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#I'm going for at least 3.1k words overall I need this
slimeybones · 1 year
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"I'll have this released by the 21st"
-glances at 225 word unfinished chapter-
"Yeah. It's coming along"
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coffee-and-tea-time · 2 months
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𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ Out of the menu, still the choice ๋࣭ ⭑
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Yandere! Shopkeeper x Willing! Reader
We finally got a winner! *Clap clap* if you want context, you can go here but it's not that necessary we think - the twins
This mf was really more hard to write that I expected but nevertheless we tried to match the energy of the seller pickers so at least it was really fun ngl - Coffee
It took us both a while to draft what we wanted to write for him since he's not a very expressive character and we wanted to try a more subtle approach. If you have any ideas or suggestions for any of them, let us know!! -Tea
Count word: 3.1k (new longest post for now)
Tw: yandere behavior, kind of flirty reader, stalking, kidnaping?, written in you/yours, overall soft yandere, gaslighting, drugging (this really still counts as soft yandere??? believe me, yes), light paranoia, clueless reader
Your eyes scan the papers in your hand, your mind still focused rather on the man that handed you them, sitting right across from him, more specifically, the comment he just murmured. None of the people he mentioned called your attention as much as himself did, perhaps he was more that he presented himself as? He seemed to know much more about you than he’s supposed to, so, was he a yandere as well? And if so, Why miss the chance to tease a potential yandere? 
"Huh, so you think I should go out more often?"
"Well, I'm just concerned about your vitamin D intake, that's all. You need more sun Dear, for the sake of your health"
He smugly smirks at you like he's saying obvious facts that you should already know about yourself… though his smirk falters, his lips pressing into a tight line as he rethinks his words, though it was too late to retract them, it was your time to shine.
"Oh? Then why not help me with that yourself? You seem to keep a good track of my time outside for some reason, care to explain yourself, Honey?"
You steal his previous smirk, it now decorating your lips, curving them upwards smugly as he seems to sink into himself, his pen flipping between his fingers as a nervous fidget, scanning your expression, seemingly trying to understand what you were attempting to do with these witty remarks.
“Dear, allow me to remind you, you came all the way here to have an obsessive partner after you walk out this door, I'm sure anyone in the list will love to fulfill the job, sadly, I'm not one of them, I'm deeply sorry if my previous comments left any space for this misunderstanding"
He seems to lifts up a wall between you and him with his formality as if attempting to keep things formal and cordial though his eyes tell a different story, his eyes, akin to a snake’s narrow slightly, scanning your features as if daring you to continue this charade; a sweet chill runs down your spine, which only widens your smile further.
"Ow, come on, there's no need to lie so blatantly to my face, you know exactly why I'm here, and for that I can also tell exactly what is happening here”
He huffs, his fingers running through his black hair, messing up his slick back hairstyle into something much more fitting to match with his semi-formal attire.
"As I just said, I'm not a yandere, let's stop this little game, Dear, I’m not sure how you arrived at this conclusion, little detective…"
Those gray eyes glare at you without even missing a beat, narrowing further to make a subtle warning: quit fooling around. Do you care? No, honestly, him staring down at you only serves to fuel your burning curiosity about the man.
"Fine then, at least answer me this, how did you know i don't go out much?"
The man scoffs as if the answer was as obvious as looking in a mirror.
"Come on now, you are chronically online, I just made a lucky guess"
… Gotcha
"My screen time is something even weirder for you to know for certain though, don't you think?"
A silence ensues, tension and realization thick in the air as his posture changes completely, from relaxed and smug to tense and anxious, he leans forward, eyes avoiding you suddenly, like he wasn't piercing you with his stare just a few seconds ago.
You let your question linger, knowing you won, knowing he had no way to protest your question seamlessly 
"... don't tell management"
It was now your turn to sigh. Perhaps he was being truthful and this was just a big misunderstanding. Maybe his “background check” on you wasn't something he was supposed to do ethically speaking, but something he felt compelled to do. Then again, they did have this incident with a fool attempting to illegitimately make a yandere harem. Perhaps it was time to let this go, you tried at least, but being overly pushy could get you kicked out and leaving empty handed wasn't something you were willing to do after finally finding the courage to enter the shop.
 "Well, I don't know, I choose Oliver"
You said, the smirk in your lips faltering into a soft defeated smile, shrugging as you chose someone at random, pointing blindly at the papers.
"He's already purchased" 
He counters your response abruptly, his tone still formal yet with an air of defensiveness. You wondered, if he was already purchased, then why show it to you at all?
"Damn, okay, then Lio…"
You quickly point again at a random profile, barely even reading the name then scanning his expression, his head shaking even before you managed to pronounce the name fully.
"Sorry"
He responded with a shrug, his shoulders relaxing as if the tension he felt before was gone.
You smile at him once again, well, thankfully you weren't just flirting with the wrong target.
"You’re doing this on purpose"
You announce, amused by the realization, a smile widening in your lips as one seems to simultaneously tug at the corners of his, a mischievous grin adorning his sly stare, those eyes bearing into yours like a wicked fox.
"You choose me, be loyal to your own decisions… though, really, don't tell management. I do maintain I'm not some sort of obsessed maniac, Dear"
That's the most suspicious thing a person can say in a yandere shop but you take it.
"I care next to nothing about management… so, it's a date?".
(...)
You leave the store, hands empty, but not really. You walk with an extra cheer in your step, you managed to get yourself a date with the seller of the damn shop, not one of the many names in those papers, but the shopkeeper, talk about a plot twist. 
