#but even then I think that he's too far gone now to be really happy. we're past the tragic climax. I think he's ultimately sealed his fate | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tomwambsmilk · 2 years

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This might be my most Controversial post and if you're someone who's genuinely rooting for tom and greg to have their happily ever after in canon then you might not want to read past this point. Just to be perfectly clear I do love tomgreg in both their canon and fanon forms and absolutely no shade to the unironic requited tomgreg truthers, you're the backbone of this fandom and I love your work etc. But. I'm still skeptical of an actual romantic relationship going canon and even more cynical about it actually ending well so, uh. Dead Dove Do Not Eat and all that

I think that Tom being unable to make a really definitive bold choice is intimately related to why I think canonical tomgreg would end in acrimonious divorce (at least with how the characters are at the end of season 3… obviously character development is real and could hypothetically shift the equation). Tom is the literal human embodiment of that fable about the kid who reaches into the cookie jar and gets a huge handful of cookies but then his hand get stuck and he can’t pull it out and he starts crying until someone explains to him that if he lets go all but one he’ll be able to get it out. Except he’s never realized that last part and he’s so afraid of ending up with no cookies at all that he can’t let them go and instead crushes them into dust and tries to eat the crumbs and goes “this is what I wanted actually. This is fine. This is what normal well-adjusted people do and I am Happy.”

It’s deeply rooted in fear and that’s because Tom’s other fatal flaw is being a little bit of a coward. I say this with utmost affection but he’s always hedging his bets and trying to make the safest choice. This is not always a bad thing, but sometimes you do have to make the bold choice just to learn things about yourself. (Or simply because it's the Morally Right Thing To Do but uh. We don't need to get into that right now re: Tom). You have to make a choice and sacrifice something in the process and that’s how you learn what will make you happy and what won’t. Except Tom is so afraid of being unhappy and making the wrong choice that he can never let himself do that, and that’s why he doesn’t really know who he is and what he wants and instead lets himself be defined by societal images of wealth and privilege. He likes expensive things because that’s what he’s supposed to like. He wants to be CEO because that’s what he’s supposed to want. I think if he actually became CEO he would be miserable, in part because of what he’d need to sacrifice to get there but also because being CEO means being bold and taking risks and I think that’s actually his own personal version of hell.

That’s part of why I’m skeptical of tomgreg going canon because I think leaving Shiv for Greg would be an incredibly bold move and I don’t think Tom’s capable of that. Maybe if his marriage fell apart Tom would go for Greg, but then I think he’d very quickly find himself in a “grass is greener” situation. I don’t think he would really actively choose Greg, internally, so much as stumble into that relationship because Greg is there and Greg is the person he’s closest to, and eventually this would eat away at him. That’s NOT to say Tom wouldn’t have very genuine feelings for Greg, but I think stumbling right from his failed marriage into a relationship with Greg would set the whole thing up to crumble and collapse, especially once the weight of Tom’s emotional baggage sets in. There’s going to be a part of him asking himself “do I really love Greg or was he just convenient,” and rather than making the decision to really commit to Greg and see if the relationship can work he’ll start developing an emotional affair with someone else without even realizing what he's doing, because the problem with really making the decision to try and commit to Greg wholeheartedly is what if it ends up being Shiv all over again? What if he decides to be vulnerable with Greg and open up to him and give Greg his emotional fidelity and Greg ends up letting him down?

And because he's incapable of having an emotionally honest conversation he just starts tallying everything Greg does in some mental T-chart of "he loves me/he loves me not". Meanwhile, I do think Greg would be largely taken in, at least initially, by the idea that Tom threw everything away for him and when he realizes that Tom's marriage to Shiv was going to crumble into dust on its own merits anyway he's going to start feeling like a consolation prize and start pulling away and that's going to make the whole situation worse. When the relationship finally breaks down it will be acrimonious because both of them are going to feel upset and betrayed and misled. And that doesn't even begin to factor in Tom's uglier possessive and abusive tendencies and the pressure that remaining at Waystar would put on the relationship and whatever unresolved issues Greg still has around his gay homewrecking dad. Theoretically, they could go to therapy and start working through this shit and improve as people and make it work but tbh I think that they're far more likely to cannibalize each other first and not in a romantic way.

I would love to see it though. I really would. It would be an absolute nightmare but it would be amazing television and I would eat that shit up. Jesse Armstrong are you listening to me. Jesse Armstrong answer my calls

#I hope I don’t have to turn in my shipper credentials for this one #idk why but I’ve been a bit of a tom cynic lately. I do still love him though #also hopefully this goes without saying but absolutely no shade to the people who do think sweet requited tg is a real canon possibility #more power to you and follow your heart etc #what am I but a random person putting her half-formed opinions out on the internet #to be honest for me this comes back to the whole 'succession is narratively a tragedy'. they've all come too far for a truly happy ending #bittersweet maybe. but given that both tom and greg are knee deep in their corruption arcs i do think #that its unlikely theyll go start a vegan bed and breakfast in connecticut #best case scenario tom has a sudden moment of clarity and aborts before he permanently damages every remaining relationship in his life #(which at this point is just greg)#and actually I do think that's a possibility if the kinds of hard choices he has to make going forward are too much for him and he breaks #but even then I think that he's too far gone now to be really happy. we're past the tragic climax. I think he's ultimately sealed his fate #and as we move forward he's going to feel that fewer and fewer things are actually within his control #as he starts to really suffer the consequences of his actions in the first three seasons #so I think even if he gets out it's going to be too little too late #that's typically how narrative tragedies end. especially dostoevsky and shakespeare which I know are major influences for succession #and jesse armstrong has talked about how he doesnt believe people fundamentally change. its just that their circumstances change and so #their response to the circumstances change #I could be wrong though

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jooniez · 2 years

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okay wow so today was a whirlwind of emotions 😭😵‍💫🥹

#my brain is mush and others have said it better than me cause I’m usually not that good at expressing myself so I’ll rb some posts after #but I just wanted to let out some thoughts right now cause it’s been a crazy day #first of all I only got through half the festa vid so far cause I started watching before dinner but I got through a lot of their talking #about the hiatus and I think the main reason why I was so emotional and why I was crying so hard listening was more so about the fact that #they feel BAD about this more so than the actual hiatus itself #cause even though it’s going to be different and a lot more solo content (which I’m genuinely so excited for) it’s not like they’re going #to be completely gone like they even said they’re still doing run so that’s something I’m really happy about too #obviously I’m going to miss all the ot7 content but it’s not like this is permanent obviously one day they will call it quits for good but #that day isn’t today and I’ll obviously deal with that when it comes. but besides that the main reason why I’m so sad is that they felt #like they didn’t have a right to feel burnt out or to feel disconnected or to feel upset. they felt like they had to push these feelings #away and put aside going on this hiatus for years cause they didn’t want to disappoint us and that just broke my heart ..#like namjoons face and seeing all that pain he’s been carrying for years absolutely broke me #like I really wish they would be so much more selfish than they are sometimes because they DO deserve this break and they have for YEARS #that’s the point that really made me upset .. and joon even said that he felt the members resented him at times and even though they assured #him they didn’t he said ‘I know but that’s how I felt’ and it just kills me that they’ll always think we’re going to be upset about stuff #like this even though a vast majority of us .. the true fans .. want them to have this resting period #and be able to be on their own and figure themselves out .. everyone needs that and I have SO much respect to them for speaking on this #and making that video #so yea idk I’m feeling a bit sad but more so just … relieved?? that they’re finally taking this much needed time for themselves #and I’m honestly so excited to see what they do for their solo work 💜 I love them so much as artist and people #and seeing them always being honest and raw and vulnerable no matter how difficult … so much love and respect for them 💗#mine #idk I have so much more to say too but I never know how to express it well online .. I just love bangtan always 💜

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literaila · 27 days

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are you stupid?

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: you come home injured and satoru isn't cool with it

warnings: literal hurt/comfort, descriptions of a wound bad enough to warrant stitches, little angst, fluff, slightly ooc satoru

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year six.

“are you stupid?”

your hands are frozen to the touch, barely able to grasp the doorknob when his voice comes from nowhere at all.

you almost don't notice it when satoru opens the door. you have to blink to focus on him, but by the time you do, you're already falling against the empty space in front of you.

satoru is quick to catch your arm, righting you before you break your nose on the hardwood.

“that’s my line,” you tell him, slightly coughing--it sends shocks down your spine and you shiver. you shake his hand off of you, trying to walk forward, but there's a wall of a man standing there. you blink at him. "hey, satoru. would you mind moving?”

“i could smell the blood from down the block,” he says, his voice rougher than usual, completely still. “what did you do?”

you roll your eyes, waving a hand (even though it makes you a bit woozy). “there’s no way you could smell that. it’s not even that bad.”

“it’s dripping down your shirt.”

you pout, looking down. "i just washed this, too.”

it is a lot of blood, you realize suddenly. you would definitely get some looks if you were walking down the street in public.

still, you don't feel all that banged up. it's not really your fault that you were slightly distracted when that curse snuck up on you... or at least, you're pretty sure it's not.

satoru, shaking his head--maybe finally realizing that you're fine--moves out of the way, holding the door open for you. "what did you do?"

you step through, using the wall to keep you steady. “how do you know i did anything?”

you finally look at satoru, even though he's fading from your eyeline, in and out of focus. he's not wearing his blindfold or his glasses, and he's got a frown that rivals one of megumi's at the moment.

it makes you laugh, just a little, as you try to shake the shoes from your feet.

he was probably sleeping, you think. usually, you'd probably feel... at least slightly bad. but right now? you don't even care.

you're just happy to see him, right in front of you like your own personal greeting card. you've only been gone a day, but satoru feels much further away than that.

especially with his frown and his furrowed eyebrows. he's in a mood, you remember, frowning.

“why are you bleeding, y/n?”

you cough again, tapping his chest as you move past him. “jeez, lighten up, satoru. i’m good,” you say this as you limp down the hallway, wincing with every step.

you don't get to watch satoru's eye roll, but it takes less than a second for an arm to wrap under your shoulders, satoru forcing your weight onto him, and he practically carries you through the house until you reach the kitchen, where he sets you on the countertop.

he's looking at you like you're a fragile baby bird.

and he doesn't bother to ask--of course he doesn't--before he lifts your shirt from your abdomen, it slightly sticking (due to the blood) before it rolls up.

satoru's eyes widen as he inspects you. "woah," he whispers, paling just a little bit.

you don't look down with him--because that's a terrible idea--but you watch satoru.

you can barely feel it, actually. it's basically just a minor cut, nothing too--

you try not to gasp when satoru presses a finger near your ribs, not directly touching the wound, but far too close to it. it would be embarrassing to double over in pain, wouldn't it?

“is it bad?” you wonder, breathlessly, feeling a bit light-headed.

satoru’s head snaps up, “you didn’t look?”

“i was a bit distracted. the curse wasn't gracious enough to give me the chance to grab a couple of bandaids, the bastard."

“how did you even manage to do this?”

your eyes trail down unconsciously, but all you can see is your bunched-up shirt--drenched in blood. yeah, you'll probably have to burn it.

satoru is looking up and down, his face entirely disgusted, nose scrunched up and eyes avoiding your own.

it makes you laugh a little--because you're very familiar with satoru and his opposition to anything humanly--which then makes you wince with him.

it doesn't hurt that bad, really.

“can you get the first aid kit?” you ask him, pushing his hands away from you and your cut. but as soon as satoru isn't right there to lean on, you begin to tilt forward.

satoru immediately resumes his position as your pillar. “are you kidding? i’m calling shoko.”

“i know how to do stitches, satoru. it’s late.”

“you need, like, a stomach replacement for that.”

you roll your eyes, leaning even further into him. at least when you're pressed up against his chest, you don't have to breathe. “you’re so dramatic.”

satoru is still frowning. “doesn’t that hurt?”

“nope,” you lie, sitting up and pushing his hands away again. “i’m running on adrenaline. it’s not that deep, anyway.”

he gives you a hard look.

you sigh. “what’s wrong with you? you can drop the act.”

“what act?”

“the ‘i’m the caretaker’ act.”

“what if i came home with a hole in my stomach?" satoru's jaw is clenched. "what would you do?”

“i can't think about hypotheticals right now, satoru,” you whine. “please get the first aid kit?”

“should i get megumi too? might as well teach him how to stitch you up, he's getting to that age, you know.”

“funny,” you say, dryly. “do you want me to bleed out on our counter, or…?”

satoru sighs, but he walks out of the kitchen a moment later. hopefully to save you from dying.

you exhale, feeling your chest tighten. you can't feel much, for the most part. but then there's that feeling every couple of seconds, a memory of the whole thing playing out-- except your head is fuzzy, and everything looks sort of… colorful right now.

you can’t even remember how you got here. or the last time a curse managed to actually injure you.

it feels a bit juvenile, really.

especially because you’re in no position to be taking care of yourself—but in no world would you wake up shoko in the middle of the night for this. in no world would you wake up anyone, except for satoru, to deal with you, with your blood and your stubbornness.

god, you hate pain. you hate having to wash blood out of your clothes, and you hate sitting here by yourself.

you slump down. only seconds have gone by, but it feels like so much more than that. the wound burns, you think, in an unnatural way.

you probably got poisoned and you're probably going to die and satoru is going to stomp on your grave, and--

“do we even have enough gauze to cover that up?” satoru is asking you when he walks back in. he's wearing nothing but a t-shirt and shorts, you realize, watching him.

his eyes are stern, focused, and the rest of him is morose. you should be able to gaze at him, to stare--but you can't because your vision has spots in it, and everything about satoru is too hard right now.

he’s been like this for days. casual but stuck—like he can’t find it in him to laugh about anything. his face has been a field of lines, with no breaks in between, and his eyes have been greyer than they should be, a sort of dim color that you hate.

satoru's eyes are wild, usually. they are blue fires and the vast expanse of the universe.

but not right now, when he's looking at you like this. and not this week--because he's barely been looking at you at all.

and it's unfortunate not just because you miss him, but because you're not as good at casting it all away as he is. you can't shove things aside and make light out of the darkest situations.

you can't fill his role, and yet you keep trying to.

it's an inevitable cycle of failing and never being enough.

“i’ll just cut up your shirt if there’s not enough,” you tell him, putting on a smile so he can’t tell how badly you want to start crying.

is this real pain, you wonder, or a dream?

“use your own shirts.”

you pout. “but yours are the best quality.”

satoru rolls his eyes, again, and begins to wipe off all of the well-used tools you have. a needle you've had for years, stolen from jujutsu high, and thread you can't remember taking.

“what are you doing?” you try to grab the instruments from his hands, clumsily, almost cutting yourself again in the process.

satoru is quick to hold them away, keeping them up and out of your reach. not that you were going to try very hard anyway.

“i’m going to stitch you up," he says, like he's scolding you.

“you don’t know how.”

“please,” satoru scoffs, shaking his head. he gets a cloth wet under the facet, and then holds it towards you. “i probably learned how to do this before you were even born."

“when you were nine months old?”

“clean it.”

you listen, holding the cloth to your wound and still not looking down. it feels sort of ticklish, and also like you're being tortured.

“you don’t have to,” you tell satoru after a moment, breathing through the nausea that comes with the pain. “i know you’re squeamish around blood.”

“i am not squeamish.”

you grin at him. “sure.”

satoru looks up, and finally, his face relaxes, just a little bit. you can even see the workings of a smile on his mouth—the first you’ve gotten in days.

he shakes his head. “i’ll be fine. sit up.”

“seriously,” you say, again, catching his hand just as he’s about to touch you. “i can do it.”

“seriously, i’m not letting you. your hands are shaking.”

you look down, releasing his wrist. “oh.”

“yeah, oh.”

satoru kneels so he can see your cut properly, his face narrowed in concentration. you focus on him as he touches the tender skin by the wound, featherlight fingertips trailing across your skin.

you shiver and apologize under your breath.

he hasn't been this close in days.

“does it hurt now?” he asks you, voice so quiet that it almost echoes through the house.

“not really,” but you look up towards the ceiling. somehow you know it’s going to be worse if you watch.

“i can call—“

“no, satoru. i already told you, if you don’t want to do it then i—“

“okay, i’m doing it. i’m doing it.”

you close your eyes when he punctures your skin, waiting for the feeling to subside. it's just a prick, but you still have to think about getting the mail, going to the store, taking a shower after this, or maybe just crawling out from your own skin and becoming a spirit.

but satoru seems to recognize this, maybe from your face, and he asks, “what kind of curse was it?”

“dunno?” you breathe out, mapping a picture on the ceiling in your mind.

“what do you mean?”

“i can't remember.”

satoru looks up. “what?”

“it’s all a blur,” you say, wanting to shove his hands off of you. you've been trained to kick people away, so it's really not your fault. “i think i won though.”

“i don’t think this is winning.”

“keep going,” you tell him, instead of arguing. “i’m fine.”

satoru tsks but does as you say, resuming the smooth movements of suturing. any normal day, you'd probably want to watch his hands work, want to inspect his job and make fun of him for the way he holds his breath while looking at an open wound.

“how were the kids?” you ask him, after a moment.

satoru breathes out, nodding. his hair is messy, his face slightly wrinkled from sleeping still. “they missed you.”

“it was only a day. did megumi get that book report back yet? he was worried about it before i left, but i told him—“

“i missed you.”

you look down, forgetting about pain or blood. “what?”

“i miss you,” he says, this time, like it’s any different. satoru keeps his eyes down, his hands moving. but there's a guilty look on his face--something that tells you he didn't mean to say anything.

“satoru…”

“are you still mad at me?”

you tilt your head. “mad? why would i be mad at you?”

“you haven’t been coming to bed,” satoru answers, obviously.

your eyes widen. “satoru—“ and there’s a sharp pain in your side.

“sorry,” he murmurs, softly, at your flinch.

“i’m not mad at you,” you tell him, trying not to double over. your voice is high-pitched and breathy. you feel like a child—ridiculous and foolish—but it doesn’t stop you from speaking. “i was never mad at you.”

