you goin’ off on some adventure on your own?’ the owner of the voice accused; a young man with raven hair and dark blue eyes.

Natsu grinned at him, holding up his hands in mock surrender,

‘Alright, Frostbite, you caught me!’

The young man was Gray Fullbuster, Natsu’s best friend, and at times, his biggest rival.

‘Natsu, c’mon man.’ Gray protested, ‘if you're not telling where you plan on going, then it can only mean that you’re going beyond the borders!’ he waved his arms once, as though this would help get his point across. It failed however when his hand absently drifted to tug on his shirt.

Natsu sniggered, ‘nah, I could just be runnin’ away!’

Grays’ scowl deepened. He had now discarded his shirt, much to his friends’ amusement.

‘Natsu, you know how strict the King is about not leaving our borders, and for good reason, we don't know what's out there.’

Natsu straightened up now. He was planning an adventure, that was true. He was also planning on going beyond the borders. But he hadn't told anyone because he knew they would all try to stop him. So, in the dryest tone he could muster, he replied,

‘Sure, it's not like we already got a nest of dragons, an ice devil, or a she-devil living here.’

Gray, the ice devil in question, was fiddling with the buckle on his pants.

‘You got me there.’ he admitted, ‘but I still think you're being stupid, Flamebrain.’

Natsu shot an irritable look at his friend, snorting smoke at him,

‘Ice Princess.’

‘Pryo jerk’

‘Icickle moron’

‘Idiot.’ Gray said flatly, ‘Look, just, whatever your planning, don’t do it. People have disappeared out there. Supposedly an entire kingdom vanished when their queen went beyond the borders, remember?’

Natsu stilled at that. He’d heard the rumours, sure, but it was different hearing it from Gray. His father was part of the royal guard and up until recently had been the captain.

‘Silver still investigating that?’

‘Yea, both him and Erza are.’ Gray shrugged, ‘She told me you were sneakin’ off, by the way’

At that, a shiver ran up Natsu’s spine. Although the woman had been their friend from childhood, she was ferociously scary and had sent both of them to the healer on several occasions.

‘Ah.. Right.’ If Erza suspected him, then Natsu wouldn't have much time to start his impromptu trip. In truth, he had a hunch about these disappearances, and he intended to check it out himself. That would be difficult now though.

‘And what’s with the pack?’ Gray asked with suspicion.

Natsu put on his best grin for his friend,

‘it’s just fish for Happy!’ Which it was. He would need his beloved feline to stay quiet for his escape. But Gray didn't need to know that. Sheepishly rubbing his hair, he added,

‘I kinda took it when the cook wasn't lookin’. Happy likes the good stuff.’

Gray sighed,

‘So is that why Erza thinks you’re up to something? You know you shouldn’t even be in the King’s kitchens.’

Natsu shrugged. He was hoping his friend bought it. It wasn’t that he was lying to him, no he’d been completely honest so far, he was just missing out a few details.

A few big details.

He decided his chances of slipping away smoothly would be better if he left in the night. He  turned back towards the stables,

‘I’m heading to the barn now to feed him before I get caught.’ he jabbed a thumb in the direction he was going, ‘you stalking me there too, stripper?’

At the insult, Gray glanced at himself and swore under his breath. He was only wearing his undergarments, having shed his clothes during their conversation. Muttering to himself, he began to gather his clothes, shaking his head,

‘Nah, I’ll catch up to you later. Stupid habit..’

Natsu smirked, giving a brief wave as he strode away. He heard Gray shout after him once more,

‘Don’t do anything stupid!’

He waved behind himself, a shadow cast on his back.

.

Happy purred with delight when Natsu walked into the barn, rubbing himself on his masters’ legs and meowing for attention. Natsu grinned and pet the blue feline on the head,

‘Hey, buddy.’

He stopped by the cats' bowl, crouching down beside it, slinging his pack from his shoulder. He would need some fish to placate the cat later in the night, so pulled the smallest portion from his pack. Happy meowed louder, pouncing on the bowl.

Natsu chuckled, pet the feline again and straightened up. The barn was normally a pleasant hub of activity, being managed by the She-devil’s popular and polite younger sister, another shapeshifter. However, in the quiet afternoon light, the barn was empty, save for the horses (including a unicorn and a couple pegasi) and Happy. Natsu knew which stall he looking for, clucking his tongue softly as he approached.

He was answered with a whinny and saw the head appear over the door.

‘Hey boy..’ He reached out to pet his horse, rubbing the large face.

The wooden nameplate on the door was carved with ‘Atlas Flame’, and there hadn't been a horse as well suited to his name as this one.

Flame was a large chestnut stallion, fire occasionally flicking among the long strands of his mane and standing over 17 hands high. His coat shone as bright and bold as any of Natsu’s fire. He had once belonged to Natsu’s Father, Igneel, but had been gifted to him when it was decided the spirited stallion suited him well. Flame usually didn't take kindly to anyone other than Igneel even approaching him, as strong-willed as he was. Yet Natsu with his care-free attitude had struck up a good bond with the horse, surprising everyone who knew the stallion.