And so you make your way back home, waiting for the time to arrive, the time in which you'd meet up with the man outside of work in a sweet little restaurant down the same street where the shop is located. As you get yourself ready, checking your outfit, double checking…triple checking, your mind drifts to your conversation with the seller and the way everything he said seemed to avoid each and every one of your questions skillfully. You managed to get his number with the excuse of arranging the meeting time and place, yet… that was all, you didn't even get his name, did you?. 
You are brought back to reality with the buzzing of your phone, a notification from an unknown number… though it was the sellers, how did he get your number? Sure, he gave you his, but he shouldn't have a way to contact you yet, that information wasn't even in the paperwork either since you never filled any forms out, you didn't purchase any of the yanderes. 
» “Hey, it's the shopkeeper”
You raised a brow at your screen, watching as the little dots bobbed up and down, indicating he was still typing another message
» “just checking if you're still up for this date you so boldly proposed. My shift is over” 
His texts are a little dry, yet you can feel the awkwardness from them already, he wasn't fooling anybody, he was nervous as hell. 
You quickly type up a response, resuming your teasing over text like you never left the shop and so you text back and forth until the time arrives and you leave your home, walking down the street to the restaurant he sent you the location to. Once you got there, amusement tugged your lips up into a smile. This man, acting so unapproachable, so closed off, was eagerly waiting outside the restaurant with that classic “I'm just looking at my phone” stance, but damn he looked good. 
He wasn't wearing that semi-formal suit from before, but rather a tight black shirt, jeans and a jacket. His hair was down and you had to admit, it looked way better that way. You check the time on your phone, you arrive just in time, you look relieved but can’t help but wonder how the seller managed to close up shop, go back home, change and arrive before you when his last text was just a few minutes ago telling you his shift was over.
“aw, you arrived early to meet me? It’s so cute how eager you are for someone who didn't even tell me his name”
You meet his gaze as you approach him with a playful demeanor, his smile still decorating his face as always.
He huffs, glancing up from his phone, his eyes crinkling in a mischievous grin. He pockets his phone and adjusts his jacket, leaning a little closer as he speaks
“Oh, Dear, you got it all wrong, i just got here, but, i must say…waiting would have been worth it, you look stunning” 
He said with a soft chuckle and you nudged his shoulder in response to his compliment, though as you nudge him you feel how cold his jacket is, of course he didn't wait for you
“Right, anyways, you know, it's only fair that I get your name. I know you so desperately want to seem all mysterious and shit, but i need to know who I'm flirting with”
You tease bluntly with a chuckle, he tenses up a little, looking away for a second, trying to disguise his blush by rolling his eyes at you.
“I suppose you could call me Jade…”
“Well, jade, pleasure to meet you”
You said trying to imitate his tone of voice as he guides the way inside the restaurant.
“Since I answered your question, it's only fair you answer mine, don't you agree?"
His gaze seems like he's taking notes of your every expression as he gently pulls a chair for you to sit on before he sits across from you.
"Are we doing a little bit of banter here? Huh, that's quite the contrary of what you been doing all day, but please, go on, I'm thrilled to know what you wish to know of me"
His eyes move to the menu, although you can say his entire focus was still on you… because of the fact he can't possibly read the menu when it's upside down.
"So, if I may ask… why did you choose to flirt with me when you came to the shop to get yourself a yandere?"
"Why not? You could say I went there to find someone that catches my eye, and jokes on you, my eyes were set on you the moment you opened that door to guide me into the store"
You restrain yourself not to giggle like a fool when the top of his ears turns red while he's attempting to keep his perpetually smiling facade, oblivious to his own reaction to your words.
"Then, do yo-"
His words quickly die on his throat as a waiter gets to your table, you didn't have the time to catch the small twitch of his eyebrows that lasted a second.
"Good evening, I will be your server for the night, what can I get started for you two?"
As you two order normally, you can't help but feel a sense of discomfort as the waiter always speaks focusing his eyes on you, but Jade doesn't seem to react so you dismissed it, you're only feeling weird because of the awkwardness of being on a first date, although you can't help but sigh faintly with relief after the server walks away.
"Well… anyways, since I replied to one of your questions, guess it's my turn!"
You said smiling, trying to brush off the weird feeling you just had, focusing on your task in hand: the date.
“so, why don’t you tell me a little about your hobbies?”
You gaze at him while his head tilts slightly, as if doubting if to reply or just dodge the question like the past ones.
“Well, they differ depending on the time, I’m the type of person that get a new one every once in a while but one that has stuck since high school is embroidery”
Honestly, you can picture it, he does seem like the type of person who enjoys calm classy hobbies, old lady hobbies if you will. The image is sort of endearing. 
"Since high school? Wow, what was your first piece?"
You feel relieved that he seems more open to conversation now that you both are formally on this date. Sadly for you and lucky for him, you focused so much on listening to his answers that you didn't catch the small blush dusting his cheeks.
"...It was a skull, edgy, I know. I really like how it turned out back then though”
“A skull? Very edgy indeed, why-”
Your question was left hanging in the air as an arm interfered with your vision of Jade, the waiter placing your plates on the table with a polite smile. The interjection was a little awkward, but there's not much you can do about it, the waiter is just doing his job.
Though as you lower your voice to a stop, interrupted by the waiter, you see the slight hint of annoyance in Jade’s face flick for a second just to disappear like it never happened, it makes you wonder if that was a hint of jealousy? It probably wasn't… your yandere rotten brain must be seeing things, right?
As you two indulge in conversation, enjoying your little date, you almost lose track of time. It feels like in the blink of an eye, the date was already at its final point, the only thing that popped your bubble was his phone ringing.
"...sorry, it's my boss, allow me to step out real quick, it won't take long I'm sure"
You nod to him before he makes his way to the restroom to pick up the call. Honestly you feel kind of sad that the dinner was reaching its end but well, you can't be that clingy on the first date.