“you weren't?”

“you asked me for space. i was just giving it to you.”

satoru pauses, looking up at you.

“i… i didn’t want to push you into talking to me. i thought—i don’t know, that maybe things had changed. i mean, we don’t have to…” you wince, and it’s not because of the pain this time. “to sleep together. or in the same room. if you don’t want that anymore—“

“no."

"no what?"

he shakes his head. "i want that."

“satoru, you’re not going to hurt my feelings—“

“i was wrong," he cuts in, voice rough. you don't think you've ever heard him say those words before. "i don’t want space, i never did.”

you blink at him, brows furrowing. “then why did you…”

“i—“ he stops. looks around. “does it hurt?”

and you know, just as you know most things about satoru, that he can't continue. that the truth is going to cut just a little bit too deep--deeper than your injury--and he can't bring himself to say it.

so you only take another deep breath, pushing away the feeling of your skin being patched back together, and nod.

“a little,” you say softly.

an unspoken understanding passes between the two of you, and breathing gets a little bit easier all of a sudden.

maybe it wasn't the pain. maybe it was just the tension, the build-up of days apart.

it makes sense, even to your slightly fogged-over mind.

and then the two of you sit there while satoru patches you up, sharing a glance every couple of seconds—a glance with so many words, so tender and feeling that it succeeds in making you even dizzier. blood loss has nothing on the way satoru makes you feel.

you can't see his hands--don't dare to--but you can feel the softness of them, the care he's taking in stitching you up.

if it were any day, you would laugh at him for it. but right now, you just accept it. bask in it.

“how’s that feel?” satoru whispers to you, after he’s tied it off and wiped the blood from your skin.

you don't bother to look down. really, you don't want to see the freshly sutured line on your abdomen, but also, you just want to keep looking at him.

it's much more gratifying, at least.

“good," you say, voice stronger, easier. "is it going to scar?”

satoru scoffs. “if you wanted untouched skin then we should’ve called shoko—“

“shut up,” you interrupt. “i’m not listening to the medical advice of someone who’s never gotten a scratch in his life.”

“i let you scratch me.”

“well, obviously, i’m the exception,” you smile at him, exhausted and sweaty and still a little out of it—but home. with him.

and this time satoru actually smiles back.

it’s a bizarre thing, his smile. the first one you’ve gotten in days and it wakes you up immediately. almost like realizing you’ve been in the dark for weeks, just getting a glimpse of the light.

he's a peek into something more--unearthly. if the closest thing you get to divinity is satoru, then you won't complain.

“you okay?” you ask him, but you’re only teasing.

“that’s my line,” he says.

“you sure?”

satoru leans towards you, forehead against yours. “i’m sure.”

you sit there for a moment. satoru is usually the one clinging to you, but tonight you feel like if he moves away you might never get him back.

so you sit there, make sure to hold him to you, secure with your hands wrapped around his biceps, his arms grazing against yours as he leans against the counter.

you're probably a mess right now--your skin stained with blood that shouldn't be outside your body, your face covered in dirt, your hair and clothes drenched in sweat and rain. but satoru doesn't seem to mind, so you don't think about it too hard.

he deserves it, at least, for making ridiculous assumptions. you have to get him back somehow, after all.

after a minute, or two, or maybe even three, you clear your throat. “great. i’m alive, you’re… less annoying than usual. let’s go to bed.”

“‘less?’” satoru gapes at you, but his laughter is unmistakable.

“yeah, i know," you say, feigning shock, "i was surprised too.”

he flicks your forehead but you’re still smiling at him.

“okay,” satoru whispers, leaning back. “bedtime.”

you rub at the spot around your wound one more time, already feeling the days of sore skin and itchy muscles, and then you push satoru so you can hop off of the counter.

“hey,” he says, suddenly, stopping you. his voice is quick, almost lost. but his hands wrap around your wrists, keeping them between the two of you so you can't escape. and satoru's eyes are on your face, flickering between the different points of your skin, looking like he's just realized that he's lost something.

you raise a brow, but don't push back against his chest or try to pry his hands away. “what?”

satoru swallows, still watching you.

his eyelashes are long enough to touch his skin, and his eyes are blue enough to take up the whole world. you want to grin at the saturation of him--so much brighter than you've seen him in days--but you refrain. you don't want to scare him away.

but you're not so eager to move. it's easy to wait on satoru, really--to wait for his words, to let him collect his thoughts--because you've only spent nine years studying his face. you've only admired the slope of his nose and the tilt of his chin since you were sixteen, and there's much more to be discovered.

so staring at him is simple. especially when there's so much to look at.

you have plenty of unmarked territory you need to take over.

you keep a slight smile on your face while you wait, and eventually, satoru groans, hanging his head back.

“what?” you repeat, laughing just a little.

“can you stop looking at me like that?”

“like what?” you nudge your head against his chin, and satoru glares at you.

“i’m trying to be serious.”

“oh, okay,” you try to push away your smile, but you can't. it's glued where it is. “i’m serious.”

“you’re not.”

“what is it, satoru? i’m listening.”

his eyes meet yours, again, and you almost flinch.

everything about satoru is forceful, except for the way he looks at you. the way his eyes relax, his entire face falling when you're both eye to eye. it's a look you've only observed on one person, in only one particular moment.

and, you think, all of a sudden, it might be your favorite look.

but you're still fed up with waiting. you're tired of his consideration, his contemplative eyes. you want satoru back--with his ridiculous laughter and stupid jokes. you want him irritating the sanity out of you and simultaneously bringing you to life.

you don't tell him that though, because in this moment you'll take what you can get.

any version of satoru is better than none at all. you’ve learned that the hard way.

“hey,” he says, one more time. his smile is unusual, a frightened little thing. “i love you.”

you freeze.

your face falls flat, thinking of the words in a million different ways. you might've misheard him--but you're so locked in on him that it seems impossible.

at once, you consider exactly what he means, so many different variations of the same thing.

does he love you like your parents did, always too much but never enough?

does he love you like you love megumi and tsumiki—like your life depends on it? like you’d be wrecked without them?

or does satoru love you like you love him? does he love you like it’s breathing? like there’s never been a choice in the matter?

but, it's simple. a beat passes, three seconds of contemplation--just enough for the words to ring true throughout your body.

the way he’s looking at you is enough to answer any question you have.

satoru loves you like a promise, and nothing less.

“you idiot,” you say, a sudden, day-breaking smile on your face. “don’t you think i know that?"

"should we wake them up?" tsumiki asks, walking up behind megumi, staring down at you both. she's rubbing her eyes, her hair slightly messy.

megumi considers it for a moment.

neither of them have woken up like this in a while. you and gojo are getting better at falling asleep in bed instead of on the couch.

but, at this point, megumi thinks that it's probably a habit. or just to annoy him.

gojo's face is shoved into your chest and your hands are tangled in his hair. the both of you have silly smiles on your faces, and seriously. how do you both manage to fall asleep in such uncomfortable positions.

"no," megumi whispers, yawning. "i can make breakfast. mom probably got home pretty late."

"okay," tsumiki says, still staring.

megumi rolls his eyes and walks away. honestly, what did he do to deserve getting two idiots for parents?

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mypoisonedvine · 2 months

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𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | angus tully x reader

sequel to 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲, won't really make much sense without reading that!

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | holiday break can only last so long, but angus wants this to be more than a fling-- and you, as much as you want to deny it, already know it's more than a fling. the question remains if either one of you will admit it.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 5.3k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | SMUT (18+ only!!), age gap (not huge but angus is 18 and the reader is just out of college), semi-public sex, breeding kink, very inappropriate activities in a church, secret relationship, a wee bit of angst and fluff at the end!

part 3 coming soon!

“Fuck, I don’t wanna go back,” he groaned, dropping his head defeatedly into the crook of your neck. “I never wanna go back to that horrible fucking school.”

“I guess you’ll just see me at Easter break then, huh?” you purred, grazing your teeth over his ear.

“You know, if sex with you keeps lining up with the Catholic calendar, it’s gonna give me a complex or something,” he noticed.

“Oh, I can do better than that,” you beamed. “Next time you see me at Mass, I won’t be wearing any panties. And you’ll be the only other one who knows.”

He perked up again, balancing himself over you with bent arms against the mattress. “I swear, you’re a dream come true. A really fucked up dream I had after seeing a porno mag or something.”

You laughed, but it was cut off with him pulling you into another kiss— sweet and slow, with both of you smiling against each other. With your limbs tangled together under the sheets, you melted together into your bed; and no, none of it really seemed real yet. Every time this happened, you couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that you were hooking up with Angus Tully. Frankly, you were sort of trying not to think about it, at least not too much. If you really tried, you could look at his face and see the little kid you babysat all those years ago, and it just made you feel sort of awful about it… yet you couldn’t bring yourself to stop.

Your smile fell into a gasp when he started to kiss your neck, his hands guiding your back as it arched slightly. When he pressed his body against yours, you felt him getting hard against your leg, and you groaned softly.

“Fuck, Angus, again?” you whined. “We already went twice—”

“I’m leaving in two days,” he explained, “I need you as many times as I can get away with it.”

You wanted to protest, say something about how sore you were or about how he needed to leave and go back home before someone noticed he was gone— but his slender fingers were already diving between your legs and making you just moan instead.

“See? You’re wet already,” he noticed with a playful mockery to his tone. “I’ve gotta take care of you, baby…”

Oh, you couldn’t stand it when he talked like that— when he made you feel so vulnerable to him, so paradoxically submissive. When this started a couple weeks back, it was the other way around: you were the cool, older woman with all the power. You told him what you wanted and he was more than happy to oblige, never questioning you— he was obedient, basically. But once you’d had a few more encounters, he realized that you wanted him just as badly… that he could make you desperate, if he wanted. Once he’d had the smallest taste of control, he was suddenly a changed man; now, he loved to tease and taunt you, see how far he could push you, even once he made you beg— and you expected you’d never get to live that down.

He watched your face with a mischievous smile as he slowly slid two fingers into you, watching the way you winced and then relaxed. “I’ll be careful,” he promised, “I know you’re all sensitive still… thought you might wake up the whole house with that last one.”

You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks flushed, remembering how he’d had to cover your mouth with his hand when he made you come. These were issues you hadn’t considered much before, since you spent most of the year living in a dorm where you didn’t really care if anyone heard what you were up to. Staying in your parents’ house again— and secretly fucking their friends’ son in your childhood bedroom— posed new challenges to say the least.

You gasped when his fingers curled inside you, rubbing that spot that made everything clench for a moment. “Mm,” he observed encouragingly, “like that?”

“Yes,” you hissed under your breath. Just when you began to let your eyes fall shut, they shot open when he added a third finger inside you. “Fuck!”

“Oh, don’t be dramatic,” he scolded, “you can fit three fingers just fine— my cock’s bigger than all that anyways.”

He twisted the fingers inside you as your hips rocked, shivers running over your skin. “Yeah, but still— fuck, it’s a lot…”

“You take it just fine,” he assured. “You take whatever I give you, huh?”

“Sh-shut up,” you whimpered, and he laughed softly.

“You’re so good for me,” he continued anyways, making you bite your lip in hopes he wouldn’t notice his effect on you. Whenever he said stuff like that, you just wanted to ask him who the fuck he thought he was— it made you want to shove him off of you and pin him down, remind him of his place. But you never did, because letting him take control always felt so damn good…

His head dipped down a bit under the covers— and his lips latched onto one of your nipples, making you gasp and grab his hair with one of your hands. “Oh god— yes,” you praised, shuddering a bit as he suckled hard on the bud.

He moaned around it, his free hand holding the other breast and keeping you down even when your back longed to arch deeper. “You get so wet when I do this,” he noticed as he pulled away briefly, moving to suck the other for a moment as his fingers gently pumped into you. When he pushed them in all the way to the knuckle, at the same time that his tongue swirled around your nipple just right, your patience finally gave in.

“Just fuck me,” you begged, tugging harder on his curls as you felt him smile against your skin. “God, I just— fuck—”

He pulled away from your breast with a pop and a grin. “Just ask nicely, baby, and I’m all yours.”

“I know you want to, just fuck me,” you growled, but he shook his head and you clenched your jaw.

“You can say it,” he encouraged, “just use the magic word.”

You rolled your eyes, hating the juvenile way of describing it, but his fingers were still moving inside you and you just needed it too bad— “Please,” you breathed. “Please fuck me.”

“There you go,” he praised, slowly pulling his drenched fingers out of you and moving his hips to line up with yours instead. He was so hard; you were almost impressed with his resolve, though at the moment you were mostly just annoyed with it. “Look up at me,” he demanded, making you meet his gaze before he pushed himself inside you.

It was almost too intense, looking right into his eyes as he thrust into you carefully— you bit your lip, watching the heavy sigh of relief leave him as he filled you.

“Fuck,” he whispered, his eyes scanning all over your face and watching your expression change as he pressed his cock as deep as possible. “You’re fucking perfect.”

You didn’t really believe that, but you at least would concede that this moment was perfect.

You held tighter onto him, legs wrapping around his hips, as he leaned in closer and moaned against your neck. “How am I supposed to leave when you feel this fucking good?” he groaned lowly, and you felt yourself already beginning to pulse inside as you moved closer to the edge. “I feel good too, right?”

Poor thing— if only he knew that it was his own fault you withheld praise, just because he sounded too precious when he asked you for reassurance like that. He was really fucking talkative, way more than you expected; sometimes you thought if you didn’t say anything, he’d just go off on these wild tangents about how bad he needs you. “You feel good,” you replied, trying to keep it a little vague so he’d ask for more.

“How good?” he asked with a grin, and you smiled, too, because he was wonderfully predictable sometimes.

“So good,” you cooed, “so fucking good that I’m gonna come way too fast.”

“Hey, that’s my thing,” he joked. His stamina had definitely increased a lot in just a few encounters, but he still had a habit of coming quickly if you got him a bit too riled up. Not that you really minded… it was still cute, after all, and he usually made it up to you one way or another.

He picked up his pace, letting out a low moan against your ear. “Tell me you want me to come inside you,” he ordered, panting with each quick thrust.

“Fuck, Angus, I want you come,” you replied, whispering against his ear. “I want you to fill me—”

“Fuck…”

“And put all your come so deep in me—”

“Fuck, baby,” he whined again. “I’m so fucking close.”

You whined, running your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, feeling your chest get tighter as you moved closer to the edge.

“Tell me you want me to breed you,” he added; okay, so much for predictable…

“Wh-what?” you choked, feeling suddenly hot all over. “Angus, I—”

“I know, you won’t,” he soothed, “it’s just, you know, pretend… just say you want it, please.”

You swallowed but nodded, holding on tighter to the back of his neck. “I… I want you to get me pregnant.”

“God, yes,” he whined through his teeth, fucking you faster.

“I-I want you to fill me up so I can have a baby,” you continued in a whisper, and he moaned again as his grip on your hips tightened. You could hardly believe what you were saying, nor that he had asked you to say it, and yet it made the most wonderfully bizarre feeling stir inside you— strangest of all, it was turning you on. “F-fuck, Angus, I’m gonna come.”

“You’re gonna come with me?” he pressed, sighing when you nodded. “Fuck, let’s do it— we’ll come together. That’ll definitely get you pregnant.”

“Jesus, Angus,” you hissed, “what are you talking about?”

“It doesn’t get you hot, thinking about it?” he challenged. “Thinking about us making a baby right now? Imagining how good it would feel to let me breed you and make you a mommy?”

“Sh-shut the fuck up,” you grunted, but you were already trying to hold it back.

“God, you want it so bad,” he noticed— how was he only this perceptive in these sorts of situations? “You want me to come in you and knock you up, I can tell. You’re gonna come just thinking about it.”

Even though it wasn’t really just thinking about it— it was him fucking you deep and fast and hard after a whole night of making love— you were forced to bite your lip and nod.

“C’mon, baby, I wanna feel it again,” he purred. “Feels so fucking perfect when you come around me— you’re mine, aren’t you?”

Your heart jumped and your eyes shut tight. “God,” you groaned in frustration, but he just smiled and held you tighter.

“It’s okay,” he cooed, “nobody has to know, it’s just me— you’re mine, right? Say it. Say you’re mine.”

You whined when it hit you— and nothing had ever hit you quite like that. Tensing up inside, pulsing uncontrollably, you felt the weight on your chest lift and you dug your nails into his shoulders as he fucked you through it. “Fuck! I-I’m yours!” you blurted out, unable to stop it when you were drowning in your ecstasy like that.

He swore against your ear, and gave you hardly one more thrust before falling over the edge himself, groaning weakly as his body sank down onto yours.

You hoped against all odds that he wouldn’t force you to address any of what you’d just said; he looked so exhausted that you almost wanted to let him fall asleep here if it meant avoiding that conversation. But it was just like him to only give you about ten seconds of silence before running his mouth again.

He started by just sitting up enough to kiss you on the cheek, then the lips, then the side of your forehead when you turned away. “That was so hot,” he announced, still catching his breath, as he grinned down at you.

“That was… different,” you admitted as you hoped your embarrassment wouldn’t show on your face. “You weren’t serious, right? I mean, you know I’m on the pill—”

“Yeah, of course,” he assured, “it’s just, I don’t know, a fantasy.”

You raised an eyebrow as you looked at him. “Respectfully, I thought it was more of a nightmare— you know, it’s kinda worst-case-scenario here.”

“No, no, I know— that’s why it’s fun,” he explained. “‘Cause it’s, like, bad. Well, not bad, but… scary. In a good way! Like a rollercoaster or something.”

“Yeah, sure,” you scoffed, “just like a rollercoaster. That’s why the maternity ward at the hospital looks so much like Six Flags.”

“You know what I mean,” he laughed. “It’s just… if it actually happened it would be a huge fucking deal… but just imagining it, just for fun I mean, it makes my heart race. See?”

He picked up one of your hands and put it on his neck, pressing your fingers into his pulse so you could feel its rapidness. “Fair enough,” you shrugged, “you sure scared the crap out of me for a second.”