‘We’ve got a late ride out this time boy. I'm not sure when we’ll be back.’ Natsu spoke quietly, afraid of being caught in his plans, but took comfort in his sharpened senses telling him he was alone.

Flame snorted and nuzzled his shoulder. Natsu chuckled,

‘I’ll be sure to bring extra carrots.’ He promised.

He unlatched the door and walked inside. He had wanted to check that Atlas Flame was still fit for the journey ahead. He ran his hands down the stallions’ legs, checking the hooves, and then felt along his back.

Flame seemed to watch with amusement. Natsu was satisfied, patting him again, and reached the door. Flame snorted and returned to eating hay as Natsu left.

His next destination was the tack room, to do a quick once over of his equipment.

Once he was done, Happy sat by the barn entrance, as though waiting for him, the sun beginning to set in the sky behind him.

‘You coming back with me today buddy?’

In response, white wings sprouted from the cats’ back.

He grinned again. Despite being Draconic, Natsu couldn’t sprout his wings without feeling furious and subsequently setting fire to everything in his immediate vicinity. His horns were a different story. He just forgot to “put them away”.

‘You giving me a lift or just going to the roof?’

The answer to his question, it turned out, was the latter.

Natsu laughed and set off running for home in the dusk.

.

He had wanted to visit his Father before he left, He really had. But he knew that he wouldn’t be able to leave easily. He knew they would be worried. He knew that they would come here to look for him, in his rustic home.

His house was on the same land as his fathers. It wouldn't be long before someone came to look for him. So, he hastily scribbled a note, explaining he would be back soon, he had a lead, and not to worry.

He left the note in his house, in plain sight, so it would be easy to find when they came looking. Then, he slipped out under cover of darkness to the stables, bade Happy farewell with a pile of fish, tacked up Atlas Flame and rode off into the night.

.

In the dead of the night, there was chaos.

The bells tolled, ringing out the alarm.

The titania, Erza Scarlet, rallied the royal guard.

A white-winged, blue-furred cat meowed and took off to the skies in the direction of his master.

Gray cursed from his house, muttering under his breath,

‘That damned idiot!’

He watched knights running the streets, calling the urgent announcement,

‘King Igneel’s son is missing! Prince Natsu is gone!!’

[dxrkblaze]

Give ME ALL FOR THAT MEME BC IM A HO N I LOVE UR WIRITNG U FUCK

this just in: ru is gay and I love her HHDGSHHDDL THAnk u sm homie I cri,,, ❤️❤️

1) of the fic you’ve written, which are you most proud of?Hmm… probably all my colors? Like, there’s a lot I’d like to go back and change, but at the end of the day it was my baby for a good two plus years and there’s a lot of personal stuff sprinkled in there. It kinda shows my emotional progression throughout high school in the story, and while that’s def not why I wrote it, it’s cool to go back and look at it sometimes to see the things I used to say/think about. Plus it’s one of the only massive projects of mine that I’ve actually completed, lol.

Also I have a lot of love for amc just bc it’s so… different, I guess? Like, I’ve never really seen something like it fleshed out into a full-length story, especially not with silver and blaze. And the fact that it rlly touched several ppl and got them rlly into it… that makes me feel kinda accomplished when I’m not being a self-deprecating prick lmao. I rlly rlly wanted it to be my first fic to get to 100 reviews for a reason!

2) favorite tense (past/present/future)Definitely past, I tried present with the unforgiven and it just made it frustrating to write, lmao.

3) favorite POV (first/second/third/etc)I prefer writing in first person, actually. I think it simplifies things for both the writer and reader, and I’ve always found a lot more freedom to be creative when I write in first person.

4) what are some themes you love writing about?Lmao well, obviously romance is priority one for me, so most of my themes stem from that. I rlly love writing about class struggle tho, whether it’s someone low who’s aiming high or a noble who isn’t satisfied with such a high class. Morality also comes up a lot in my writing, I guess; tryna figure out what the right thing to do is, tryna figure out if this character actually did the best thing, all that good stuff!

5) what inspires you to write?Definitely music… sometimes I’ll stray from it and pick up some inspo from movies/stories/etc, but 99% of the time I’ll be listening to a song and suddenly come up w a fic idea from it lmao.

6) thoughts on critiqueI encourage it!! bc I think it’s the only real way to improve. Sometimes it can make me feel bad if I’m in one of those rlly shitty self-deprecation ruts, but still I usually get over it soon even when I’m like that. I know it’s for the better, and I appreciate everyone who’s ever been kind enough, and cared enough abt my writing to give me critique!