As you ponder between when and where the perfect second date will be or if it's best to wait for him to ask for another, the waiter interrupts your thoughts, placing a glass of what looks like raspberry juice on the table.
"Excuse me sir, I didn't order this"
The waiter gives you a puzzled expression as if it were a competition who is more confused by the situation but is quick to giggle as if it was an inside joke of his before reassuring you.
"Oh, don't worry, it's already been paid”
You didn't have time to ask further questions when the busy server was already on another table that needed him, well, it looks tasty anyways, why reject something when it's free?
You honestly feel like luck is on your side today; you got the confidence to try and flirt with Jade and successfully get yourself a really good date! And you also get a free drink as a way to celebrate your little achievement, so you take a big gulp. 
Huh? Weird, you know the taste of raspberry by heart, why does it taste more bitter? Ugh, the fruit is probably not that fresh , even the consistency feels a little thicker too. Well, raspberry juice is supposed to be like that, perhaps you got too used to store bought and got yourself confused.
"Well, is not like a restaurant would sell 'expired juice' as their main drink, surely I'm just overthinking it" 
You reason with yourself in a whisper as you set the drink aside, ugh, maybe you drank too big of a sip, you start to feel like you got brain freeze or something.
(…)
“Dear, are you feeling well? Do you need to go to the restroom?”
The sound of his relaxed voice quickly fills your ears, your mind feels hazy but you nevertheless try focusing on him as he sits back down to the table, catching his expression changing from the usual laid back grin to a worried frown. You didn't even notice when he came back from his work call, not until he was right in front of you, it's like time passed while your brain was stopped, something wasn't good…
"Did something happen? Do you need a pain-killer? Did the food upset your stomach?"
The rapid fire questions overfill your already overwhelmed mind as his hands hold your shoulders before he places his forehead against yours to check your temperature and although you tried, your currently unstable self only managed to hardly mumble some words.
"I… don't know, I just drank that"
You focus your gaze on the glass of juice and he follows your gaze with a frown as if his laid back mask is cracked.
"the color is slightly off and ice is only floating up to the middle of the glass…"
Was there really something wrong with your drink? What was in there? How bad is it? What's going to happen to you? Was it the waiter? Was there someone in the restaurant you didn't see? Why is this happening today?
"Dear, focus on me, okay? Don't worry, you're fine, just dizzy, I will make sure you are okay, alright? Take a deep breath for me darling" 
Through your dizziness you watch as he moves skillfully and quickly, paying the bill as fast as he could to take you out of there, his arms tightly wrapped around you to steady your wobbly stance, guiding you out of the busy restaurant. It's almost as if you were drunk, which didn't make sense, you felt yourself slipping further out of your senses, sounds muffled and your vision blurry, your legs and hands feeling tingly with each step you took with his assistance. 
"Jade, I-"
"Don't worry Dear, I will take care of you, just trust me, alright?"
You can help but feel grateful that even in this awful situation, you managed to have someone so gentle and caring with you, but before you can try to babble a thank you, you feel your mind shut off like an old tv… don't worry, you are being taken care of, Dear.
He just wants to look after you, it would be so creepy if he left you unconscious at your place since he's not supposed to know your address yet, so, guess the only choice is him letting you crash at his apartment, it's fine, you will find yourself at home there, it's really cozy! 
. . .
Wait, did you really believe him? That's kind of hilarious, try guessing again.
sorry for any misspellings or weird sentence structure ❣
images from pinterest and divider by Tea ⚘
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thatmrmiller · 1 year
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Every Man Gets his Wish
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Warnings: 18+ smut, significant age gap, virgin!reader, kinda purity/corruption kink, problematic conversations around the hetero-normative concept of virginity, unprotected sex, power imbalance, cheating, blackmail/ coercion, noncon, forced breeding. Dead Dove, very creepy content, overall discretion advised.
WC: 3.1k
A/N: credit to @serenaxpedro for the prompt, what an idea... Title is from the unreleased Lana song!
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Sarah Miller was your college roommate. You became friends quickly, she was bubbly and personable and you felt as though you had known her for years.
Soon it turned into something else, you weren't sure you were necessarily official, but you fooled around together and dated. Then, one weekend, she invited you to go home with her.
So there you were, in her childhood bedroom. Her dad was out and you were both hanging out the window, sharing a joint. She was giggly at the best of times but combined with the weed, she was downright ridiculous.
"Shhh!" You urged. "What if he comes home?"
"You think he didn't smoke weed in his twenties?" She laughs.
"That's different, you- We-" She pulls a silly expression, waiting for you to go on, but you burst out into laughter before you can finish your thought.
After the joint is finished you lay in bed together, her on her back with her head on the pillow and you on your stomach next to her, kicking your legs up in the air behind you.
You point out a poster on the wall "Who the hell is that?" You ask.
She laughs and gets out her phone. "A band I was obsessed with when I was younger. Listen."
She plays a terrible song, an angsty boyband and you laugh along with her.
You hadn't even heard her dad's truck pull up or him enter the house.
"I had such a crush on him." She admits, showing you a photo of one of the band members.
"Gross." You say.
"I thought you liked guys too?" She responds.
"I do, I guess, but I'm picky."
"What do you mean by picky?"
"Well... I've slept with probablyyyy..." You drag out the word. "I don't know. A few girls at least. But never a guy."
She laughs. "So you're a virgin?"
You throw a pillow at her softly. "I'm not a-" You laugh too. "I'm not a virgin. There's nothing that says you must sleep with a dude to lose your virginity."
She hums, unconvinced.