“You liked it,” he cooed, kissing the tip of your nose. “You like being mine, too.”

Even if you could’ve hid the reaction on your face somehow, the way your weak muscles still found the energy to clench around his softening cock gave you away; he purred as he smiled, kissing you more tenderly on the lips this time.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered to you.

“I probably look like a mess,” you laughed quietly, “I don’t even want to know what my hair looks like after a night like this.”

“Yeah, that’s how I like you, though— you look pretty all fucked up,” he explained.

You glanced over as he moved to bury his face in your neck again, only to see the slightest blue glow in the window: the early light just before dawn. “Angus, it’s almost morning,” you noticed. “You need to go.”

“Not yet,” he begged, hugging you tighter. “I bet I can make you come again—”

“No,” you snapped, “if your parents find out you snuck out— and if anyone knows you came here—”

“Baby, c’mon,” he pouted, “I’ll be quick, nobody’s gonna know—”

“I swear to god, Angus—”

“Fine, fine,” he sighed, “then just kiss me before I go.”

He held your cheek and turned your face to his, and you kissed him; you hated these kisses, the ones that felt like goodbye. They were amazing, of course, but they always broke your heart.

“I’ll see you later?” he assumed.

“You’ll see me on Sunday,” you replied.

“Nooo, I can’t wait that long,” he whined.

“Yes you can,” you breathed. “Now get up, please, before I have to literally kick you out.”

“Fine,” he relented, climbing off of you and searching the floor for his boxers and t-shirt.

“I still can’t believe you ran here without even putting a coat on,” you remembered, “it’s below freezing out.”

“Whatever, it’s not even a block to my house,” he rolled his eyes.

“Mr. Lindy across the street takes out the trash insanely early in the morning— what if he sees you running back to your house in the snow without any fucking clothes on?!”

“He was young once, right? He’ll understand,” Angus laughed.

“I’m hoping he doesn’t understand,” you groaned, “‘cause if he figures it out and tells my parents—”

“I know,” he breathed, slipping on his shoes and leaning over the bed to kiss you quickly. “It’ll be fine, okay?”

“Okay,” you smiled back.

There was a brief pause before Angus dropped his arms down against his sides, hitting his legs; “Well, I… guess I’ll see you at Mass,” he announced.

“That’s gotta be the weirdest thing to say after hooking up with somebody,” you decided.

“I couldn’t think of anything else!” he defended. “I’m about to jump out your window, it’s already a pretty weird transition.”

“Okay, first of all, please don’t jump,” you replied, “but fair enough. I’ll see you at Mass.”

He hesitated, suddenly giving you one more kiss— one that lingered a little more— before opening your window and beginning to climb out.

Mass was certainly a lot more interesting when you kept feeling Angus’ eyes on you. His family had been just barely on time for the service, so you hadn’t been able to talk to him before it started; you could tell he was dying to know if you’d gone through with it.

You tugged on the bottom of your dress as you adjusted yourself in the pew; it was definitely a weird feeling, and you couldn’t stop worrying that someone, somehow, would see up your skirt and get an eyeful. The anxiety of it was oddly arousing, though— it made you understand a bit better what Angus had said about the whole scary in a good way thing.

When you occasionally spared a glance at him, you noticed that Angus still looked a little underslept; you’d both been up all night just a couple days ago, but the difference was that your parents didn’t really mind if you spent most of the next day in your room, so you’d had a chance to catch up— Angus’ parents were more determined to make use of his time off from school, and had him doing all kinds of chores and activities on Saturday that prevented him from getting more than a quick nap here and there.

And they’d tugged him out of bed bright and early for church today, so he was probably still feeling the effects of an all-nighter. That said, he certainly didn’t seem lacking in energy at the moment— he kept wringing his hands, constantly glancing at you, so noticeably that his mom lightly smacked him on the shoulder when she noticed it.

But you were looking across the aisle at him, too. If for no other reason than how cute he looked in his shirt and tie.

After the service, as everyone mingled around coffee and donuts, Angus made a beeline towards you— you’d kind of hoped he would be a little more subtle.

“Hey,” he greeted, and you just nodded at him with a smirk. “It’s been too long.”

He glanced at all the people passing by, stepping closer to you to let someone walk past but never moving back; he waited until no one was too close before he spoke again in a lower voice.

“Are you really not wearing any…?” he asked, an extra sparkle in his eye and a mischievous smile on his face. His smile dropped a bit when you nodded, though, and his eyes raked over you in the most intoxicating, lascivious way. You were sure you’d never had someone look at you like that, like they’d give anything to devour you right then— and with no panties to hold it, you felt your arousal slicken where your thighs rubbed together.

He cleared his throat and glanced over his shoulder, making sure no one was looking over at him as he adjusted his corduroys awkwardly; you licked your lips, a little too flattered by the effect you had on him.

“That’s, um, that’s…” he mumbled, tripping over his words. “That’s really… yeah.”

“Really what?” you challenged as you bit your lip briefly, moving closer to him and all but batting your eyes up at him.

“It’s really fucking sexy,” he whispered.

“Yeah?” you cooed. “I think it’s sexy that you think it’s sexy.”

“I haven’t stopped thinking about—” he began.

“I know,” you sighed, “me too.”

“I wasn’t even tired that day— I was wired, actually,” he laughed quietly. “I just… I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Your heart’s pace picked up a bit, and you glanced away briefly. “I, um… I thought about you, too.

“There’s gotta be somewhere we can go,” he whispered. “It’s a big place— everyone’s here, if we just… found an empty room—”

“Jesus, Angus— in a church?!” you hissed.

“Come on,” he begged, “I don’t know when we’ll get a chance again— and I’m leaving tomorrow— and I want you so bad—”

“Shh,” you warned him, making sure no one was nearby again. “We’ll figure something out— just not here. It’s too risky.”

“But I need you now,” he insisted, voice lower and darker as he stepped just a bit closer to you. “It won’t take us long— I mean, it definitely won’t take me long, after spending the last two days thinking about you.”

You crossed your arms, looking down at the floor, and you felt him lean in over you. “Please, baby?” he whispered under his breath.

Releting, you took a glance at the crowd and made sure nobody was looking in your direction. “You go find an empty room in the east wing. I’ll talk to a few people— so it doesn’t look like we’re going together— and I’ll come find you in a few minutes, okay?”

“Great,” he beamed. “Uh, which way is east again?”

You pointed him in the right direction and watched him bound away, sighing to yourself as you re-entered the crowd. You got a lot of questions about your plan now that you finished your degree— and you found yourself repeating the same stock answer about how your graduate program didn’t start until the fall so you had the spring and summer to stay home. Even though you knew you needed to kill some time to look less suspicious, you found yourself glancing constantly towards the east wing, getting more and more impatient for your chance to slip away as unnoticed as possible.

As the crowd was clearing out and nearly everyone’s attention was turned onto somebody’s new baby, you took the opportunity to disappear into the dark hallway. As you peered around the doors, you saw Angus peeking out at you through one of the little windows; the door opened, and you slipped into an abandoned Sunday school classroom, barely having time to gingerly shut the door behind you before you felt his lips on your neck and his hand sliding up your thigh.

“That took forever,” he complained, and before you could remind him it had hardly been five minutes, his fingers were exploring between your legs. “Fuck, what’re you so wet for?” he teased, and you groaned as you pulled him closer by his pants and hopped up to sit on the low bookshelf nearby.

“Just hurry up,” you hissed, “we need to get this over with before somebody finds us here.”

He opened his fly quickly, but struggled slightly to free himself from the confines of his trousers; you hummed a bit when he got it out, pressing it against you right away as you moved your hips up.

Thrusting into you all at once, you both sighed slowly; you took hold of his shoulders, he grabbed onto your hips, and instantly he began to fuck into you impatiently.

“God, you’re so tight,” he hissed against your ear. “Touch yourself— I want you to come, too.”

You reached between your bodies to put a few fingers on your clit, rubbing fast in hopes that you could catch up with him.

“Do you always do what you’re told?” he mocked playfully.

“I think the fact that we’re doing this right after church proves that I don’t,” you replied.

“Guess you only do what I tell you to,” he shrugged, which really made you want to talk back, but you couldn’t because you were trying not to moan too loudly.

He moved faster inside you, and something about the angle of sitting up on the shelf was making him hit just the right spot— or maybe you were sensitive from the exhilarating fear of getting caught.

“What if I got you pregnant here?” he purred, making you arch your back slightly. “Wouldn’t that be funny?”

“You’ve got a weird sense of humor, Tully,” you breathed, struggling not to let your voice come out all whiny and weak.

“Knocked up at St. Mary’s… it’s what God would want, right?”

“Do you never shut up?” you hissed.

“No,” he smirked, “you’re cute when you’re ticked off at me.”

His eyes met yours, and you felt a strange emotion stir in your chest: you bit your lip, willing yourself to tear away from his gaze, but you found it impossible somehow.

One of his hands moved from your hip up to your chest, palming at you through your dress. You tensed up inside, making him wince a bit, and you couldn’t believe how close you were already.

“Oh god, baby, m’gonna come,” you whimpered, moving your hand even faster over your clit; he groaned in approval, leaning in to kiss all along your neck.

“Come for me,” he pleaded, “I’m so fucking close— please come, fuck—”

“R-right there,” you gasped, gripping his shoulder tighter— actually, that wasn’t the only place you were gripping him tighter. He was struggling to maintain the pace of his thrusts, in fact, with how hard your walls were bearing down on him. “Yes, yes, yes—”

“Not too loud,” he warned you, and you bit hard on your own lip to suppress your moan: it stayed in your throat instead, and you heard him gasp as he heard and felt you reaching your peak. He had to take his hand off your chest and put it on the bookshelf under you to help keep you upright, and he looked down between your bodies to watch himself give you a few final thrusts.

He stopped suddenly, whimpering slightly as he buried himself in you as deep as he could go; you sighed and laid back on the bookshelf again, having to tilt your head to avoid a figurine of some prophet or saint that you had absolutely no interest in identifying at the moment.

Angus took a moment to catch his breath, before looking back over his shoulder and through the door’s window to make sure no one was in the hallway. He pulled his cock out of you carefully and did his best to fit it back into his pants. As you felt a warm oozing feeling between your legs, your face began to heat up.

“Maybe I didn’t think this through,” you realized.

“What?” he mumbled.

“I’m gonna have to go out there with nothing on under my dress, with your come leaking out of me.”

He bit his lip.

“It’s not sexy, Angus! It’s very inconvenient!” you frowned.

“It’s both,” he insisted. “It’s very much both.”

Though you did get another chance to see Angus before he left, it wasn’t that sort of rendezvous, unfortunately. Although, just sitting and talking with him was wonderful, too— in an entirely different way. See, that was the thing that scared you most, even more than how badly you’d come to crave his touch: how happy you felt just being with him.

He was funny, and weird, and seemed to think your stories from college were fascinating; he was well-read, especially for a high school student, and you two could chat about your favorite books— a hobby most of your classmates in college found too nerdy to sympathize with.

It probably looked totally wholesome from the outside: two childhood friends catching up while they were back home for a while. And you, you probably looked normal and cool on the outside— you were trying to, at least. But inside, you were terrified. You wanted it to be like what Angus said— scary, in a good way, like a rollercoaster— but you were starting to just feel sick. You know, like an actual rollercoaster would…

“Everyone there is so… dumb,” Angus decided as he leaned back, looking up at the ceiling.

“That can’t be true, it’s a good school,” you tried to encourage him.

“I mean, maybe they could be smart, but they act like morons,” he clarified. “They hate me, too, and I don’t even really know why.”

“Probably because they can sense that you think they’re all morons,” you suggested; and he looked over at you, as if he’d genuinely never thought of that before.

But instead of addressing that, he sat up again and changed the subject. “My parents probably want me to go back and, like, put my trunk in the car and stuff…”

“Right,” you nodded, “you should go.”

“Yeah— b-but, listen, um, before I do…” he trailed off, leaning a little closer to you on the couch. “I wanted to, you know, talk. About something.”

“We’ve been talking for half an hour,” you noticed.

“Right, uh— I meant something specific,” he explained, his cheeks seeming to get a little bit more pink. “I… I won’t be back until spring break, you know…”

“Uh huh,” you nodded, raising an eyebrow as you wondered what he was getting at.

“And, you know, we’ve been having such a great time,” he went on, and your heart twisted. You’d heard this spiel before: the things are so good now, why do we need to put a label on it? why can’t we just have fun talk. The you’re great, but not good enough for more than this talk. You decided to jump in and spare him before he said anything too… honest.

“I get it,” you promised, and he looked at you nervously. “We’re gonna be too far apart for too long— and you shouldn’t, you know, feel like you’re tied down to anything. It’s okay— I didn’t think I was, like, your girlfriend or anything.”

“R-right,” he coughed, looking away and putting his hand on the back of his neck. “Yeah, that’s— that’s what I was gonna say. I knew you’d understand.”

You smiled, wishing you weren’t always so goddamn understanding. “But it was fun— a good way to kill time over the break, for sure.”

“Yeah,” he agreed alongside a thin laugh. “I… I think I’ll always owe you, for being my first time and all.”

“Well, you’ve certainly spent your first two weeks of not being a virgin pretty well,” you snorted. “I had a good time. We’ll call it even.”

“And… when I come back?” he pressed. “Maybe we can, I dunno… maybe we can do it again.”

You grinned and tilted your head. “Yeah, I like that idea.”

“But can I still call you?” he asked nervously.

“Of course!” you beamed. “You’ll have to tell me if you get any good books assigned this semester.”

“Yeah, I doubt it,” he scoffed, but his smile lifted just a bit.

“I can come see you off, if you want,” you offered, “but it might make your mom suspect something…”

“You’re probably right,” he admitted, “I wish you weren’t, but you are— but I’ll call first thing when I get there!”

You smiled, and he gave you a hug before he left; and he promised to call again, though you’d believed him the first time. And the next time you stayed up all night with Angus, it was on the phone— he snuck out of bed with a bag of quarters, and told you the phone was free so you wouldn’t feel bad, and talked to you about everything he could possibly think of.

Except, you didn’t quite make it all night: you fell asleep at some point, while he was talking about his English paper… not that he could blame you.

And for some reason, one that even he himself couldn’t quite explain, he kept feeding the phone quarters and listening to you sleep; he didn’t hang up until it was nearly morning and he had to sneak back into his room.

[series masterlist here]

#angus tully x reader #angus tully smut

2K notes · View notes

whore-ibly-hot · 10 months

Text

Yan!Farm-boy x Reader

'City Boys ain't worth nothin'

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Smut, NON-CON, mentions of exs, p-in-v sex, mentions of religon, mentions of conservatives, bondage, mentions of marriage, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of divorce, female and male genitalia, female reader, pet names, sub-par writing of southern accent.

(AN: Had fun with this one!)

Sitting on your porch, you sip from a cup of sweet tea provided by your lovely Aunt May, when you hear the sound of a truck approaching. A cloud of dust can be seen flying up from the dirt road as the beaten-up yellow pick up from the McCall farm rolls up the edge of your aunt's driveway. A freckle faced, redheaded boy parks the car, and hops out, his face and arms already red from having been working in the sun all day. You huff, but call out to your aunt. "Aunt May! That McCall boy's here!" You yell, a twinge of annoyance in your voice.

Ever since your parents split up, you moved from the city to live with your aunt May in this godforsaken hick town. You've always seen yourself as a city-girl, and just the thought of spending even a month on some dusty farm in the middle of nowhere made you want to gag. Despite the fact you've been here for several months now, the feeling has not gone away. Aunt May is nice, but you miss your friends, and you would rather die than go to another country-bumpkin harvest festival or Sunday service. Your predicament isn't helped by Joey McCall, the youngest son of the McCall family. From what you've gathered, the McCall's have been the largest family in this county for years. While not necessarily rich, they are well-known as salt-of-the-earth people, always willing to help. The McCall family has six kids, with the oldest four already married and starting their own families in the county. It seems that's Joey's goal too.

Everyday, even before you arrived in town, Joey was hired as a farmhand for your aunt, tending to animals and mucking the horses. He took pride in his work, and it only furthered his position as a town darling. When you arrived, despite your arrogance and clear disgust at your new life, he feels that you just need to see how great it is to live in a community like this. Joey hadn't really ever felt anything serious for the girls from town, and some would even say he didn't seem like the romantic type. This was far from the truth, as it was plain as day what he wanted when he would go doe-eyed at the preachers sermons on marriage, and god's purpose for it. He hasn't relented since he met you. Flowers, offering you baked goods, offering to do your chores, whatever you need to get him on your good side. Frankly, you can't stand him. It's not that you hate him persay, but you want nothing to do with this community of red-necks, and you would NEVER sink so low as kissing one of these country bumpkins sons.

Joey hops up the porch with a grin, adjusting the strap of his overalls as he approaches you. 'Aunt May, please hurry up and give him his chores already!' You think, trying to suppress rolling your eyes. "Mornin', stranger!" He teases. "It's a nice morning, sun's not too hot neither..." You nod, trying to simply wait out the conversation. He waits for you to speak, and when you don't, he sighs, but is happy to do the talking. "I'm glad I ran into you, I hadn't seen ya the last few times I visited. I-I sure hope you're not avoidin' me!" He laughs awkwardly, his grin faltering a little when you don't deny that this was your intention. He clears his throat, and quickly turns around, grabbing something from his back pocket. He thrusts his hand out, and a bundle of mixed flowers and weeds rests in it, still covered in dirt. You look disgusted at the half-dead bouquet.

"I don't want that." You say. His hand shakes a little, and he rubs the back of his neck with his free-hand. "Yeah, I understand. I was actually riding Maisie this morning, and by the time I saw these out in the field, she'd trampled right over em' with her hooves." He tosses the bouquet away over the porch, and it falls apart immediately upon impact with the ground. "It was stupid a' me to think ya'd like em'. Worth a shot though!" You open your mouth to retort, but before you can your aunt finally comes to the porch.