7) create a character on the spot…. NOW!UMMMM OKIE,,, what abt a snow leopard named Kyra… she likes to sit around n read n eat noodles… her main hobby other than reading is dancing. she’s v shy but she loves her close friends n BAM I just made her gay. She’s a lesbian, harold.

8) is there a character you love writing for the most? the least? why?Most - probably silver… his personality is always one I’ve gotten a lot of joy out of writing. He’s basically a walking contradiction, lmfao. He’s also pretty easy for me to self-project onto, idk why. Least - I���m gonna say amy for this one, just because it’s been hard for me to focus on more than one aspect of her personality and flesh all of it out. Plus amy is a somewhat overused character lol, I get a lot more fun out of writing blaze/tikal/others when I need a female role, even if it’s something simple

9) a passage from a WIPOh u kno I gotta dip into royalty au for this one 👀

–

It was nearly a fortnight before any word was received from King Pyrus. It came in the form of a small parcel addressed to Blaze, which held a note inside for her. The young princess jumped at the feet of the servant who had brought it in, and once it was lowered into her hands, she hurried to her chamber. Once there, she closed the door behind her and jumped on her bed, unable to contain her excitement. With a careful claw and an eager expression, she tore the parcel’s paper away. Before looking at what it contained, she snatched the note from her father, and brought it to her face. It read:

My Little Flame,

I am sorry I could not write to you sooner. I remain busy, but I finally began exploring, and I found something I think you will simply adore. It is a traditional robe (I believe it is called a kimono) from here in the Eastern Isles. It is just as beautiful as the land, and just as special as you are to I, my dear. We must make plans to bring you here one day, it astounds me each time.

Do not fret about the ongoings in the world, how ever much you have heard. Kiniti watches over us at all times, and she will ensure peace among all kinetics. Hopefully, I will depart in the coming few days, and we will see one another soon.

With love,Father Flame

Blaze, of course, merely skimmed over the second half of the note as a formality. She laid the message aside, and her jaw dropped once she held the kimono out. It was a beautiful shade of dark purple, with an equally enchanting design. Trails of dainty cherry blossoms sat on rugged branches, which climbed up either side of the robe. The silk seemed to melt between Blaze’s fingers; it was the softest material she had ever felt. She rubbed one of the sleeves against her cheek, and purred into it. When she turned the robe over, she gasped. A large, pink bow was already tied at the back, as if it had been made just for her. She slipped the kimono over her shoulders, and although the sleeves hung low over her arms, the length was just right. Blaze tied the pieces of ribbon at her waist, just as Pyrus had taught her, and words could never express how delighted she was with the gift. She could not wait to show her father once he returned.

As Blaze was fitting her tail through the bow on her back, Baxton entered the room. Whenever Pyrus was absent, it was usually Baxton who took up the king’s general duties. He signed letters, addressed the people, attended court; it kept him quite busy. The only responsibility he didn’t inherit was any control of he army - the sole post he would be familiar with. Quite the chore it was, but Baxton was always fond of his temporary sovereign role. At least in terms of the power he held, that is. In fact, Blaze assumed that he had been yelling at some servants not too long ago, judging by his flushed face.

The elder cat scratched his head. “Princess, did the king leave a letter?”

Blaze pointed to the note on her bed. Baxton scurried to it, and frowned as he glanced over the elegant handwriting. “Is this it?” he quizzed.

The princess nodded, and held her arms out with a smile. “Look, Baxi! Look at what father sent me!”

Blaze couldn’t quite tell what Baxton’s expression conveyed, but it was something between a smile and a scowl. The note crumpled in a quick motion from Baxton’s fist, and was thrown back onto the bed cover. Blaze didn’t think much of this as Baxton hurried out, and she walked to her mirror to admire the kimono again.

–

10) what are your strengths wrt writing?Hmm… I get a lot of ppl saying that I’m pretty eloquent when it comes to phrasing/word choices? I’m constantly tinkering with how things are said, even up until like 30 seconds before I publish smth lmao. I also like to think I never just string sentences together and leave it at that when I’m narrating, I pay a lot of attention to how different sentences/phrases flow together.

11) what are your weaknesses wrt writing?My main weakness would probably be going overboard on all the little things, like how a sentence sounds or flows and stuff like that. I end up being a perfectionist with it, and sometimes when I’m crafting/changing phrases around, I end up with a sentence that kinda drags on or tries to do too much.

12) what’s your favorite place for writing resources?Tumblr’s pretty good for me, actually. I rarely ever seek out resources, but I do reblog a lot of them that come to me here and they’ve been very useful to me in the past.

13) who are your favorite writers?Ok first off binch u@aurora-boring-alis (FF: aurora-boring-alis) Then my other peeps who also make the quality goodness™™ I can’t get enough of (some fanfic accounts more active than others)@maliwarm (FF: biteworsethanbark) @lordoftheghostking28 (FF: lordoftheghostking28) @weezernaut (FF: space mercutio)@ebachan (wattpad: witto150)