Neither of you are aware that her dad is standing right outside the bedroom door. He hadn't even meant to snoop, he was just going to knock and tell you he was home. But he was interested in the conversation and listened in.
"I just have never met a guy I was remotely interested in sleeping with. They're so. Bleh." You pull a face as you make the mocking sound and she laughs.
"Well you're in college now so I'm sure that will change."
"College boys are no better than high school boys. They all suck." You giggle.
"I'm hungry." She announces, and jumps off the bed.
Just then, a knock sounds on the bedroom door.
"Can I come in?" A gruff voice sounds.
Your eyes widen in panic, worried he will come in, smell the weed, and lose his shit. You know your own dad would. Sarah sees your nerves and rolls her eyes at you.
"What is it?" She responds.
The door opens and you see Sarah's dad for the first time. He is tall and broad, visibly muscular under his tight dark tshirt. You look away, worried you were staring. But then again, you're high, and paranoid, and you probably weren't.
"Just came in to say I'm home. You girls need anything?" He asks.
"Food." Sarah says quickly. Too quickly. You shoot her a look.
He just laughs, muttering "I wonder why." Then he continues, "Well I went to the store today. There's chips, and, other stuff, I think."
She is already pushing past him.
He watches her go and then his gaze turns to you. He is smirking. He must be able to tell you are squirming with anxiety.
"I don't care about the weed." He says.
Your eyes are still wide in panic. You don't know what to respond.
He walks further into the room, still watching you.
"So..." He says. "You're Sarah's... Girlfriend?"
You feel your cheeks burn with embarrassment.
"Shouldn't you ask her that?" You say. Admittedly, it maybe comes out ruder than you intended.
He laughs and whistles. "Alright. Feisty. I see why she likes you."
You don't respond. You continue to stare at him. You don’t know what he wants from you, and the whole ‘Cool Dad’ thing isn’t particularly impressive to you.
He licks his lips. “Anyway, from what I hear, sounds like you’re a good girl. So I don’t mind.”
You wonder what he means by that and realise he must have heard the conversation that you were having just before he came in. If it was possible, you feel yourself blushing harder.
His gaze is practically painful, you feel so embarrassed. The look on his face tells you that he knows this, and something else behind his eyes tells you he might even be enjoying it.
“I liked what I heard.” He says. You can see his gaze wandering all over you, you are only wearing a vest and shorts. “Always better to skip messing around with boys and wait for a man.”
You don’t meet his eye.
Sarah’s footsteps approach and he goes to leave the room, shooting you a wink.
She enters with her arms ladened with chips, soda, and candy.
You laugh at the sight of her. She closes the door behind herself with her foot.
“What did he want?” She asks, dropping her stash on the bed.
“Oh umm…” You try and think of what to say. “Just asking how school’s going.”
She laughs. “Surprising. He doesn’t take an interest in my degree.”
You just smile back and shrug. You feel bad about lying but you don’t know how to explain that you think her dad might have been creeping on you.
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You lay in bed together, eating snacks and playing on your phones.
After a while, you’re thirsty. “I need water.” You say.
“Go help yourself.” She says, smiling.
“What if your dad’s downstairs?” You ask.
“It doesn’t matter.” She responds.
“But-”
“Don’t be a baby.” She taunts. “You can go to the kitchen without me holding your hand.”
You hit her playfully. She knows you’re not even shy so you don’t have a good excuse as to why you don’t want to go down alone.
You groan loudly and stand up.
“Can I at least get a sweater? I feel naked.”
She gestures to one strewn over her chair.
“Thanks.” You say. You put it on and it drowns you, covering your shorts.
You tiptoe down to the first floor quietly, not wanting your movements around the house to be easily noticeable.
You hear the television on as you get to the bottom of the stairs and realise he is in the living room, you would have to walk directly past him to get to the kitchen.
You flash him a smile as you pass, and he stares at you. You turn round when you enter the kitchen and he’s still staring, his eyes glued to your ass. He doesn’t even try to be subtle. Gross.
You find the cupboard that contains the glasses and run the tap. You jump as you turn round and find he is standing there, only the kitchen island separating you.
“Cute sweater.” He says, pointing at your chest.
“Umm…” You look down. It has the name of a baseball team on it. “It’s Sarah’s.”
“Actually, it’s mine.” He corrects.
“Oh. Sorry. She gave it to me.”
“Nothing to be sorry about, darlin’. Looks good. Keep it.” He says, nodding.
You don’t argue, but it’s not like you are actually going to keep it. You’ll just take it right back off and give it to Sarah. You only put it on so you didn’t attract his attention. It unfortunately had the opposite effect.
You have dealt with creepy guys before, but you have never been in their house. It is so much more intimidating. The fact he was attractive made it harder too, drawing you to him despite the obvious danger he posed.
You offer him a stiff smile and go to make your way round the kitchen counter and past him. He sidesteps and blocks your path.
An awkward laugh escapes you, and you look up at him.
He watches you, smiling. The tension is getting to you. He doesn’t make any move out of your way.
“What do you want from me?” You whisper.
“What? Nothing, sweetheart.” He says, frowning in confusion.
For a moment, you thought he was being genuine and you think you might have been reading this all wrong. Guilt twinges at you and you consider the situation. Maybe he was just lonely and awkward. Maybe Sarah didn’t have people round often and he was genuinely trying to be welcoming in his own way.
But he still doesn’t move.
“Excuse me.” You whisper.
He reaches a hand out to touch your face. You recoil but he pursues you, taking another step closer.
He runs his thumb across your lips.
“Funny. What you said earlier about being a virgin. It’s so obvious to me now.” He says.
You freeze in place, feeling your face heating in shock and embarrassment.