"Mornin' Ma'am!" Joey greets, and she responds sweetly, before pointing out a few things round the farm from her spot on the porch she'd like him to get done. He nods, and after grabbing the toolbox he'd always leave by the stairs, he sets off. You decide you've had enough off outside for today, and head back inside, placing your now empty glass on the counter.

Several hours go by, and as you flick through the channels on the tv, (most of which are static due to the terrible signal out here), you hear your aunt call you from the kitchen. As you enter, you can see she's finishing preparing lunch, a salad bowl to her left and a knife in her hand. Her free hands steadies some lettuce on the cutting board. "Hiya kiddo', how's your day been so far?" She asks. You don't hate your aunt, and lie to protect her feelings. "Fine. Just fine." You lean against the counter. "That poor McCall boy has been out there all mornin', hasn't even come in to ask for a glass of water." She sighs. You roll your eyes. "Be a dear and bring him this sandwich, would ya?" You want to say no more than anything, but when your aunt raises her brow and gives you that look, you quickly take the plate and scurry out to the barn.

As you approach, the sound of hammering and heavy breathing can be heard. As you enter, you see Joey trying to patch the gate on one of the horse-stalls. It seems he sent the horses out into the field, as the barn is empty save for you and him. "My aunt wanted you to have some lunch." You say coldly, placing the plate on top of a turned-over bucket which you considered to be the only place clean enough for it. Joey looks up, eyes wide in appreciation. "Well, thank ya' very much! I'll admit, I've been getting might hungry sittin' out here tryna' fix this darned gate." He huffs. He thinks it's a problem with the hinge. You let out a 'hmm', in response, and begin to leave, when Joey abruptly hops up and grabs your wrist. As soon as he sees your face change to one of disgust and shock, he recoils.

"Sorry to spook ya', I just wanted to ask you something before ya' ran of like ya' always do..." He places the hammer down, and his hands come to fidget at his side. "There's a party being held soon, outside the church. It's a picnic on the lawn sorta' thing, we have one every year. It's a real big deal." You raise an eyebrow. "I guess what I'm tryna' ask is if you'd considering going with me? I could show ya' around, help you meet some of the other townsfolk. Hell' ya' could even meet my sisters! I bet ya'd get along swell." His smile become shy, his freckle disappearing into his skin as a bright red blush covers his face. He hopes you think it's just a sunburn. You sigh, and shake your head. "I'm sorry, Joey. I don't think so..." You say. He frowns, but quickly nods. "Nah, I get it. It's kind of a big event. Maybe we could start with something smaller, maybe just the two of us? Say- I know a real nice spot north of the creek, I could take ya down there, a-and we could-" You let out a loud groan, and stomp your foot.

"No, Joey! It's not that I don't want trampled flowers, or I don't want to go to some big event with all you hick's, it's that I don't want you!" You exclaim. His face falls immediately, that light in his eyes extinguished like squashing one of the fire flies you'd see in the fields on a hot evening. "What..." He mumbles, shaking his head a little. "I don't want to date some small-town guy, okay! I don't even want to be in this town. I have a life back in the city, where I belong. Shit, I've got a BOYFRIEND!" You yell. His sadness at your rejection falls for a minute, and he seems to freeze his panicked breaths. "Ya- Ya' gotta' beau already?" He asks, his voice trembling as he swallows heavily. "A beau? What the hell does that mean, some kind of country talk? Yes, I have a boyfriend, and a very handsome one from the city at that." You sneer, turning your nose up at the boy.

"He pretty?" Joey mumbles, licking his lips as his gaze falls to the floor. You raise an eyebrow at the odd question. "Yes, he's very handsome." You respond. "S' got a lotta' money?" He asks. You nod again, not bringing yourself to be able to speak at Joeys sudden change in demeanor. When Joey does finally look up again, his face is no longer blushing red, but red with shame and embarrassment. Tears prick at the corners of his eyes. "W-well, it ain't gonna work out. I know how boys from the city are. They only want one thing from girls... that's what the preacher says." He points out the barn door. "You know Peggy, from the grocery store? She went and ran off with a boy from the city once. H-he knocked her up and left her alone, no where else to go. She came back to town, and she eventually married my brother Samuel. She always says he's the best thing that happened to her. He saved her..." Joey whimpers, his fist trembling at his side. You scoff. "Please, boys from the city have plenty to offer-" He cuts you off. "MORE THAN ME?!" He yells, a sob cracking his voice. "Have you done it with your pretty beau? Has he made you feel good?" You gasp, shocked at his vulgar question. "I don't have to tell you that..." You exclaim. "I'm not asking, I'm tellin' you to tell me." His voice is now filled with an equal tone of contempt, though you don't think it's direct at you, but rather the image of your boyfriend he's conjured up in his head. "He has. We've had sex before, he was my first." You say, swallowing nervously as you try to stand your ground.

"Then lemme ask you one more thing..." Joey huffs. "Is he gonna' marry you? Get ya' a nice house, some pretty dresses, keep ya' safe?" You shrug. "Uh, we're only twenty, we don't need to think about that." Joey shakes his head. "Cause'... Cause' that's what I'd do for ya'. Get you a nice ring, somethin' to match all your pretty dresses and clothes from the city. I'd build ya' a house right on my ma and pa's land, make sure we're still close to the family, but still give us some privacy..." He swallows harshly, taking a few steps towards you. "But most of all, I'd make sure you were safe, safe from any city boy who'd try to get off in ya' and then leave." He's now only a few inches from you. "And I intend to do that." He whispers.

You gasp as his calloused hands grab your wrists, turning you around to face the barn wall. He frees one of his hands up and moves to the stall door he was working on, bumping it open with his hips and shutting it behind the two of you. "L-Let go you brute! Get off of me!" You yell. He rips the red patterned bandanna he usually wears around his neck to keep the sun off, and quickly shoves the cloth in between your pretty, soft lips. As you try to kick, your feet only seem to bounce off the boys firm chest. "That's one thing about us farm boys, we're pretty strong. Firm, ya' know?" He whispers. He forces you to turn over, and you sit on the floor of the stall with your back to the wooden wall of the barn. Joey fumbles around, looking for something. His hand brushes across a rough rope for leading the horses mixed into the hay of the stall, and in just a few moments your hands are bound up to a horse feeder, just above your head. You whine through the gag, tears beginning to fall down your face. He shakes his head.

"Nah, c'mon now... don't cry. It's gonna be okay, I promise ya'." He whispers, brushing away one of your tears with the pad of his thumb. "Don't be scared, I'm not gonna do anything that hurts ya', I just wanna prove to you how good I can be. I realise, I can give you all the things that I said earlier, but... but I know the one thing that city boys have given you." Your eyes widen when you understand his words. He smiles softly. "I know the pastor says we should wait till' marriage, but I kinda need to convince ya' to marry me, and I know now to do that I have to prove that I can give everything some city boy can, and more." His hand comes to rest on your knee, before he uses the palm of his hand to bunch up the fabric of your pink skirt, now smudged with dirt. "Sorry about the location, didn't want anyone to see us. I-I'll buy ya' another dress after this, one even prettier, okay?" He says. Hiking up your skirt, your trembling thighs are visible to him, and the sheer lace of your panties allows him to see you without even taking them off. "Wow, I've never seen something as pretty as this..." His fingers trace the top of the lace, brushing your outer lips slightly. Despite your fear, the contact with a sensitive spot makes you whimper through the makeshift gag. "Maybe I don't wanna get ya' a new dress, maybe I want to see ya' in more of these." He laughs a little, rubbing the back of his neck.

His rough hands try to pull down the fabric around your womanhood, though your resistance makes it hard. Eventually, he groans and simply rips the lace in two, tucking it into the pocket of his overalls. "Surely, since this is damaged now, ya' won't need it." He mumbles. He toys with just the fabric in his hands for a moment, his curiosity evident, before he turns back to you. "I'm gonna get a look at ya', okay? See what exactly a pretty girl like you is workin' with." He roughly slots himself in between your knees, making closing them impossible. His large fingers part your folds, giving him a full view of your moist, aroused pussy. He bites his lip, letting out what can only be described as whimper. "G-geez, darlin'. This is definently better than them' health videos they used to show us in the schoolhouse..." He sighs. Joey's face falls for a moment, suddenly insecure.

"I guess you'll be wanting to see me now, too." He removes one hand from your inner thigh, and unclasps the shoulder straps of his overalls. "I-I'll admit, I know there's a little more to all this, but I only really know the basics, so I'm gonna show ya' what I know how to do. Rest assured though, I'm a quick learner." He stammers. His hand is shaking, and it takes several seconds for him to even undo one button on his overalls. Eventually, they fall, resting just below his wait. He lifts his button up shirt slightly, revealing a pair of briefs, and a very prominent bulge. He blushes as he looks down at it, and your eyes widen at the size. "Y'know, I've never had to deal with these before I met ya'. But, sometimes I go home and thinkin' of you is the only way to get em' to go away." His face is even redder with shame. He pulls the briefs down, allowing his cock to spring free. It's thick, and veiny. Somehow, it's freckled, much like his face. He spits into his hand, shivering as he rubs it down his length. "Sorry I don't have something better than my spit. I know it's kinda' gross, but, we are doin' it in a barn." He pulls his hips forward a little, rubbing the tip of his cock against your entrance, which against your will is now soaked with arousal. "See, I've already got you wet, I can do whatever that boyfriend back home can do for ya'." He says.

"Listen, I know ya'd said you've had sex with him, but I know it can still hurt a little. So, I promise to be real gentle with ya'." He stroke your face with his free hand, and presses his chapped lips to your forehead in a tender kiss. "I'll never get over how much softer you are than me..." He whispers. He begins to hump his manhood against your entrance, biting his lips each time he angles away from you instead of penetrating. "Huh, this is a lil' harder than I thought..." He seems upset at the idea he is under-performing. He takes his hand, and with a solid grip on his member, he pushes the tip just past your hymen, making you squeak into the gag. Before he's even fully got the tip in, his legs are shaking at the feeling. "Oh... Oh lord..." He stammers, fighting the urge to put himself in you all at once. He musters all his strength to pull out, then go back in, just a touch deeper this time. After a few thrusts, he's almost bottomed out in you. Despite your shaking head, your pleas for him to stop, muffled by the gag, soon turn to wanton moans. He places his hands against your hips, allowing him to work himself in and out of you. "God, you're so wet, a-and it's tight... God, didn't know you'd be this tight." He shakes his head though, and leans forward. "Not bad though, not a bad thing, darlin'. You feel so good around me, do I make you feel good too?" In a moment of weakness you nod, prompting him to grin widely. He's so overwhelmed in the moment, from the pleasure and happiness, that his eyes begin to swell with tears. He quickens his pace, almost sobbing now. "My pretty darlin', taking me so well. Making me feel so good, such a good girl. Not city boy could give you what ya' need, not like me..." He huffs. He angles his hips up just a bit, so his tip smacks against a spot deep inside you.

At this, you practically convulse, making him continue once he notices your reaction. "I'll make you finish, don't worry. That's what a good beau does, makes you finish..." He groans, his pace now rapid as he hammers at that spot. Both you can him feel a coil forming in your stomachs, ready to burst. "Hah, I think I'm gonna cum to, you wanna' come together?" His minds fills with thoughts as he thinks more on this while chasing his high. "I already said I-I would marry ya', build ya' a house. We could add on an extra room, for a baby." Your eyes widen in panic at the thought. "Don't worry, I wouldn't leave ya' if you got pregnant from this. That's what that city boy did to Peggy, remember?" He moans. "I'd help ya' the whole way. Build our little one a crib, get them clothes, and I'll bet you'd still be beautiful, if your worried about that." He assures you. You can feel his cock twitching inside you, as as the coil inside you bursts, you feel yourself cumming around him. He gags, inhaling a breath at the feeling. Soon, you feel him convulsing to, a warm liquid filling your caverns as he groans. "God, you're milking me, taking all my seed. So good for me... C'mon baby, just let me stay in a little more, fill ya' up." He groans. After a few seconds, he finally pulls out, and pants, wiping some sweat from his brow. He makes sure to close your legs, wanting to keep in all the seed. He chuckles a little. "Y'know, I'm sure that seed'll take pretty quick... my dad says all the McCall boys are fertile..." He pauses .

"That's why I've got so many siblings."

#reader insert #tw.dark content #tw.yandere #x reader #yandere #yandere content #yandere fanfiction #yandere oc #yandere boy #yandere farmer #tw.religion #tw.breeding #tw.noncon #oc Joey #yandere farmboy

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finelinevogue · 11 months

Text

baby fever

summary - it’s wembley night one and you are really warm and pregnant

word count: ~1k

pairing: husband!harry x pregnant!reader

a/n: you can count on an anxious ellie the night before her harry concert to pull through with a blurb

Backstage was chaos.

A good chaos though. The night of a show is always so hectic backstage. A good buzz of people rushing for final checks and enjoying a drink in efforts of their hard work putting the show together.

Mitch was tending to Sarah and their baby.

Madi was vocally preparing for her big moment.

Jeff was here, on the phone as always.

Harry was nowhere to be seen.

And you. Well you couldn’t move far with the size of your baby bump anymore.

Not only was the baby bump heavy to carry, but also made your body ten times warmer than normal. In this heat too, it was not a fun experience.

If you knew where Harry was right now you’d thump him on the head for knocking you up. How dare he.

This was all jokes though and you actually have thoroughly enjoyed being pregnant. Getting tended to and loved on a little extra from Harry made everything worth it. It was no lie that you and Harry were excited. You just had to make it through these tough days first.

Harry had left you in his dressing room, surrounded by fans to help cool you down.

However, he’s been gone for an hour now and the fans aren’t doing anything to help your body temperature cool. Being pregnant in this heat is disgusting.

So, after a good ten minutes manoeuvring, you moved to the bathroom instead, where the tiles were cold.

Now you’re laying on your back, like a starfish, as you attempt to cool yourself down better with the cold tiles.

You’d think this stadium would have air-con…

The tiles weren’t really working either, but they were better than the fans.

“Babe?!” Harry called out from the dressing room, most likely worried for your whereabouts.

He walked in the bathroom moments later, his panicked face slowly disappearing after finding you. He leant against the doorframe on one arm and crossed his legs over as he stood smiling over you.

“Don’t laugh.” You said, eyes closed to try and focus on coming your body down.

Your eyes closed meant that you missed Harry taking a quick photo of you to add to his pregnancy photo album of you.

“I’m not.” He replied.

“You’re definitely smiling. I can feel it.” You said and Harry laughed at that, making his tiny giggle that had your insides fluttering.

“Shut up you.” Harry giggled. “Are you okay down there, baby?” He asked to make sure.

Next thing you know, before you’ve even replied, Harry is knelt down next to you in his shorts and tshirt. One of his hands rests on your belly, whilst your other goes to brush over your forehead.

“Don’t touch me.” You said, eyes still closed to the world.

“That’s something I don’t hear very often.”

“Yeah and it’s also the reason I’m in this predicament right now.”

Harry can sense you rolling your eyes even with them shut.

“I’m sorry, babe.”

“Control the weather better next time.” You replied, making him laugh again.

“Do you want to move or get some water?”

“No and no.”

“Please? At least some water? For me?” He persisted and even though you really didn’t want to move, you knew he was right in making you have some water.

Harry doesn’t really give you the option and instead moves to fetch a water bottle for you.

When he brings it back, you sit up a little with the help of Harry. Harry tilts the bottle for you, as you hold you body up by your hands.

Once you’ve done, Harry sits his back against the wall and motions for you to sit on the opposite side. He would really love for you to be cuddled up against him right now, but he knows that wouldn’t be the best idea for you or your baby.

Now he can see your eyes, he is much happier. Your eyes show him that you’re still happy, regardless of this horrible weather. That sparkle in your eyes is there because of him.

“Thank you.” You tell him, for the water. “Feel like a sausage on a barbecue.”

“A sexy sausage.”

You huff out a chuckle, “I’m too exhausted to even be grossed out by that.”

“Well that just confirms that you’re not 100% yourself, lovie.” Harry laughed.

“I apologise in advance if I can’t make it out for your set, H.” You pout and Harry shakes his head at you.

“Absolutely not. No apologies. I want you and baby safe, okay? You go at your own pace.”

“Might make it in time just to go crazy at Kiwi.”

“So, you mean just nodding your head?” Harry teased you because he knows you really can’t move very much with the big baby bump.

“Maybe even tap my foot.” You carried on the joke.

“Oh jheez babe. Don’t overdo it.”

You smile and Harry copies you.

“I love you. I’m so fucking proud of you.” You tell him.

“It’s funny how I’m about to play a sold out stadium and yet I’m more proud of myself for finding you and becoming a parent with you.”

You hum in delight over his words.

Harry chuckled, moving forward to bend and kiss your bump gently, “I love you baby.” He says as he leans up and finds your lips next, “And I guess you’re okay too.”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #ask finelinevogue #harry blurb #finelinevogue #harry styles concept #harry oneshot #harry styles blurbs #harry styles fluff #harry styles dad #dadrry #harry styles wembley

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undertheorangetree · 4 months

Text

In The Woods Somewhere

Summary- Coriolanus does not intend on returning to the Capitol alone.

Warnings- MDNI 18+ DUBCON Female reader. TBOSAS spoilers technically. Reader is essentially Lucy Gray. Porn with plot. Toxic relationship. Possessive Coriolanus. Chasing. Biting. Restraint. Choking. Edging. Overstimulation. Fingering. Cunnilingus. P in V sex.

Author’s Note- Happy holidays! This is not our regularly scheduled programming but I have Hunger Games/Tom Blyth brain rot so here’s this monster. Please heed the warnings and link to the full fic on AO3 below

She knows the moment he looks up at her, rifle clutched in his hands, that he will not be coming north with her. Not anymore, not now that he has the one thing tying him to this place well in hand.

She isn't a fool. She knows that his feelings for her played only a small role in his agreeing to come with her but she had been willing to overlook that. When he had cupped her face in his hand and swore that he would join her, that they would escape Panem- and their collective noose- together, she had seen the hesitation there. Coryo was not a man built for nature, no more than he was built for the districts, but she loves him and so she had ignored it. Twisted it into something romantic and noble in her head, that he would give up all this, that he would leave behind everything for her. He had promised her earnestly and she had taken him at his word.

But with the look on his face now, some potent mix of elation and relief washing over him like a wave, she knows she never stood a chance.

"It's the gun," he says, and she hates the tone he uses. The way he almost breathes the words, the way he looks up at her with the ghost of a smile on his face. Had she had doubts about what the guns would inspire in him, the look on his face is enough to prove her right.

"The one you fired at Mayfair," she says with a nod, crossing her arms over her chest. It feels almost protective now, as if she can safeguard her breaking heart. "Spruce must have known about this place too. I guess it's not as secret as I thought. We hide that and you're free."

"No more loose ends."

The way he says it, his hands tightening on the barrel as he looks down at the rifle, makes her blood run cold. This is all he wanted, nothing short of a dream come true. She doesn't like it, her reaction just as much as his own, and she fights to push passed it. Tells herself that there is nothing wrong here, not really, that he is entitled to some semblance of excitement, but she can feel that unease gnawing at her gut. It feels like an omen. A warning.

She grins, hoping to seem more at ease than she truly is, and feels her nose scrunch up teasingly as she says, "Besides me."

It's the wrong thing to do. Immediately, he goes rigid, eyes darting up to look at her and she sees the distrust there, akin to a beaten dog. It wouldn't be as startling as it is if not for their conversation in the woods not even an hour before. He is willing to kill if backed far enough into a corner and is that not what she has just done? Reminded him of the power she held over him with this knowledge? Backed him into a corner? And just like that beaten dog, she can see that he is only a moment away from snapping at her with pearly white teeth.

"You wouldn't... tell anyone?"

She feels her eyebrows draw together, all attempt at joking gone. It hurts a little, what seems to be a complete lack of faith in her, and it's almost surprising. Almost. "Course not."

But would she? She doesn’t really know now. The fact that he believes she could, as if she could exchange his freedom for her own, feels like the final nail in the coffin. She could forgive his dislike of the idea of heading north, the relief on his face when he saw the guns. But what he said in the woods- three’s enough for me- and his distrust of her now… she doesn’t think she’s safe with him. All their talk of trust, of how he agreed it was worth more than love, thrown to the wind all for the sake of a duffle bag full of rifles. Because just as easily as those gun could buy her freedom, they could secure his own too. One small step toward returning to his life back in the Capitol. He was going to leave before killing Mayfair, she knew that. And if there’s no weapon linking him to the crime, he could. Because no matter how badly she wants to believe he wants a life with her, she thinks he wants his old one back that much more.

And she isn’t sure just what he is willing to sacrifice to get rid of all those loose ends.

She feels herself smile again, moving on autopilot to fetch the knife she knows is on the shelf near the door. It doesn’t reach her eyes but she isn’t looking at him, gripping the handle of the knife a little too tightly. “I think I’m gonna go dig up some katniss. There’s a good patch down by the lake, don’t know when we’ll come across it again.”

His suspicion only grows at that, lips parted and head tilted in question, and she knows she needs to go. Though his finger has not yet shifted toward the trigger, it hasn’t moved away from it either. He has been a Peacekeeper for no more than two months, but that was more than enough time to pick up all he needed to know about firing a gun. Even if his aim is shoddy, it wouldn’t take much effort to aim in her general direction and hold down on a trigger. She had said it herself, she is the only one left who knew the truth about Mayfair’s death- her murder. If he wanted to go back to the Capitol, he needed to be damn sure there wasn’t a chance of his time here coming back to haunt him. As it is now, she is the only thing standing between him and the Snow penthouse.

“Thought you said they weren’t ready yet,” he protests, that uncertainty still more than apparent.

She prays her smile doesn’t look as forced as it feels when her eyes flick up to look at his handsome face, doing what she can to seem nonchalant. “The world changes awful fast.”

She pulls the door open, the rain pounding against the porch outside, when he calls her name. Her grip on the knife tightens a hair more before she’s turning back to look at him, keeping her eyes wide and innocent as she tilts her head in question. She knows she hesitated, knows he caught her if the look on his face is anything to go by, but rather than let her panic consume her, she focuses on his eyes. The beautiful, brilliant blue of his eyes. That may be the thing she misses most about him, after all this.

“It’s still raining.”

As if a little rain is enough to stop her from saving her own life.

“Well, I’m not made out of sugar,” she grins, taking one last look at him before shutting the door, placing some kind of barrier between them.

Read the rest here :)

#Coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #Coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus smut #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus snow x fem!reader #coriolanus x fem!reader #Coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus x you #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas fanfiction #the ballad of songbirds and snakes fanfiction #coriolanus snow #tbosas smut

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supernovafics · 3 months

Note

With your I’ll be there for you series would you be interested in writing about Steve discovering that he has feelings for reader? I think it would be sweet for him to just find even the silliest things she does cute and then him having a little melt down because he realised he’s liked her along. The series is such a great idea! 💭

𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆

"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist

pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 4.4k words

warnings: explicit language, alcohol consumption, drunk!steve, mentions of steve's dad being shitty, angst

summary: in which steve’s drunk and you don’t hesitate to cancel a date to take care of him

author's note: thanks for the request! probably from the moment i started this series/universe i knew that i wanted to have steve realize his feelings first so this request was quite literally perfect for that lol. this is slightly “while you were sleeping” by laufey inspired hence the title. the slow burn is finally starting to come to an end !! (i’m both happy and sad about that lmao) anyways enjoy<3333

general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Winter 1986

You were in the middle of debating between a black skirt and a brown plaid one that Robin convinced you to buy when you two went thrifting just a few days ago when the phone rang.

Leaving both options on your bed, you went to the kitchen to answer it, bottomless aside from the stockings you had already put on because of the cold late February weather.

“Hello?”

“Steve?” You recognized his voice for the most part, but he sounded a little different. A little far away, like he was calling from the oldest phone in the universe.

“Oh, hey.” The way he said the simple two words both confused and amused you because it sounded as if he didn’t expect you to be the person on the other end of the line.

You laughed a bit. “‘Oh, hey’? Don’t sound so disappointed. You called me.”

“I know. Sorry. I meant to call Eddie,” He said, and it was then that you heard what should’ve been obvious from the moment he said “Hello” to you— the way his words weren’t necessarily slurry, just slower than usual.

He was drunk, and you now recognized the voice that you had become so used to hearing since Steve’s sixteenth birthday when he snuck his dad’s whiskey and you both only had two shots of it before feeling it fully.

“Why would you call him? Aren’t you two together right now?” You asked, your confusion taking precedence over the amusement you felt in this moment.

Earlier that day, before you left the apartment to head to your twelve o’clock class, he told you that he was going to tag along with Robin, Vickie, and Eddie to some art show thing after his shift that night at Family Video; you would’ve gone too if you didn’t already have plans for the night.

“Also, I didn’t know that you could get drunk at an art show,” You added. “I’ll definitely make sure to go next time.”

“I didn’t go with them,” He told you, and before you could ask where he was, he answered the unspoken question. “I’m actually at a bar right now.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “What? Why?”

“Very long story. Dad shit. What else is new, right?” Steve answered with a breath of a laugh.

He made his words sound lighthearted and as if whatever happened didn’t really affect him, but you, of course, didn’t see it that way. Without even being with Steve right then, standing in front of him and reading his facial expressions, you still saw through what he was trying to play off as “no big deal.” You’d known him more than long enough to know that anything involving his dad was usually always serious. And whatever shitty things his dad said to him this time around drove Steve to a bar rather than back here to the apartment to frustratingly rant to you, and that only worried you.

“Which bar are you at?” You asked softly.

“The only place in town, other than The Hideout, that doesn’t card,” He said and then immediately continued. “But, wait, don’t come here, though. I don’t want you to come get me. That’s why I was trying to call Eddie. I know you have your date tonight.”

Just for a second— actually, probably the entire time you’d been talking to Steve— you’d forgotten about the date, forgotten about the reason why you’d just been debating which skirt to wear, forgotten about what you were supposed to leave for in twenty minutes. And that slightly surprised you because, for the last couple of days, you’d been really excited about it.

Meeting Jamie felt like a sort of “meet cute” moment that was straight out of a romcom, one that you probably would’ve laughed at because of how cheesy it was. You bumped into him in the hallway on the floor of your apartment. He was your neighbor’s, Miss Johnson’s, nephew, and you learned that even though he went to a college about an hour away, he was trying to visit her more often. He had been in the middle of leaving when you saw him, and you gave a friendly wave and smile at first and he started a conversation with you. You two then spent an hour talking in the hallway before you headed inside your apartment to start studying for a test and he asked for your number, which led to more long conversations over the next few days until he asked you on a date.

In a way, it startled you how giddy you found yourself feeling about him after only those few days, how easily and quickly you liked him. It was the first crush that you had in a while that didn’t feel completely hopeless.

But now all of that was the last thing on your mind. It quickly became pushed to the side because you knew that your best friend needed you.

You shook your head in this moment even though Steve couldn’t see you. “No, it’s okay, I’ll come.”

“No, don’t, don’t. I’ll just call Eddie.”

He’s probably not home right now, was what you wanted to tell Steve, but you refrained from doing so at that moment. Instead, you said, “I’ll call him for you.”

The drunken sigh in relief Steve let out was immediate. “Okay, thanks, I don’t think I have any more change for this payphone, anyway.”

“Okay, just stay put and stop drinking.”

“The bartender already cut me off.”

“Good,” You said before saying a final goodbye to him and hanging up.

You then picked the phone up again to dial a different number. You, of course, didn’t attempt to call Eddie and you instead called Jamie. He was completely understanding when you told him that you had to cancel the date because of an emergency, and he said that you two could do the dinner and movie on a different night, which you quickly agreed on.

You put on the brown plaid skirt— quickly deciding that it looked better with the white top you were wearing, anyway— before slipping on a pair of shoes and grabbing your coat, shoving your car keys and wallet into the pockets, and then leaving the apartment.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The drive to Webster’s took less than fifteen minutes and the current emptiness of it didn’t surprise you that much. From the handful of times that you’d gone to the place with Steve, Eddie, and Robin, it became a known fact that things didn’t become “lively” until after ten, and it was currently only a little after nine.

You spotted Steve sitting on a stool at the counter, head down in his folded arms. You sat in the empty seat next to him and tapped the side of his shoulder until he sat up and looked at you.

“Glad to know you’re alive, Harrington.”

He smiled at you and you gave him a small smile back, he must have forgotten that he’d told you not to come to the bar.

“I feel barely alive, actually.”

“Still counts.”

Steve only looked at you for a moment, taking notice of what you were wearing beneath your unzipped coat.

“You look nice,” He said and then seemed to realize something and his smile dropped. “Wait, shit, your date. You shouldn’t be here right now.”

“It’s fine. We’re just gonna reschedule it.”

“I’m sorry.”

You shook your head at him. “No, don’t be. It’s just a first date, anyway. Your drunk ass needing a ride home is obviously more important than that.”

Steve laughed a bit. “I guess I’ll take that as a compliment?”

“Yes, you should,” You told him and then watched with furrowed brows as he went to grab the short glass that was in front of him, half full of some dark liquor. He was about to finish what was left in the glass, but you grabbed it from him before he could. “Steve.”

“I still had this from before I called you. I can’t finish it?”

“No, because if you end up throwing up in my car on the drive home, I will have to murder you.”

You looked away from him before he could say anything in response to that and waved at Barry, the usual bartender that you became on a first name basis with after your third time going to Webster’s. Since it was the farthest thing from busy right then, he immediately walked over to you two.

“Hey, Barry, can he have some water?”

He nodded and filled up a glass, sliding it over to Steve and then looking at you. “Glad to see you here. He’s looked like a sad little lost puppy for the past hour.”

Steve stopped mid-sip to scoff. “That’s very not true.”

“Sorry, but I think I have to believe the only other sober person here,” You said and only smiled at the second annoyed scoff he let out, which was hard to take seriously because of his current drunkenness.

Barry got called over by a group of people that just walked in and you silently watched Steve take a few sips from his glass. When he set it down, you lightly nudged his knee with yours. “Do you wanna talk about what happened with your dad?”

Steve simply sighed at first. “He came to Family Video today and went on this huge rant about me and what I’m doing with my life. He thinks my job is shit, and even me going to school part-time isn’t enough. He thinks I’m such a loser in comparison to his friend’s kids who are actually “doing things with their lives.””

You frowned and shook your head. “Fuck him.”

“Cheers to that,” Steve said with a small laugh and held up his glass of water for a second. “He also said that he wants to set me up with this job at his friend’s insurance company, and I immediately said no to that. I’m still not entirely sure what I wanna do yet, but I know it’s not that— some stupid fucking desk job. Especially not one that’s just given to me by my dad.”

“He’s an idiot,” You told Steve. “And also his bullshit is not at all worth the hangover you’ll have in the morning.”

“You might be right about that,” He responded, eyes fixed on his now half-empty glass of water and a small amused smile on his face. “But, it felt good for a second.”

You poked his arm so that he would look at you. “You could’ve talked to me about all of that instead of coming here.”

“I didn’t wanna mess up your date by coming home and talking to you about all of this sad shit. I knew that you’d just worry about me and probably not go,” He mumbled. “And I feel like a dumbass for still messing it up.”

“It’s okay. Seriously. Honestly,” You told him and then playfully smiled as you said your next words. “And you know that I would tell you if it wasn’t okay. I’d definitely hold this over you for at least a week, and force you to clean out Harold’s cage and do my laundry that’s been building up for the past week and a half. But you’re drunk and sad, and I’m way too nice to make you do any of those things.”

He laughed at that, which made you smile wider. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” You said before you stood up from the stool you’d been sitting in. “Now, come on, let’s get out of here before it starts getting crowded. Can you walk okay?”

Steve only nodded in response, which was a nonverbal answer that you weren’t sure if you completely trusted, so you stood close to him as he also got up and pulled some cash out of his back pocket and placed it on the counter.

He then waved at Barry, and you were certain that he probably didn’t mean for it to be so animated and comical, but it very much looked that way. “Goodnight, Barry.”

The bartender laughed a bit when he looked over at you and Steve. “‘Night, guys.”

Steve started heading toward the door first and you followed just a few steps behind him. When he stumbled a bit before even making it out of the door, you grabbed his hand and moved closer to him so that he could drape his arm around your shoulders, and then one of yours circled around his waist.

Leading him to your car was a feat in itself, but once he was settled in the passenger seat and you started driving, he rolled his window down completely and had it like that during the entire ride even though it was freezing cold outside, and that was worse than dealing with his stumbling.

When you made it to the apartment building, his balance was actually a bit more coherent so you didn’t need to do more than just hold his hand during the entire walk to the elevators and then down the hallway to the apartment.

You dragged him to your room and he sighed in contentment when he sat down on the side of your bed; he always liked your mattress better than his own for some reason.

“Wait, don’t fall asleep yet,” You told him before heading over to his room and grabbing a random t-shirt and basketball shorts from one of his drawers. “Here, put this on. I know you’d be mad at me if I let you fall asleep in those jeans.”

“Thanks,” He mumbled with a yawn as you handed the clothes over to him, and then you went to the kitchen as he started changing.

You filled a mug with water and then pulled open the drawer that had the bottle of aspirin in it. Neither you nor Steve were really sure why it lived there instead of in one of your bathrooms, where it probably should’ve been, but you two also didn’t make any effort to move it.

Steve was already asleep and under the covers when you walked back into your room, and you placed the mug and aspirin on the nightstand on his side. You changed into your own pajamas for the night, which simply consisted of an old baggy t-shirt and shorts, before settling in on your side of the bed.

It was still pretty early for a Friday night, barely even ten o’clock, but you didn’t mind going to bed because you were actually a little tired. Steve was turned and facing away from you, but you still watched him and his even breathing for a bit, making sure he was okay before you quickly drifted off to sleep yourself.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Steve didn’t know what time it was when he woke up, but he could tell that it was pretty early because he could see the just sun starting to rise.

The other things he quickly noticed were that he was in your bed and he had a pounding headache, which was a little confusing at first, but then all of what happened last night started coming back to him.

The shit with his dad, the bar, the accidental phone call to you, and then you coming to the bar and bringing him home— he remembered it all.

With a soft groan, Steve slowly sat up in bed, doing his best not to wake you, and then reached over to grab the water and aspirin you left out for him.

He took the medicine and drank most of the water and then laid back down, turning on his side to face you. Your head was against the pillow and even breaths fell from your slightly parted lips. You looked so peaceful like this, he decided, so pretty.

Steve thought about you and Jamie, and how happy you had been when you talked about him. Steve also knew how excited you’d been about the date, and even though you had told him that it was okay that you had to cancel it last night, he still felt a little bad about it all.

He knew that you would probably do anything for him, and that was completely mutual. If the roles had been reversed last night, Steve wouldn’t have thought twice about canceling a date to go pick you up from some dumb bar. And making those sorts of sacrifices for one another never felt like a question, it just always felt like the obvious thing to do.

It didn’t completely make sense at first, but somehow it was that simple and crystal clear thought that managed to shift something deep down inside of him— it harshly drew the line between best friends and something more. And Steve quickly realized exactly which side he lay on.

Which was confusing because the lines of where your friendship began and ended had always felt so unquestionable— you and him were best friends; nothing more, nothing less.

But it was different now, it changed, and it was this moment that told him that it actually had been that way for a while; probably since you two moved into the apartment.

Starting from that day in August your lives became even more intertwined with one another— which didn’t feel entirely possible because of how close you’d been for so long— but it was true. He hadn’t realized how blurry the lines had been getting since then.

Since you two started beginning your days and ending them in the same home. Since so many nights became spent in each other’s beds; nothing more happening than sleeping and late night talking, but still. Since you two got Harold only a few weeks into living in the apartment, and you both immediately fell into your unserious parental roles in the hamster’s life. Since an unspoken early morning weekend routine fell into place where Steve would make coffee and toast and you’d do the eggs and bacon. Since you two became something equivalent to a married couple that had been together for at least twenty years.