“There’s this… Look in your eyes. And how shy and embarrassed you get, how much you blush.” He says softly. One of his hands is gently stroking at your face, his thumb still tracing your bottom lip.
You try not to meet his eye, desperately looking for something else to focus on.
“Maybe you could use a lesson.” He muses.
“Mr Miller I-”
He finally steps away. “Hey, no pressure. I’m just kidding.”
Then, as you walked away, he slapped your ass.
You curse yourself for moments ago considering giving him the benefit of the doubt. He knew exactly what he was doing.
You couldn’t turn to face him so you scurried back up the stairs. You heard him chuckle behind you and your skin crawled. What was this guy’s problem?
You slammed the door behind you after hurrying into Sarah’s room.
“Woah.” She says, looking up to take in your expression. “What’s wrong?”
She reaches out to you and you climb onto the bed beside her.
You try to smile but it’s stiff and you feel closer to tears than anything.
“I don’t know. Bad weed I think. I feel so weird.”
You couldn’t tell her what was going on with Mr Miller. You barely understood yourself, never mind trying to explain it.
“Come here, chicken.” She says, reaching out and pulling you into her chest. You laughed a little at the nickname you had for each other.
Her sweet scent and warmth lulls you to sleep.
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You wake up in the early hours of the morning needing to use the bathroom.
You pad barefoot across the hall and into the main bathroom. As you wash your hands, there is a soft knock at the door. You are still dazed from sleep and you open it.
You are instantly pushed backwards and the door closes again. Mr Miller.
He presses you into the counter immediately. He seems to have been drinking the whole time you have been asleep, his eyes a little glazed over and his movements slightly off balance.
“How you doin’?” He slurs.
“I’m fine, please-” He grinds into you, you are pinned against the counter and both his arms are either side of you, caging you in.
“Please, don’t do this.” You plead.
“What?” He says. “What don’t you want me to do?”
“I don’t know- just, any of this, please. I didn’t ask for any of this.”
“I think you did ask for it, baby. Think you’ve been asking for it all night. You came into my house, you bragged about never having been fucked before, and you expect me not to take that as a challenge? Paraded around in my clothes in front of me, with your ass out like a whore? Huh? That’s not asking for it?”
You feel tears forming in your eyes. “Bragging? No, honestly, that was a private conversation. One that you were not supposed to be involved in.”
“This is my house. Nothing that happens under my roof is private from me. Don’t be disrespectful.” He spits.
Your fear and discomfort turns into frustration. “Is this what you do? Force yourself on all of Sarah’s guests? I should go tell her.”
You try to push past him but he grabs both of your wrists and pushes his groin harder against you. You can practically taste the alcohol on his breath because of how close he is to you.
“Maybe I’ll go tell her you tried it on with me. She’ll be heartbroken, doll. You’re a real catch.”
You glare at him. This is fully-fledged blackmail.
“And then what ya’ gonna do?” He continues. “College is a long way off. So is home. It’s the middle of the night.”
You swallow your retort, realising he is right. You are technically stuck here, at least until the morning. You try a different tactic, sighing deeply.
“Listen, Mr. Miller, I’m really sorry for all this. I think we got off on the wrong foot. I, I don't want this. Can we just agree to forget all this, please? For Sarah?”
His eyes flash with something violent.
“Don’t bring her into this.”
“Please Mr-”
“Don’t call me that.” He snaps.
“Why?” You say sweetly.
He grabs your hand and forces it against the hard bulge in his jeans. “Because you’re turning me on.”
You could always yell out to Sarah.
As if reading your mind, he brings a hand to your mouth and presses down, covering it. His other hand works it’s way into your shorts. You squirm and try to kick at him but he’s strong and holds you in place.
“No one’s had you before?” He says. “Really?”
He isn’t looking for an answer, as he doesn’t take his hand away that is gripping your mouth.
“I haven’t fucked a virgin in years.” He says.
Your skin crawls at the thought as he continues to rub the outside of your underwear. You are doing all you can to avert your gaze and avoid his eyes, not wanting to see the sick look of pleasure he is bound to have behind them.
His fingers are rubbing through your folds, it is unpleasant, you aren’t getting wet because you are so uncomfortable. He takes his hand out and spits on it before forcing it back into your underwear, roughly inserting two fingers inside you.
He groans as he pushes them inside of you, you continue to whimper against the hand he has pressed to your mouth. He curls his fingers deep inside you and the stretch is painful.
He flashes you a dangerous look and hisses "Don't make a sound."
He removes the hand covering your mouth and you are intimidated into doing as he says, keeping quiet.
With both hands he tears off your shorts and underwear, and spins you round so your ass faces him and you are looking in the mirror.
You close your eyes, not wanting to see him or yourself as the situation unfolds. You feel him unzipping his jeans behind you and the heavy weight of his erect cock hits your ass. You feel him stroke himself a few times before gripping your thighs and spreading them apart, lifting one of your knees up to the counter and shifting himself to enter inside of you.
"Please don't-" You whimper, your voice weak and quiet.
He hisses at you to be quiet again.
He rubs his cock through your folds a couple of times before bringing it to your entrance. You gasp as he pushes it into you mercilessly, you are tight and unprepared. He stuffs himself inside you all the way to the hilt and tears threaten to spill from your eyes.
He immediately sets an aggressive pace, not a care for your discomfort as you squirm under him. His hands grip you roughly, holding you as still as possible to allow him to have his way with you.
After a while, you get used to the feeling and grow numb to the pain of his huge cock piercing into you. He breathes heavily in your ear and you cringe at the intimate sounds, trying your best to shut out all of the sensations, trying not to feel, not to hear, not to watch as he does this.