And then Steve realized that actually maybe this something more had always been there— maybe it had always been so fucking obvious.

He thought back to the end of Senior year when you two went to each other’s proms and slow danced at the end of the night because you both thought it would be funny, but those moments actually turned into something really sweet and wholesome; and you’d both think back on it during the most randomest of times.

And then he also thought about smaller things, the parts of your personality that made him feel so goddamn lucky to know you. How you always fiddled with the radio and never settled on a station for longer than a few minutes during perhaps any car ride where Steve was the one driving; something that you’d been doing since the day he got his driver's license and you two went on your first solo car ride together. How pretty much anything you did would only make him smile and playfully roll his eyes or make fun of you.

Steve wasn’t entirely sure why he was having this sort of “epiphany moment” right here, right now, in your bed as he looked at you peacefully sleeping next to him.

It, of course, stemmed from you canceling something that he had known you’d been looking forward to for the last couple of days to instead take care of him, he could recognize that. But, what made that so different from everything else you’d done for each other over the years?

He immediately thought that maybe there was no one straight answer to that question because it wasn’t about what was different. Instead, it was about all of those other moments too. They had slowly built upon each other until it came to this one on this February morning— nine years into your friendship and six and a half months into you two living together— and Steve could finally recognize what it all had meant, and he was ready to accept the truth for what it was too.

He liked you. More than liked, actually. He loved you, he was in love with you.

But, you were also his best friend, the most important person in his life, and he didn’t want to be the reason that that ever got messed up. And that thought was what made him finally look away from you and mutter out a soft, “Fuck.”

Steve quickly got out of the bed, and he was surprised, but also completely grateful, that his quick and hasty movements didn’t manage to stir you awake.

He left your room and went to the kitchen. It was early and he probably should’ve been trying to get a few more hours of sleep, but he wasn’t tired anymore.

The realization was the only thing on his mind— in a matter of seconds, it managed to completely consume it.

Everything else that had been happening the past few months finally made complete sense; Steve saw it all in a different way. He now understood why he couldn’t picture any sort of future with Vanessa when he went out with her a few times back in December even though he really did like her, and why he couldn’t see anything with anyone he went out with. Because deep down, he knew that he could only see that with you. It made sense why his dating life had been in such a rut lately and why he didn’t particularly mind it all that much.

When you two would jokingly say that you both were completely okay with ending up “alone together forever,” he realized now that from his side of things, deep down, it had never been a joke. And he wondered if it was the same way for you.

In an ideal world, the answer would be yes. But, things only felt confusing, and if he was being a thousand percent honest with himself, he didn’t know if that answer was yes in this world.

Steve knew that you really liked Jamie, even in such a short amount of time, so that couldn’t mean that you had any sort of feelings for him. Right? Or maybe you just hadn’t had your own “epiphany moment” yet? Should he tell you about his? Should he tell you about any of what just hit him in the past ten minutes?

His brain felt as if it was going to fucking explode with all of the questions circling his mind right then, and the coffee he was making failed to distract his thoughts from everything.

He came to the quick decision that he wouldn’t tell you what he was feeling; it would just be easier that way. There wouldn’t be any way for him to potentially fuck things up between you two if he simply ignored what he was feeling. It was easy to imagine how drastically your friendship would change if he told you everything and you didn’t feel the same. Therefore, he could push it all away to make sure that nothing changed for the worse.

When the coffee was done, he poured some into a fresh mug and took a long sip. Any other time, he couldn’t really stand straight black coffee, but the bitterness tasted good for once; he decided to focus on that instead of anything else.

Steve wasn’t sure how long he had been leaning back against the counter and sipping from his mug before you came out of your room. It could’ve been one minute or ten; right then, time felt as if it was moving both slow and fast.

“Hey,” You said, giving him a small smile and rubbing the tiredness out of your eyes. “I’m surprised you’re up already. I definitely expected you to be passed out until at least ten.”

It felt equivalent to a light switch flipping how quickly Steve felt affected by your smile and simply you in that moment. He’d probably seen you like this a million times before— just waking up and still in your now wrinkled pajamas from the night— but it felt entirely different now. And that was when he knew how fucked he was.

“Yeah, I, uh, I woke up and couldn’t, um, go back to sleep… So, yeah, just came out here. Made some, um, coffee,” He ultimately responded and then inwardly sighed at how flustered he was right then. He let out a quick laugh. “Sorry, blame the hangover for my inability to say sentences right now.”

If that was how he was going to act around you from now on, he knew that trying to keep this a secret was probably the most unrealistic idea ever.

You laughed a bit and nodded, seemingly unfazed by his awkwardness right then, and opened up the fridge. “You think you can stomach eggs and bacon?”

“Yes to the bacon, but I think I should play it safe and say no to the eggs.”

“Makes sense,” You said, closing the fridge after grabbing the bacon. You placed the pack on the counter near the stove and then looked at Steve. “You feeling better about all of that dad shit?”

It was almost comical how even though it had been the reason for everything that happened last night, the conversation he had with his dad was the farthest thing from his mind now.

“I’m good, actually.”

“Good,” You said, smiling at him and then reaching out to grab his hand and give it a light reassuring squeeze; which, unknown to you, made his heart feel as if it was going to somersault out of his chest. “Remember, the next time this happens, come to me and we both can get drunk here for free. Or we can just run away and join the circus, or whatever it was we agreed on when we were twelve.”

Steve only nodded and gave you a small smile in response because it felt as if that was all he could do at that moment. If he attempted to say anything, he felt like his words would’ve started or ended with, “I’m in love with you.”

He changed his decision then. He knew that he had to tell you everything because it wouldn’t be easy to simply bury it down and ignore it. There was no way that he’d be able to keep this from you, at least not for a long time, it was already swallowing him whole. And although he had no idea when or how he would tell you the truth, he made a quick promise to himself that he would do it.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things fluff #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington x reader smut #stranger things imagine #stranger things series #stranger things smut

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fairydustblossom · 7 months

Text

encroaching promises

azriel x reader

summary: based on this request "I would love if you wrote something where Azriel was a dick and he has to GROVEL. (Angst feeds my soul) please and thank you."

category: angst (i just rly love it)

word count: 4.8k

warnings: slightly nsfw in some parts, emotional (not physical) disloyalty ?? maybe ?? kinda ??

notes: umm this was so fun to write! it came to me so fast like I didn't even have to edit it?? hopefully it's good lmao anways i hope you enjoy this @liddyr03, thank you for sending in a request!!

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Something had shifted between you and Azriel. It had been a gradual shift, one you had felt coming on for some time- but you could have never expected the reason for the growing distance between you and your mate.

He had been working longer hours, waking up earlier, barely spending any free time with you and you knew the middle Archeron sister had a part in it. You had tried to ignore it, their growing closer. Azriel had taken a liking to her. At first, your heart had warmed at Azriel’s willingness to help. There had not been many opportunities in his life where he could help someone directly, not just in a battlefield or in an interrogation room. You witnessed the impact it had on him, you could feel his inner peace, the way he viewed himself, his self worth improving- and you were proud of him. You really were happy that Azriel was finally seeing himself in a way you had always seen him. You believed in kindness, in helping others, in going above and beyond for someone in need, you had always preached it to Azriel. It had been one of the things that had drawn him to you, seeing in you traits he wanted to possess. But now, it had gone too far.

You had noticed Elain and Azriel growing closer and closer. You had pushed your wariness aside, opting to be kind to her, hoping to help her in the way Azriel was doing so. Maybe she could be a good friend to you both, you thought. But Elain had not been as welcoming to your helping hand. Instead, she had treated you as she had treated all other fae, like you were a monster, personally responsible for her family's misfortune.

You tried time and time again to be graceful, to brush off her rudeness. You chose to be understanding, to put yourself in her shoes. But still, she treated you poorly. When you would join Azriel in visiting her, you noticed the difference in treatment. How she would look at him, and how she would look at you, like you had something she wanted.

Eventually, you stopped joining Azriel in his visits, finding it hard to control your feelings of jealousy and not wanting to come across as an irrational possessive mate. He was only helping her get better, you told yourself.

After you stopped going together, you noticed how his visits grew longer and longer. The longer he would be there, the more you would question it. What are they doing? Why is she keeping him there? Is it him that wants to stay longer?

The questions would run through your head until the moment he would walk into your shared chambers. You would lay your eyes upon your tired mate, but you would catch the gleam in his eyes, happy with himself for doing some good for once, and you would push aside all jealousy. How could you ever doubt your mate? The very same male that had worshiped you for years, that had vowed his undying love to you, who was bound to your soul. And so you would welcome him home with open arms, letting him fall to bed, little words spoken of his day.

It kept on like this, for months, till a whole year had passed and you no longer recognized your relationship with Azriel. You barely spoke anymore, going through your established routines around each other in silence. What had once brought you so much comfort, now left you fretting that something had irrevocably changed. You knew next to nothing about what Azriel was thinking, of where he spent his days, although you had a good idea of who he spent them with. You who had once been his closest confidant, wrapped in his arms till late hours of the night, whispering every thought that crossed through your minds to each other. You were barely having any sex. What used to be almost a daily activity, was now a hurried fuck in the dark, taking no time to explore one another's bodies, only looking for a quick release. You hadn’t actually seen your mate’s body in months. Had Azriel finally had enough of yours after all this time?

Elain’s smell had practically been imprinted on him. You never smelled any sex, no, and you thought, no you hoped, that Azriel would never do that. But it hurt all the same when you could smell her on his clothing, for that only happened when a fae was around all the time.

You had decided to take matters into your own hands. You were waiting for Azriel to come home, wearing his favorite silk slip that you had surprised him with on the night of your mating ceremony. Determination drove you- you would not let him go to bed without first feeling satiated.

And so you waited, your belly fluttering with parts equal nerves and excitement. You were excited because you knew your mate would melt at the sight of you, and love on you like you were accustomed to. You felt maybe all you and Azriel needed was one night to destress, to reconnect and everything would be back to normal.

When Azrile came home, his eyes immediately darkened at the sight of you, he recognized the slip you were wearing, images of your mating ceremony flashing through his mind. He was overcome with need for you and it only took a matter of minutes before you were pressed up against the wall, lost in a hungry kiss. You sent all your excitement down the bond and he groaned into the kiss, sending his desire right back. You were elated, nothing pleased you more than the feeling of Azriel against you and feeling the bond thrumming with need.

Azriel was quick to pick you up and carry you to your shared bedroom, tossing you on the bed. You sat up on your knees, wrapping your arms around his neck, wanting to slow this down a bit. You could feel how badly he wanted you, not only through the bond but by the bulge pressing into your flushed bodies. The mother knew you wanted him just as badly, and any other time you would have given into your needs in a desperate attempt to chase the release you were craving. But you wanted to take him in, wanting to drag this out as long as possible, to drink in the sight of his glorious body that your eyes had been deprived of.

You pressed your forehead against his, willing your breath to calm down. Azriel pulled his head back a bit, brows furrowing slightly and a look of confusion overtaking his eyes, “You alright, love?” a wave of worry flowed down the bond, his hands roamed your body, bringing you comfort and spreading warmth all over.

You flushed slightly, butterflies erupting in your belly at hearing the pet name. Your ears perked, not having heard the endearment in so many months. Gods, you had missed him. You smiled shyly at him, and gave him a slight nod. Azriel felt his knees buck, so many years later and a single look from you could make him feel like the inexperienced younglin he used to be back at the camps. You looked so so lovely in that slip, the shy look you gave him, eyes shining with love, and the pink tint on your cheeks he had elicited all warmed his heart. He brought a hand up to your face, moving a stray piece of hair behind your ear, resting his hand at the base of your jaw all while staring intently into your eyes. When he saw your cheeks flush a darker red, he gave you a charming grin, amused and delighted by the sudden shyness in you. He loved that he still had that effect on you, as if you were meeting for the first time.

“I’m alright Az, just taking you in” you murmured, your voice sounding like honey to his ears.

“You can take me in all you want Y/N, I’m all yours to look at” he murmured back, dipping down to place warm loving kisses on your neck. You were delighted by his words, breathing him in deeply, relishing in the smell of his arousal. You felt delirious and giddy all at once, yes, you thought, all mine. Wishing to remind him, you sent the possessiveness you were feeling down the bond, making Azriel growl and nip at your neck more feverishly, marking you as his. He loved when you claimed him just as much as claiming you, feeling lucky to have someone in his life that wanted him as badly as he had always wanted.

The feeling of Azriel’s nipping and sucking your neck urged you on to keep undressing him. Undoing all the clasps you had started unfurling downstairs, you removed the tight fitting top of his leathers. You ran your hands along his arms, taking pleasure in the warmth of his bare skin against your fingertips. Your mouth watered at the sight of him, trailing your gaze up his tattooed arms, to his chest, hands sliding along- when your eyes snagged on something just below his pec and you halted all your movements. Azriel buried in your neck still, stopped as well, feeling you tense up. You pulled back, taking a good look at what your eyes had seen. It was a tattoo. One you hadn’t seen before.

Your heart sank, hurt overpowering any feeling of desire you had been feeling. The unexpectedness of the moment had left you vulnerable, leaving your side of the bond wide open for Azriel to feel the sudden shift in your emotions. He froze, suddenly panicked at why you were hurting and he pulled back, grasping your arms and holding you at arms length. He tried meeting your eyes, noticing they were locked in on his torso. When he looked down he saw what you were staring at.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the rose shaped tattoo resting on his right rib. You didn't know what it meant, but you had a feeling you knew what, or rather who, had been the cause of it. You thought of Elain and her precious garden. You thought of Elain and her treasured white roses. You couldn’t fight the tears that lined your eyes and you moved out of Azriel’s grasp to the other side of the room, wanting to be as far away from him as possible.

Azriel felt his heart sink at the way you fled his touch, as if he had burned you. He saw the look in your eyes and felt his that his world was crashing down.

“What is that Azriel?” you asked, struggling to conceal the wobble in your voice, not actually wanting to hear the truth you already knew.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, looking down at the tattoo your gaze hadn’t drifted from and then looked back up at you. Forcing himself to look at you, even if it made him feel like the biggest dickhead.

“It’s… It’s a promise” he said, wishing he didn’t have to tell you and see the betrayal in your eyes. He had been avoiding this conversation, feeling disgusted at himself for having made the promise in a lapse of judgment.

He saw the fire ignite in your eyes, anger rising at his answer. You already knew it was a promise, and he was aware you wanted more of an explanation. He only hoped you could forgive him, for he did not know if he could forgive you if it were the other way around. Shame creeped up his spine and he mustered up the courage to confess his mistake. He had barely been able to look at himself since the tattoo had seared itself onto his skin and he had opted to ignore it all together- to pretend it wasn’t there. Azriel had done so much pretending, that the tattoo had been fully forgotten moments earlier when he had welcomed and encouraged you to look upon him.

At your lack of response, he cleared his throat and carried on, praying to the mother in his head, for he knew he was about to hurt you and he would hate himself for having caused you pain, “I made a promise. I-I made a promise to Elain.”

You looked up at him then, and the pain he saw in your eyes made him feel sick to his stomach, knowing he has caused it. “Y/N, I swear I didn’t mean to-”

You cut him off, your voice terrifyingly low “What did you promise her Azriel?”

His cheeks were red and his body felt hot with shame as he replied, “I promised I would always be there to protect her.”

His words, uttered barely above a whisper, felt like daggers to your heart. You flinched, unable to conceal the effect they had on you. The tears broke free, you managed to hold in your sobs by biting the inside of your cheeks, but you couldn’t hold back the tears. You were biting so hard you tasted blood, and the world felt like it was spinning. You couldn’t find any words, there was nothing to say. He had promised her something he was supposed to only ever promise you.

“I fucked up. I know I did, I’ve been working out a way to undo it.” He started to plead, taking a few steps to close the distance between you. You stepped away, not letting him get near, barely hearing his words over the rushing sound in your ears. “Rhys and Feyre have been helping me find a way to break it. We actually know how, the same way they broke their deal from under the mountain, we just need Elain to-”

You were done listening to him, his words only adding to the hurt you were feeling. Rhys and Feyre knew your mate had promised his protection to another? Did everyone know? Why hadn’t he told you?

“Leave” you hissed at him. You didn’t care to hear his excuses, you were done. Never would you have ever spent so much time with another male, never would you have ever made such an intimate promise.

“What?” he asked. He had been expecting you to react this way, for months he had been mentally preparing himself. But to hear you actually say it still caught him off guard. “Y/N, please, I can expl-”

“Leave” you said again, your voice strengthening with conviction. “Get out of my home, Azriel.” You felt if Azriel stayed any longer you would go mad, and you meant your words. This was not a home anymore, not with him in it. He had bound his soul to another, and kept it from you. If he remained here any longer, you don’t know what you would do. You could feel your power thrumming in your veins, begging for release.

Azrile looked heartbroken, like a man that had lost everything he cared about in this world. He pleaded with his eyes, pushing everything he was feeling down the bond, hoping you would take back his words. When you only looked away as a response, he knew he had to respect your wishes. It pained him unlike anything else to leave you alone after the damage he had caused but he understood there was nothing he could do at that moment to make it better. He steeled himself, calling all his shadows to him, fighting with the ones that were wrapped around you trying to comfort you, and then he vanished.

You broke down when Azriel left, letting the pain of your failed relationship consume you. The image of the rose tattoo was all you could see behind your eyes and you ran to the bathroom to release the bile that had risen up your throat. You sat there on the floor, picturing all the interactions you had witnessed between Azriel and Elain. You could have prevented this, you couldn’t help but think, if you had only stepped in sooner. If you had only kept that girl away from your mate. If you had only shown her anything other than kindness. You had in a sense, lost your mate to another woman. For how could he spend his days with you when he promised to protect another for the rest of her days?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Azriel knew he had to fix this. He honestly had already been trying to, he wanted nothing more than to be rid of the promise he had made Elain. A promise that she had coerced him into. But to be rid of it, she had to be in agreement. Rhys and Feyre had helped him contact Helion and that is what he had told them. The High Lord of day had also told them it would cause great pain, which Elain had grasped onto in her refusal to break the promise. She argued she had been through enough in the past years to willingly put herself through more pain.

Azriel blamed himself, really. For letting Elain get so close to him, for having been there at her beck and call to the point she expected, no demanded, that treatment from him all the time. He had spent the last few months attempting to convince Elain to go through with breaking the promise. He was doing everything he could for her, hoping if he did enough she would come to her senses and consent to Helion’s spell.

He kept telling himself she was only holding on to this because she had lost everything else in her life, it made her feel that she was finally in control of something- that she didn’t mean his beloved any harm. But Azriel had come to the realization that whether Elain meant to hurt others or not with her actions- she was being selfish with them. He was devoted to you and he would not let Elain cost him what he prized so dearly in his life. His mate, he kept thinking, he would not lose his mate.

Rhys and Feyre were curled against one another in the living room when Azriel winnowed in, looking distraught, wings drooped, and frantic shadows dispersing around the room- swallowing all light. He dropped down to his knees, tears lining his eyes as he looked up at his High Lord and High Lady. They were instantly alarmed, Rhys dropping to the floor to join his brother while Feyra went to Azriel’s side. Rhys grabbed Azriel’s face in his hands, quickly assessing him for any injuries, he tried peeking into Azriel’s mind and only saw your pained expression. Azriel dropped his head on his brother's shoulder, looking like a fallen angel, and he cried. “Please help me. Please, brother”.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

For the next few weeks, you had isolated yourself- putting wards around the house to prevent any of your family from winnowing in. You had felt each of them attempt to come in, to console you, but you refused to let them in.

You couldn’t forgive them, at least not anytime soon, for having kept this from you. You felt embarrassed. You didn’t know how long ago the promise had been made, you didn’t know how long they had known- all the interactions you had with your family since the time Elain came were now painted in a different light in your mind. Had they all thought you a fool? To let your mate get so close to another female, when Elains affections for Azriel had so clearly been written on her face? You couldn’t bear to face them, knowing they had kept this from you.

You had also distanced yourself because you weren’t sure of what you would do if you came across Elain. Your territorial feelings had only been enhanced and you were scared of what you would do to your High Lady’s older sister if you saw her.

Azriel had tried almost everyday to talk to you, but you remained firm in your decision, refusing to yield to his pleas. You had received countless notes from Rhys, the only one who could get past your wards, and had burned them all. Until the latest one. You had been reading when a note appeared on the page you were on. Unlike the other ones, this one did not come to you unfolded so you had no option but to read the words they said. “It is done. Azriel is recovering in the infirmary.” The note raised your heartbeat and caused dozens of questions to rise within you. Suddenly Azriel’s absence the past few days made sense. He had been resolute everyday since you had kicked him out in gaining your forgiveness, staying outside the door to your home waiting for the day you would let him back in. He hadn’t pushed or attempted to break through your wards, and you knew he could, he was the spymaster after all; instead, he had patiently waited, accepting his punishment. Every night, for weeks he had waited, until a few days ago, when he had disappeared and hadn’t come back. You figured he had gotten tired, or given up- you were still too hurt to find out why he had left.

Now, worry filled you. Was he okay? What did Rhys mean by “recovering”? You recalled the time Rhys and Feyre had faked breaking their bond, fooling everyone by breaking the promise they had made instead- you remembered their shouts of pain, and that was the High Lord and the High Lady, the two most powerful fae in all of Prythian.

You quickly stood up, pacing around the room, trying to decide what to do. Deep down you knew even if you didn’t go right now, adamant in your stubbornness, worry would eat you and thoughts of Azriel would consume you. Acknowledging you wouldn’t be able to go an hour without knowing, you made your decision and winnowed to the infirmary.

When you arrived, the sight of Azriel made you gasp. He looked awful. You could see the stark dark circles under his eyes, his ruffled hair, the pain expression etched on his face even as he slept. He looked thinner too, as if he hadn’t been eating well- he hadn’t, you learned later on, too sick at his own actions to feel any appetite at all.

You rushed to his side, grasping one of his hands, they felt cold, almost lifeless, and you reached deep within to the bond that tethered your soul to his, the bond you had buried deep down within you and ignored for weeks. You sighed with relief when you found it and tugged on it. He was still there you could feel, but the bond was dulled, as if life had been sucked out of it.

You burst into tears, never having imagined that the beautiful bond you cherished would ever be in such a weak state. This feeling you had feared, the feeling of Azriel fighting for his life, of barely being there overwhelmed you.

You cried for him, for your love, for everything that had happened until your throat felt hoarse and the tears wouldn’t come anymore. You had sat there by his side for hours, squeezing his hand and murmuring his name over and over, tugging at the bleak bond, willing it to go back to normal.

All night you spent by his side, the sun was now rising over the mountains of Velaris when you felt a hand land on your shoulder. It was firm and gentle- Rhys. You didn’t look up at him, your head pressed against Azriel’s hand, cradled within your own. When your tears had dried you had resorted to praying to the mother, you were convinced if you prayed enough he would be okay and you wouldn’t let anything interrupt the prayers that tumbled out of you.

“Y/N” Rhys mumbled, sitting down next to you, arm now wrapped around you. “He’s going to be okay.”

When he realized you would not acknowledge him until you felt satisfied with your orison, Rhys pulled you into a hug, waiting for you to finish. He does not know how long he sat there next to you, only that the sun was now high up in the sky. You slumped against him, still not letting go of Azriel's hand and started crying again. “You knew” he heard you say, and he felt a pang in his chest. He realized now that not only had you been hurt by Azriel, but he had hurt you as well.

He nodded, “I’m sorry for keeping it from you.” He said “I was only doing what I thought best. I will let Azriel explain everything when he wakes up, I want you to hear it all from him. But just know I am sorry”

He felt your body shake more violently at the mention of Azriel. “What if he doesn’t wake up?” you asked, voice small and filled with agony.

“He will, Y/N. He will.” He pulled you away to look in your eyes, making sure you were taking in his words. “Madja and Helion have both guaranteed that he will wake up, his body just needs to heal.”

You nodded, calming down slightly at his words. “How long has he been here?”

At this, he looked down, embarrassed to tell you he had kept yet another thing from you in hopes that Azriel could go to you himself and tell you he had gotten rid of the promise. “He has been here a few days, I-I didn’t take it would take long for him to wake up. I wanted him to be able to tell you.”

You only nodded, having already guessed as much, piecing together Azriel’s absence outside your door with his unconscious body. Later, you would give Rhys hell for keeping it from you, but currently you had no energy to fight. You leaned into his hug further, needing the comfort he provided and resigned yourself to waiting.

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It took three more days for Azriel to wake up, Rhys had briefly explained that the impact had been greater than it should have been because they had manipulated Elain into consenting to break the promise instead of her going willingly into it. You could feel the anger Rhys felt towards his sister in law as he explained- making sure you understood they had coerced her in a way not too unlike how she had done to Azriel when he made the promise. Your anger towards Azriel had diminished, you still wanted to hear what he had to say, but you were ready to forgive him. All you wanted was for him to wake up.

You were sitting next to Azriel, head nodding off in sleep. After almost four days of little to no sleep, you were struggling to fight it off. Your eyes had fully shut and you could feel yourself drifting when you felt the hand you were holding twitch.

Immediately you gasped and sat up, watching with wide eyes as Azriel’s eyebrows furrowed. He seemed to battle with himself to wake up and once he finally did you stood up grabbing a cup of water for him. He looked at you with daze eyes and croaked out, “I’m sorry”

Your heart melted, his voice was barely there and you shushed him, raising the cup to his lips, urging him to drink some water. He gulped down the water you offered, pulling back to catch his breath, then he looked at you again, eyes filled with sorrow before he whispered again “I’m so sorry, my love”

You only nodded, too overwhelmed with emotion to form any words. Instead, you pushed everything you were feeling down the bond and in return Azriel poured all of his love. You could feel how sorry he was, his love for you, his sadness. His eyes watered at feeling the bond thrumming again, he had been convinced he would never feel it again and he thanked the mother for blessing him with such an amazing mate.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry” he kept mumbling, groggy from his week-long slumber and unable to form any other coherent sentences.

You shushed him and cradled his face to your body, peppering his face with kisses wanting to convey how grateful you were for your mate. You stayed there, curled up against him the rest of the night, letting him know how much you loved him, your mate, who had risked his life to make things right.

“I would do it again, for you, I would do anything” he murmured, head tucked in the crook of your neck, before drifting off into sleep again.

#azriel #fairydustblossom #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acotar fanfiction #azriel acotar #azriel fic #azriel fluff #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel angst

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jinkiezzsstuff · 3 days

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Hey! I really loved your Covkwarming with Alastor Story. Would you maybe want to make one where Alastor is busy and reader wants his attention? Maybe he even snaps at her only to later search for her and make it up to her? With lots of fluff and maybe nsfw?

Hope you have a nice day

-🌸🦇

BRODI! You waited a whole month for this and I AM SO SORRY. I love and appreciate you and your request so much thank you very much for being patient, i really really loved this idea but dang april has been a crazy month for me, i hope you’re doing well and enjoy this fic it’s a longer one!

i’m actually really happy with how this turned out

warnings: SMUT 18+, angst, fluff, mean alastor, you guys fight, gaslighting girl boss alastor, established relationship (you were together before he went missing), loyal reader described, codependency kinda, some horror aspects?, descriptions of alastors dead food, alastor admits his emotions and issues in an alastor way, brief descriptions of reader having self sabotaging habits- drinking smoking/potsmoking too, GN reader although clit is used, penetrative sex, slow sex, swearing, alastor doesn’t like pillow talk lol i think that’s it but let me know not proof read

5.1K words

Alastor was locked up in his radio tower, exhausted as he sifted through various forms of media coverage from his battle. Vox, the little electronic weasel, had his entire affair with Adam recorded and broadcasted around, which was frightful for Alastors image. Not only had he been gone for seven years, but he’s helping with a hotel that endorsed goodness. Needless to say Alastor wasn’t doing okay, his ears were constantly pulled back, smile strained, and he kept blowing the lights up and down. Hell, his static was so violent it even gave him headaches.

Even his shadows at this point began causing chaos, his own anxiousness and frustration bleeding off into them. Alastors isolation caused you to be extremely worried, you weren’t there while he fought Adam, you should’ve been, because since then he’s not been the same. You saw it on TV, the one Vox had broadcasted. Try as he may, Alastor didn’t keep it away long enough for you to not see, there was always someone else putting it back out there.

You didn’t bring it up to him- not that you could; he was too overly consumed in his tower. Incessantly shutting down broadcasts, throwing out power, attacking minor demons for spreading the information. It made you feel so very many unfortunate emotions, never in your many years of being dead have you ever seen him so erratic and emotionally disturbed.

Alastor would play pretend in public but you knew him, as did Husk, the two of you could tell he was tense, strained, constantly ready to snap, his poise was harder to keep. Lucifer presence in the hotel didn’t help at either, constantly trying to get into it with Alastor, which only furthered his isolation. You began to feel extremely lonely, it was rare in hell anyone was a good shoulder to cry on, or ear to hear, but you got used to going to Al after a long day, laying your head on his lap as he caressed your face and hummed you tunes, now you were alone most the time. None of his silly jokes filled the air, no you barging into your shared room and him attempting to hide his messy eating, no soft jazz playing next to you as you slept, no shadows trying to scare you, nothing.

It was incredibly lonely and the time without him showed how emotionally dependent you were on him. You wondered if he felt the same lonesomeness without you around, or if he didn’t even want you around? Maybe he was too wrapped up in his feelings to realize you weren’t around him? Did he have the same need for you as you did him? Did he miss little things about you as you did him.

Throwing your body off the couch and standing pin straight, you cut your thoughts off by marching towards Alastors tower on the far end of the hotel. You hadn’t been up there once since the battle, so this was bound to be interesting, and anxiety inducing. You could already feel the worry prickling your finger tips, making you even more uncomfortable. Knocking at Alastors door was, well, underwhelming, there was no sound, no movement, no indication he was even in there. Even shouting out at him normally would’ve gotten him to at least respond by now, it was rare he left people hanging like that, it wasn’t how he was brought up.

So you decide to cross the boundary you knew he loathed; intrusion. You entered with your breath held tightly making your throat clench, walking in you meekly hummed out his name. “Al? It’s been a long couple of days, I was wondering if you wanted some down time?” Your eyes bounced around the dark room, papers on the floor, radio frequency buzzing harshly in your ears, the low buzz of what sounded like hospital lights, it was all very creepy

Wringing your hands you came up toward his large table connected with cables and speakers, on the table was cups of coffee empty and half drank, corpses and bones of unfinished mutilated deer, and the smell of blood was something that suddenly hit you nearly knocking you back. As you covered your nose with your wrist, you back up and bumped into something, turning around with incredible speed. Alastor was there, taller than usual with his bones looking sharp and broken in his skin, his smile was stretched gruesomely making you nearly grimace, his eyes as well, wildly glaring down at you black and soulless. “Uh, I missed you.” You squeaked curling into yourself just at the sight of him.

Alastor hasn’t ever looked like this in front of you ever, it was such an abnormal and alarming look for you to set your eyes on. Alastor let out a jagged breath, his antlers growing in size with a nasty crunching sound to accompany it. “You disturbed my work, and snuck in, all because you missed me?” Alastor bent down to grab your attention, your eyes flickering to meet his own. You nodded at him, and he only hummed in return, standing tall and walking around his desk to sit at his chair. You turned on your heel to follow his movements, biting your lip with worry. Sure you were anxious before as you typically got with anybody, you weren’t confrontational and you weren’t one to cross the boundary, although you never expected him to look so angry with you.

“Perhaps, if that’s the case, you should find yourself another demon; I cannot be surrounded by the meek and emotionally stunted. My work, my image, will always come first my dear. Now, get out.” Alastor enunciated every word with his hands rested under his chin, and his head cocked to the side. Your stomach dropped and your cheeks watered like you were about to be sick, immediately your eyes widened, noises falling out of your mouth as you attempted to grasp at the words you were trying to say. “S-You’re breaking up with me?” Your voice was a wreck, struggling to expel the words past the sob that wanted to rip out of you, the disbelief evident in your tone. Alastor stood from his seat and leaned toward your face over the table, your lip quivered as he did so, trying your hardest not to cry.

“Heavens no! I’m simply saying if you can’t handle being a secondary priority perhaps you should take some time alone, remember what it is to be your own person! I will not bend my rules for some silly relationship.” His tone dripped with condescension and he finished his sentence with a boop on your nose. The only thing your mind could conjure was ‘how dare he?’ you never felt so insulted by him before. You always put him first, you waited seven years for his return defending his role in hell, and he sees you as secondary to himself. Does that mean he would save himself before you? Was this relationship only about his own desires, his own cravings and you weren’t important? You must be too sensitive about this?

“So you won’t spare me a moment because some stupid TV proved you aren’t invincible? Grow up Alastor please,” You could help the rage that slipped out in between your words, fists clenching, eyes narrowing. Alastor hissed statically at you. “Don’t for a second get it twisted up in your pretty little head that you are special, you are just like every other disposable sinner, i suggest you monitor your tone with me, dear.” Alastor crackled, his voice more electric than you’ve ever heard before. Your frown was deep, the tears silently falling down your cheeks. You didn’t even know what to say, instead you just shrugged with your head low, and turned around silently leaving him behind.

The moment you existed his tower you ran, your brain screamed to get away before somebody could question what was wrong or what happened. You couldn’t stomach the idea of being seen like this, and you didn’t want Alastor to come out and catch you, so you took off. You exited out the back without a trace, wandering into the streets of the pentagram. Eventually you found yourself back at your old apartment, which you still paid for as you really don’t plan to continue living at the hotel. When you got there you were finally able to let everything settle in you, it felt like the sadness slipped into your bones and weighed you down further into your sofa.

You didn’t move for hours, and eventually you ended up falling asleep. You left without a word, without your phone and without any of your stuff. Of course Alastor was very aware he made the choice to say the things he did, but he didn’t mean them, and after a short bit of reflection he could understand it was just an emotional response to the fear of being vulnerable. As well as the anxious thought dancing in his mind about the what ifs, what if he were to die, what if his plan fails and the deal goes wayward and you’re left with the pieces of his mess? What if Vox targets you, what if others do, do the citizens of hell see him as some weak mush because he’s dating you?

It’s all what led him to exploding; insecurity. Even the thought of having such a low tier emotion made his blood boil, but as long as nobody knew about it, he would find a way to quell it. Alastor waited, not wanting to impose while you were still going through thee emotions. However things started getting worrisome by the next day, nearly thirty hours into being gone and the patrons had begun to question him. Obviously Alastor didn’t know, and instead opted to sway the topic away from you and instead to something else.

The week came and gone like a blur, Alastor hadn’t seen you since you came into his tower and the rest of the hotel had set out to look for you with no luck. Alastor kept to his tower, telling himself if you wanted to be away that was your choice; he wasn’t chasing you like some lost puppy. Though he did find himself briefly wondering if you were still alive, after all Vox was out there watching through cameras on every corner and Adam’s corpse went missing and wasn’t accounted for, there was many threats to your safety he hadn’t thought of before.

With a sigh of static frustration, Alastor flicked his hand giving the okay to his right hand shadow to go find you, he couldn’t stand his thoughts anymore. And so it did, within seconds the shadow zipped and zoomed knowing exactly where you were, not that you were trying to hide. It slinked up against the paint peeling wall of your apartment, watching you on the couch, news softly sounding out as you read a book. Your home was a wreck, looking as though you’ve had fits upon fits of rage and lacked to clean after. Dishes piled, laundry scattered all across the linoleum floors. Alcohol, pot and cigarettes were a hefty scent in the room, it didn’t accompany the damp mold smell well at all. Oh what a thing you’d become without Alastor! The shadow watched like a fly on the wall for varying moments, studying you and your state before vaporising into the floor and taking off back to its master.