“Look at yourself, fuckin’ slut.” He says. He pulls your hair so as to lift your head up, forcing you face to face with yourself in the mirror. “Every girl’s good till she takes the right cock. Then look. Turns you all into filthy fuckin’ whores.”
Your expressions are pornographic. Your brows are pulled together and your eyes are practically glazed over. You look cock drunk and ridiculous. You barely have it in you to be ashamed of yourself, as you are starting to enjoy what he is doing to you.
“You’re gonna think of me every time you take another cock.” He hisses in your ear. “You’re never gonna have anyone again without wishing it was me fucking this tight little cunt.”
You don't respond, your eyes drifting closed. He grips your face roughly. "Keep them open. Watch yourself. You like it."
He shows no mercy with his rough thrusts, but his pace eventually begins to slow. "Gonna fill you with my cum. You want that?"
You look at him in panic and he seems to enjoy that, a twisted grin appearing on his face once again.
"P-Please, no-" You stutter. "Please don't-"
"Shut up and take it." He grunts, his thrusts somehow feeling deeper than ever as he ruts into you.
After a few moments he releases a strangled groan and stills inside you. You feel his hot release leaking into you and you let out a sob. He watches you in glee as he pulls out and your legs shake, struggling to steady yourself against the counter.
He tucks his cock into his jeans and you keep your eyes pressed shut, you can't look at him.
“You’re welcome back any time, honey.” He says.
He exits the bathroom and you are left to deal with your girlfriend’s dad’s cum dripping down your inner thighs.
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elriel-oblivion · 4 years
Text
So it's been four days so here's part two 😁 Just wanted to say a huge thanks to everyone who read/liked/commented/reblogged the last part! It was such an amazing response, especially given it was my first time posting my writing here, so thanks for all the love you shared 🥰🥰
Heads up, this part is actually part one from Elain's pov. Initially I wanted to continue from where the last part left off in Elain's pov, but as I was writing the background, I realised I'd written too much to just skip when Az gets to the estate and cut straight into a continuation of part one, so I ended up rewriting the whole thing in her view. So there's no new elriel moments, but you'll get a lot of new stuff anyway 😅 I would've said you don't have to read this part to understand part three, but when I was rereading the later parts a few hours ago, I realised there's some stuff that alludes to things in this part, so I strongly recommend you don't skip this 😅😅
Also, wow, some of my fave paragraphs I've ever written are in this part 😁 Bonus points if you can find them; there are four I'm thinking of in particular 😉
Word count: ~ 3.1K. Lemme know if you'd like to be tagged/removed 😊 Next part up in two or three days 😊
AO3
Ashes from the Deep
Part II
__
It had been a pretty uneventful day as Elain worked through her new plant textbook. Feyre and Rhysand had decided to spend the weekend away at the mountain cabin, Cassian and Nesta were away doing things she wished not to think of, and Mor was at the Winter Court.
Amren had only been round in the mornings, probably to check Elain was still alive. She'd glance round the living room, examine some of those fine crystal glasses in the display cabinet and then leave. There was no difference today, though Elain always felt Amren's scrutiny upon her even when that muted silver gaze was directed elsewhere; perusing Rhys' wine collection had become a tired ruse.
So besides preparing and taking her meals with Nuala and Cerridwen, Elain had spent her afternoon with her book, making notes and copying drawings. The twins had gone off on some errands, so she'd wandered into the garden at some point to tend to her many plants, telling them how lovely they each were. The crocuses looked particularly stunning this autumn day, their pale violet colour breathing life into the shades beneath some of the trees.
With her book, she'd identified new weeds, digging into the soil to rip some pesky ones out. Sometimes she didn't want the help of a tool; sometimes she needed to feel those roots on her bare skin.
Harvesting the carrots and beetroot was also on the agenda today, along with seeding for some spectacular displays next year. She'd been collecting the seeds from some of her summer blooms, like those soft clouds of baby's breath, saving them to replant. These she sowed directly into ground she'd prepared days before, her fingers digging into the crumbly clumps of earth.
Autumn onions she'd plant tomorrow, perhaps. Feyre always remarked on how their strong taste complimented meats well, so Elain wanted to harvest some fresh for her sister for once. It'd take a few months of waiting, but there was little else better than picking out and eating food one had grown with their bare hands and the essential ingredients of love and care.
Setting her book on the patio table, Elain surveyed the garden. It was a good day's work. Plants watered and sown, weeds uprooted, and hands sweaty and soiled, Elain was proud of what she'd achieved today. There were no distractions, nothing to take her from the one thing she always found satisfaction in.
After a long shower, she found herself back in the garden with a cup of tea and a blanket. The sunset washed the sky in a blaze of red and orange glory before it yielded to the cool tones of twilight then night. Elain sat in silence, hands wrapped around her mug. How long would it be until someone's arms were wrapped around her, until she felt the warmth her sisters finally had?
Silly, these thoughts. Immortality stretched far ahead, there would be time to develop that companionship. Months and years were but a heartbeat in the life of a High Fae. She wouldn't even notice the years pass.
Or so everybody else kept saying.
With her tea finished, she perused the book of recipes she'd borrowed from Nuala. Some recipes jumped out, ingredients for which she'd been growing for a few months now. Pumpkin pie sounded especially delightful, the gourd having almost darkened and hardened to ripe quality just a couple days ago. They should be ready for harvest tomorrow.
A chill wind sent Elain inside to prepare and have her dinner in pleasant silence. Even her mind was quiet tonight. After washing her dishes, she stood by a bay window, fingers idly tapping the windowsill.
Faelights bobbed like tiny lamps, dotted through the garden. The full moon was now high in the sky, its ghostly glow illuminating the datura flowers she'd seeded half a year ago. She pulled on her blanket and went out again for a better look at those gorgeous blooms, the petals opening only at night.
Elain couldn't be happier she'd found seeds of a triple-flowered variety. They'd grown to produce large trumpets, three layers of petals ruffled against each other. Somehow she thought of her sisters as she crouched and stared at the flowers, each layer so similar, yet fighting for space and breath as it unfurled before another. It was only when they were all fully open that they could sigh along the night breeze as one, an ethereal song of togetherness, tinged with notes of poignancy, only heard by those with the will to look deeper.
The white petals were stained with velvet violet, a true vision in her garden. While the others had given her passing compliments on the flowers, Azriel had seemed stunned the first time he saw them, citing them his favourite of all the plants Elain had grown so far. Something about their shape and contrasting colours, he'd mentioned.
She smiled fondly at the memory, where his eyes sparkled as he reached for one of the soft petals.
Her hand lashed out to grab his wrist. 'Don't touch them; the leaves and stems are highly poisonous.'
His brows rose. 'You wouldn't think that at first sight. But they're beautiful, Elain. Truly magnificent,' he said, his smooth voice so low, a voice that was night given sound. And how befitting, as even those datura flowers seemed enraptured by his presence, one shy petal finally unfurling towards him.
She beamed at him. 'They like you. Flowers like it when you talk to and compliment them - but these ones haven't given me the same reaction as they have to you. I think they really like you, Azriel.'
His answering smile was heartbreakingly tender.
A few more seconds passed before she realised she still held his wrist. She silently let go.
It was a shame she'd have to dig out the datura shrub and move it inside for the winter; it did look magnificent in the moonlight.
The sky shifted past its midnight velvet, and still Elain crouched, admiring the flowers. She shivered in the night's chill. The stars above twinkled and glistened, cold and distant as ever, yet stunning - infinitely more striking than they'd ever been when she was human. A thousand different colours sparkled in that vast expanse, the moon a phosphorescent queen in the centre of her court.
The Night Court truly lived up to its name in the wee hours of the day. Its opulence never failed to mesmerise her; the enhanced Fae eyesight was at least one thing she was grateful for from this body.
Her eyelids became heavy and she yawned. Why was she still out here? It was late into the night; she should be in bed by now. But the night was so beautiful and it was so quiet and she wanted to appreciate it all just once. Just once without the expectations of others, without having to wear that miserable smile all the time.
Of course, it didn't look miserable, which is probably why almost nobody ever bothered to look deeper into Elain. She should be used to it by now, but it still felt - wrong. That most overlooked her so long as she wore a smile. That most didn't think her capable of feeling the utter bitterness and loneliness she had once seen so plain on her sisters' faces.
And in acknowledgement of her sisters' hardships, Elain didn't fault them for not looking, for not seeing her. To see past the thick blanket of darkness in one's own mind was a trial in itself. But it had been years since the war now. And still they didn't notice.
They didn't notice that Elain was being shredded from the inside out.
It was almost laughable. But not funny enough.
No, it was not funny that people still treated Elain like a child, that people wanted to keep Elain in some weird impasse of a stage between child and adult. She'd thought finally carrying out her duty and giving her hand in marriage would show everyone that she was growing up: Elain Archeron, middle born but first married. Of course it was still on her own terms, to a man whom she'd loved. A man who'd seen her through the rubble of her family's lives. But she'd overall hoped doing what was expected of her would be enough.
Clearly not. She didn't even know who she was any more. Did she ever? Everything she'd once yearned for, gone. That fragile human life would soon be just a speck on the horizon of her past.
She sighed. Rebuilding herself was going to take a long time.
But what would she have to do for people to see her, to listen to her? Throw a rage? Fall into a drunken stupor and break a few dozen bottles?
She definitely could, but those were not her. She was Elain Archeron. And so she would wait. Patience wasn't a bad thing at all; she saw it on the shadowsinger's face all the time, that tranquility and calmness she so wished to feel inside.
Azriel. Her heart softened as he entered her mind again, and she dug her fingers into the soil, if only to occupy her fidgety hands. As sure as the chaos of her visions these days, there was a mess of butterflies related to him she wasn't willing to show. Or understand.
Elain and the spymaster? Now that was laughable. Truly laughable. He was wise and patient, while she - well, everyone already thought her a child, and though he listened like no other around her, surely even he couldn't glimpse the adult she so desperately wanted everyone to see.
No, it was foolish to entertain the idea of a relationship with him. No matter how much he saw.
No matter that he was the first to see her since Graysen.
Elain exhaled. She stifled another yawn, smoothing out the soil, then brushed her hands clean. She wrapped the blanket closer around herself and stood. Twinkling stars and velvety darkness and -
There, a knot of shadows materialising at the far edge of the garden, collecting and swirling into a larger mass before Azriel himself stepped out and sagged against a tree. His shadows whirled and obscured him, a dark fire with him burning at the core.
Elain's voice left her throat before she even thought to call him and she ran over to his figure slumped in the dimness.
She couldn't help but say his name again as she neared. 'Azriel!'
Those beautiful hands fiddled with a Siphon, but he looked even worse up close. Fatigue dragged at his body, a second weight to all the muscle and armour he already had to carry. Sweat and dirt clung to him, his hair. At least the shadows were parting, swallowing each other and misting away as they often did around her. Perhaps she should ask someday why they did that. But not today, not when his breathing was so laboured.
She raised a hand - to do what, she had no idea. She couldn't just touch him right now. 'You don't look okay.'
Something else limned his features as he huffed a light laugh and said, 'I'm fine, don't worry.' His voice was raw, so starkly different to its usual icy smoothness. It was common for him to guard his emotions, but in his state, this kind of thinking was just unhealthy. What would it take for him to be honest with her?
'You don't have to pretend with me, Azriel,' she said, lowering her hand. She studied the ground, embarrassed that she'd come up to him. What could she even offer in her pathetic childlike state when he was so clearly affected by his mission right now?
His hand rose. Her heart faltered, she had to do something, and she blurted, 'Can I wash your hair, please?'
His eyes widened, his entire composure crumbling. It wasn't often that the shadowsinger looked startled, but Elain was far too shy to show that she quite liked the effect her question had on him.
'You want to wash my hair?'
His face was so exquisite, it hurt to look at it. His eyes would be even worse; it wouldn't be the first time she was rendered speechless by their kind gaze. A myriad of colours swirled in their glistening depths - gorgeous greens and brilliant browns, all so natural and rich, if only she could look at them long enough to find their matches in the garden around her. Though, his eyes were an entire spectrum of colour in their own right. How would she ever pick out each and every shade?
And if she somehow did have the courage to meet his eyes now, what would she see of herself in their reflection?
A lovesick puppy? A doe-eyed, fearful fawn?
No, she didn't want to know.
So she swallowed and focused on his hair. Perhaps this Fae eyesight was a curse, for even his hair was shockingly fascinating. Only flat black from a distance, the faelights bobbing about the trees highlighted layer upon layer of silky raven locks up close. His hair was so dark it seemed to absorb the surrounding light. Mud stained one side of his head, and it was an effort to keep her hands from brushing it away, so she said, 'I'm positive that's mud and you shouldn't sleep with that in your hair. It'll only take a few minutes.'
He ran a hand through his hair, clumps of dirt falling out.
'You've managed to get some on your face, too.' There were light specks of mud and blood across his face, a more noticeable patch along his cheekbone, thrown into sharper relief by the faelights and his own weariness. Was that a cut beneath the patch? And another on his temple?
She leashed her arms.
What had happened? He wore the signs of a fight, but why would he come here when he knew Elain was the only one home?
His eyes bored into her face, but she refused to meet them. He seemed to lean forward then, stumbling.
Ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous that he wouldn't even acknowledge he was in need. Azriel rarely stumbled. Any fatigue Elain had felt just a while ago was now burrowing down a little longer. Her voice was firm when she spoke. 'I'm washing your hair. It'll help relax you into falling asleep.'
His brows rose, but if Elain stood there one more moment she wouldn't have the courage to do anything for him. For herself - she could take care of someone else. She could do for Azriel what she hadn't done for Feyre all those years as a human.
And for Azriel, she could tend to the male who'd provided her with comfort and safety in this world of distress and danger.
So she pulled him along, clenching her jaw and refusing to look back. Her heart hammered in her chest but she continued, hand wrapped round his armoured arm. Her hand slid down to his wrist but just as she was about to replace her grip, he grabbed her other hand and pulled her into him.
The shadows instantly began to ensconce them, dozens of those cool tendrils twining like vines. The estate loomed huge before them, and Elain gripped Azriel's hand tighter. 
'My bathroom,' she said. Beneath the low whisper of those shadows, her blood thrummed, her heart so painfully obvious against her ribs now. It would be a wonder if the spymaster wasn't aware of it. Though she did hear another flutter above, right by her ear. But as expected, the shadows made quick work of their journey and she didn't have the chance to dwell on it further.
Now out of the comfort of Azriel's hold, Elain set down her blanket and made to grab a chair from her bedroom. His dark presence was so overwhelming that she exhaled lightly as she entered the room and took the chair. She dragged it to the sink, avoiding his gaze, and pulled a towel, soap and a large jug from the cupboard by the door.
As she settled the soap and jug on the sink, she dared a glance at him. He was still clad in full armour, those black scales gleaming like obsidian over his skin, his Siphons glistening jewels across his body. 'I think you'll have to collapse your armour for this,' she said.
He inclined his head and tapped a Siphon, those scales lashing back into each other with cruel elegance. They were a mirror of their master: cold, controlled and unyielding, forged from scintillating darkness. He was a night sky riddled with stars; light existed if only one bothered to look for it.
Azriel's great wings righted themselves as he stood straight, now looking smaller in just his black tunic and trousers. Something about him seemed vulnerable without the armour, so Elain breathed, 'It's beautiful, all of it.' The hulking armour, the classic simplicity of the tunic and trousers, and the male who wore them all.
He was just so wonderful, Azriel. An enigma that could see her own. Her heart clenched.
Azriel rustled his wings, colour blossoming on his cheeks.
Elain blinked and pulled the chair out a little. 'Please sit.' As he sunk down, she rested the towel on his shoulders, hovering her fingers above his forehead. Her body tensed and her fingers remained suspended. It was like a spark of tension flickered in the space between their skin, teasing her, tempting her, taunting her.
After all, she'd offered to wash his hair, an act that would certainly require touching. But why was she so hesitant? She'd touched him before - kissed his cheek, even. Although that had been in the heat of adrenaline, a mark of her gratitude where a simple thank you wouldn't suffice, not for risking his own life for hers.
This was - what was this?
She finally lowered her fingers through that tense spark, pushing his head back against the sink. It was exhilarating, this contact, but he lowered his wings, shifting on the seat. Elain moved into the space he gave, turning on the tap as he went still. Just as her body was taut, taut as the skin of a drum.
She checked the water. Warm. It was time to start.
Azriel was looking up at her. Something like yearning swirled in his eyes.
He looked so tired. It made her heart ache.
'You can close your eyes,' Elain whispered. And he did.
___
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