Honestly, you weren’t expecting Alastor to come knocking at your apartment door, so when you swung it open expecting your usual delivery guy, you were shocked and you didn’t bother fixing your depressed appearance. “Goodness gracious my little dame it looks like you’ve been dragged through mud!” Alastor laughed boisterously using his microphone to push you aside and barge in. You stood aside speechless, watching as he stepped inside with his hands rested just above his tail, surveying the room around him. His neck cracked disgustingly, his body forward while his head faced you, his grin tamed. “What happened here?” The words were simple but his tone was confusing, you couldn’t tell if he was angry, suspicious, or worried. You sneered at him, lip twitching upward as you slammed the door and wordlessly returned to your spot on the couch.

“I didn’t expect you to search, work come first yknow.” Oh yes, you planned to milk the words he said against you to berate him and his attempts to make up, you were in hell for a reason after all. Alastor huffed- like a buck would, something uncharacteristic for him to do outside of being alone with you, which sickeningly made your heart flutter, he still trusted you in a way, did that mean you were still his? You always told him he was more deer then he’d like to admit and those huffs were one of those deer attributes. “Hm yes, but you’ve been quite the work, I hope you know.” You clenched your teeth, trying not to snap instantly, but you did send him a glare.

You muttered about how that didn’t make things any better when he snapped his fingers, all things garbage vanishing in a pinch, mold included. “Ah, much better! My mother always said the state of the house is the state of the mind!” A round of applause sounds from his microphone as he laughed, rounding the couch with a slow stride. “Tell me, would you like to talk?” It felt more condescending then genuine, the way he was bent forward with lidded eyes and an eased smile, like you were some child having a tantrum. “No, Al, you made what you said pretty fuckin clear, i don’t wanna be with you if I am some chore or job, or secondary whatever!- i wanna be your partner and you want me to be a pet? Yeah, no thanks.” You punctuated your sentence with a dramatic scoff, flopping back into the cushions with your arms folded protectively across your chest.

“Ahhh my little doudou,” Alastor chided, sitting himself flush to you, arm around the back of the couch to trap you near him. “I want you to listen to me, and listen to me closely because i will never admit this again!” Alastor exclaimed this with what sounded to be false confidence and a slight hint of exasperation. He pinched your chin in between his claws forcing you to look at him, and of course you did, what else were you to do? “I have become a fool, all across the pentagram, I’m held by ball and chain— the devil my dear! The devil is- some frazzled little nitwit with all the power and no ambition!” Alastors fist clenched at the mention of Lucifer, abandoning your chin to do so. “I was feared my dear, nobody dared to test my authority, and now i’m an assumed bellboy for the princess and her gaggle of misfits. You,” Alastor paused leaning in so close your noses touched.

“My dear, were the only one i actually wouldn’t mind being weakened for.” You couldn’t stop the comical ‘huh’ that gargled straight from your throat. “What does that even mean Alastor.” You whine throwing your head back bumping his arm as you did so, an unknowing invitation to slide it down, hand caressing your shoulder softly. “It means dear, I didn’t mean what i said, because i’ve already done those exact things in the past! I’ve missed countless radio shows from you, refrained from eating deer around you- for your sake. I’ve held you to me on every block knowing Vox could see us perfectly! You were my chosen weakness, darling, but with all these other useless sinners belittling my role in hell, i took it out on you,”

Pausing Alastors static faded in and out, you watched his eyes closely, but the real give away was the way his ear subtly tilted to the side looking like a sad puppy. “I felt what i said, I felt weak and I knew you needed me and didn’t want to feel this weakness anymore, so logically-” You scoffed with a small smirk, mockingly muttering ‘logically’ back at him. “-I had to try to appear as though I am what I originally intended to be.” He finished giving you a pointed look. Shifting your body to face him more, you analysed his body language and face. Typically- no matter how long you’ve been together- he was amazing at hiding his emotions, always seeming to be happy. It seemed like he let his guard down however, his eyebrows were furrowed and pointed upward, his smile tight, shoulders rigid and his breathing shallow. Anticipation was evident by the way his hoof tapped against the floor with beat.

You finally let you emotion reignite, the tears slipped down your face like rivers as you gently shook your head. “What did you intend to be?” You asked softly, an unattractive spit bubble forming as you opened your mouth. “A ruler of sorts, i suppose. Emotionless, cruel, untouchable. I tried to reaffirm to myself by being cruel to you my dear, that i was still a demon, not the altruist teddy bear they all dubbed me as.” Alastors form had finally slumped, sinking into the cushions alongside you, his head falling back gazing up at the ceiling. You caved just slightly at his admission, and rested your head on his chest near his armpit, your body sinking into his. Suddenly he perked up, looking down at you, you reflexively shooting your gaze up to him.

“Yknow they made a mockery of my speech as well my dear! Preposterous, darling, many sinners posted about me being ‘cringe’, my speech was ‘corny’, my dearest can you believe that?” You almost took offence to the fact he sounded more distraught over being made fun of rather than hurting you, but you reminded yourself that Alastor was trying to open up, and you weren’t gonna ruin that. “Is that why you were killing randos instead of overlords?” You asked feeling more relaxed than you had before, obviously there was many words in between you two unsaid, but you wanted to bask in the small talk you craved for so long from him just a little longer.

“Precisely. I’m proud you noticed.” You hummed with a small smile, your head resting back on his chest. “Why did it take so long for you to come?” Despite not even thinking he would, you now had the knowledge he didn’t actually hate you, and if he didn’t why’d he drag it out? “Pride,” What would’ve been a hoarse voice to any other demon, was a staticy robotic sound that crackled out of his chest. “This is way out of my comfort my dear, i didn’t and still don’t know what to say or do, and i don’t like being out of control.” You whimpered at that, curling up into him, your legs slinging over his thighs so you could cuddle up next to him. Immediately his arms engulfed you, pulling you into him with a happy hum, his neck craning to kiss your head softly.

“i missed you, you really hurt me, bad. Don’t do it again.” You state firmly though it was muffled by the fabric of his coat, the one you had your face nuzzled into. Alastor hummed out softly petting you on your head, just like he would before. “Never again doudou~, you have my word, and i promise to make it up to you.” Tiling your head upward you yanked at his colar, and he immediately ducked down meeting your lips at will. The kiss was soft and Alastor could feel the dampness from your tears on your chin against him. After a moment you both pulled away, although not far from eachother your lips were practically still touching.

“Why don’t I give you some attention my sweet doe.” Alastor cooed against your lips, you could hear the mischief in his tone as his hand pawed your hips. You blinked slowly at him, an instant twist of desire appearing low in your gut. “How?” Alastors grin widened for the first time since appearing at your door, and you feared you��d truly be in for it tonight. “Oh my, have i neglected your needs so long you need to inquire how?” Alastor question was rhetorical only furthered by the way he kissed his teeth with his index finger coming up to shake side to side. “That simply will not do!” Standing suddenly, with you in his arms, made you gasp and clutch onto him instinctively. You smacked his chest playfully, muttering to him about being too heavy, he however ignored you, walking toward your old room with his head held high.

The room in question was a mess, and a thick layer of dust coated every object that wasn’t being continually used, like the nightstand, and the lamp. Alastor didn’t care much though, he never did care whether you were messy or super clean he’d always snap his fingers to assist you, and that’s exactly what he did. Slowly around the room things cleared up, his shadows slunk into the room with strange looking candles setting a romantic tone for the room. The bed was remade neatly when he set you on it gently, watching your doe eyes stare up at him with a familiar intensity that always made him fidgety. You let him flop you down without complaint, after all it wasn’t always that Alastor seemed so interested in getting down and dirty.

Standing above you, Alastor grinned down at you with lidded eyes, letting his long fingers dance down his chest to undo his buttons. He wasn’t really a fan of trying to appear sexually appealing to those around him, he’d never admit how out of the ordinary, and awkward it felt, but he knew you. You were his. You were loyal. You waited seven years just for him, never spilling a single secret. Secretly, he was way more comfortable with trying to appear “sexy” for you, because he knew no matter what, you wouldn’t look at him any differently. Alastor shrugged off his jacket, his button down shirt open exposing his chest to you. “Y'know dear,” A bit of southern drawl slipped out, as the mask he wore slipped away with his jacket. “You give me a very special outlet i do not think i’d have with any other sinner, you’re too kind to me.” Pulling off his shirt, he folded it and set it aside, kicking off his slacks right after, leaving himself in his boxers and long socks.

You watched him undress with wide eyes, you wanted nothing more then being pressed against the warmth of him, absorbing his touch. You however stayed still, letting Alastor relax into the mood as he rid himself of clothes. Alastor sat on the edge of the bed, right beside your hips, his hand traced lightly up and down your torso, occasionally dipping down to your thighs. You felt tense at the touch, both anticipation and insecurity making you feel stiff. Suddenly his claw hooked around the band of both your undergarments and pants, his eyes flickering up to inspect you when he did so. “May I?” His voice was soft, the usual uncertainty present as he felt out of his realm. “Yes, please.” You sigh, your tone nearly whiny. “I missed you so much Alastor,” You admit hushed as his claws brushed down your thighs with your clothes. Once off, Alastor leaned down, giving soft pecks to your thighs, eyes staring up to you through his red lashes. “Yes dear, my life been painstaking without you.” He whispered against your flesh, sharp teeth dragging up past your hips, nose bumping the cloth of your shirt. Sitting up slightly, you were preparing to slid your shirt over your head when Alastors body slid between your legs, claws coming up to pinch and lift the fabric exposing your chest.

With him now face to face with you, leaned over your body, you caved. Your hands slid around his neck guiding him toward you slowly, your lips met instantly like two magnets being held just inches apart. It was a sweet kiss for the most part, your lips meshed against his as you let him control the pace, it was nice with Alastor you always had enough time for the heat to simmer and grow, making foreplay unnecessary most times because he naturally took his time. You raked your fingers through his hair, nails scratching up his scalp causing ripples of goosebumps down his arms. Alastor slipped his tongue delicately licked at your lip, brushing as soft as ever. You were a bit shocked at this, typically he wasn’t into french kissing, lamenting that the whole tongue thing was messy and disgusting feeling. However you didn’t fight him, only allowed him access, which he immediately took with ease slipping his tongue against your own.

His body collided into yours, nose bumping your cheek as he angled his head. Your hands slipped down his back, smiling against his lips at the feeling of his tail wagging back and forth making small gusts of wind against your fingertips. Alastor nipped at your lips in retaliation, hands roaming your body as he pushed his hips up to softly grind his hard on into you. You hummed at the feeling of him against you, angling your hips back and up pressing your wetness against his briefs. Your body was buzzing while Alastor slowly grinded himself down on you, his clothed head travelling between your folds and back up to poke at your clit. The kiss had broken as he continued on, your breathing shaky as you enjoyed the slow motion of him above you, his teeth scraping down the length of your neck.

Alastor couldn’t help the groan that bubbled out of him. Not only could he smell your arousal but he could smell just you. He pressed his face to the nape of your neck, kissing and inhaling, loving the smell you had naturally on your skin. He also got quite the kick out of hearing the blood rush through your veins, it made him feel feral knowing you would bare yourself to him so willingly, he had you around his finger. Alastor let his lips glide down your body, leaving bite marks down your chest and neck as he did so, hips still moving slowly against you. You had soaked his briefs making the fabric feel absent, clinging to every ridge and vein of his cock slide through your folds. “Please Al, I need you.” You whined pathetically, pressing your hips up into his. Alastors choppy breath warmed your collar bone, his forehead rested on your shoulder, eyes closed as he slipped his hand down, yanking himself out of his boxers.

Sometimes he felt like an untrained dog, he couldn’t help but want to hump into you without restraint, but that wasn’t him, that was desire, and he knew how to hold back. As he sunk into you, slowly, he breathed out the quietest of noises against you shoulder, basking in you. You could hear his quiet noises clearly since he was so close, you bite your lip at the sound of him, loving how he always let you see him so wrecked. When Alastors hips were flush with your own, your legs came up around his hips, his tail stiff, while your arms wrapped around his neck, your right hand dragging up his scalp to his ears. “I like hearing you, Alastor,” You gasped as he jolted into you, like an involuntary reaction to your praise. “It makes me feel you.” You finished breathlessly. Alastor hummed against you, setting his pace slow and deep, barely pulling away before he pushed hard back inside you.

Your eyes were wide as he continued this rhythm, to you it was incredibly overwhelming, he never left you vacant always hungry to fill you right back up with him. His pants against you were also adding to your arousal, his eyelashes fluttered against your skin ever now and again as he attempted to contain himself. You knew he was sort of embarrassed with himself feeling pleasure, so you never egged him on when he did start making noise, but lord you wanted more. You tugged Alastors hair softly, pulling him up for a sloppy opened mouth kiss. He barely opened his eyes as he mushed his lips against yours, snaking his tongue against your own, bucking up faster into you at the warmth of your mouth. “I missed you, i love you,” You cried against his lips pathetically, your body’s both rocking on the bed as Alastor hurried his pace.

Alastor let out a low guttural noise, something from the back of his throat making your toes curl, pulling at his hips with your legs. “I couldn’t- stand you being away, dear.” Alastors face was inches from your own, forehead rested on yours, lips brushing against each other as he spoke. “Never again will i be such a fool, you’re mine forever.” Alastor growled through his clenched teeth, claws ripping into the mattress as he spoke. Your mouth hung open, eyebrows raised as you tried to from some sort of praise, but now his eyes were open looking down at you with such intensity and emotion, and his pace fast hard putting your body straight into the mattress. You didn’t even feel your orgasm coming on when it did, your body arching up into his, crying out his name alongside pleas.

The display of you in front of him was so pornographic, something he wasn’t fond of seeing but now understood why people were. You were gorgeous right now, your face red, your eyes watering, your body folded up towards his, all the scars, folds marks on your body, all for his eyes only. Groaning loudly, he fell back into his favourite place, your neck, and let out a deep breathless static moan as he came. You clutched him the entire time through watery blurred eyes, enjoying the feeling of him inside you post orgasm. Pulling away, Alastor was quick to pull out and away, snapping his fingers he began to clean you with a cloth. “Disgusting of me,” He muttered, seemingly angrily. “No, it was good Al, you’re allowed to. You’re not disgusting and neither was the sex, believe me.” You coo, sitting up from your position, a dopey look on your face. In a snap, Alastor was redressed as were you, in leisure clothing. “We’re going back to the hotel to sleep my little doe.” Alastor spoke softly, lending his hand to you, humming you took his hand letting him take you through his magic, back to the hotel. You knew Alastor didn’t like to lay sticky in the remnants of sex like many others, and probably would push you to shower before getting in his bed. But that way okay, you loved him regardless, and you really missed having his attention.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel oneshots #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel smut #alastor the radio demon #alastor imagine #alastor smut #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #alastor x y/n #alastor x reader fluff #alastor x reader angst #alastor x you

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help-itrappedmyself · 1 month

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Dead on Main Part 9

My apology for the earlier mishap. Hope you like it!

Masterpost

A few hours later, a fourth of the way home, they start arguing about who should drive the next shift. There seem to be two main arguments. The first is between Dick and Bruce on whether Bruce even needs a break.The second is between Dick and Tim about who should take over for Bruce.

Bruce has been driving for four hours, and it’s now about midnight, so he should take a break to sleep. Dick had napped for about an hour after the panicked stop when Jason’s ectoplasm had gone haywire, and he was the only one who had slept so far. He’s winning the argument between him and Bruce. Because he was the only one who had napped so far, and apparently Tim had been awake for a terrible amount of time, Dick is also winning the argument between him and Tim.

Danny is pretty sure even sleep deprived most people would drive better than his father, and he doesn’t have a driver’s license so he keeps quiet. It’s funny how intense they get in their arguments without ever becoming serious. Danny appreciates that no matter how intense they get there’s never any anger in their voices.

“Tim, you haven’t slept more than five hours in the last two days, you are not driving this car. There is no way you are driving this car. Neither of us are going to let you.”

“Bruce has been awake for 23 hours straight!” Tim argues.

“Which is why Bruce should also not be driving anymore!”

“Tim you are definitely not driving, go to sleep. Dick, If we switch drivers we have to stop and we can��t afford to stop and waste time. We’ll switch drivers when we need gas next.” Bruce states rationally. Danny thinks this is a good argument really.

“If we crash and die we’ll also waste time.” Tim points out, sulking.

“Switching drivers will take all of two seconds and so help me If I am not driving in the next two minutes I am commandeering the radio for the rest of the trip and you know neither of you will be able to stop me.”

Danny isn’t sure why that is so serious of a threat, but that shut both Bruce and Tim up immediately. Bruce pulls over and they do a quick seating change. Since Bruce and Tim need to sleep so one of them can drive later, Danny switches into the passenger seat while Dick slips into the driver's seat. That way Bruce and Tim can stretch out in the back.

“What do you listen to that they dislike so much?” Danny asks a little later. Danny can’t tell if either of them are sleeping, but neither of them have moved at all in the last ten minutes. He’s quiet just in case.

“I mean, I like a lot of music. They just know that I can put on circus music for hours. I grew up in a circus, so I'll even enjoy doing it. It annoys them after like three songs at most though.”

Danny has a moment where all he can think of is Freakshow’s circus, but he shakes it off.

“Did all of you grow up in the circus?” Danny could have sworn Bruce was more like Vlad. Grew up wealthy, ran a business (less illegally, he thinks, but that's not hard considering), and went to parties and stuff. Dick laughs at his question.

“No, only me, I’m afraid.” Dick glances at the back seat, before refocusing on the road. “Bruce adopted all of us, except for Damian. But even Damian grew up with his mother before coming to live with Bruce. So all of us have very different upbringings actually. Circus for me. Jason was next, he had a hard life before Bruce found him, and after too. He’s been through a lot. Tim had rich parents, they loved him but weren't around much. Duke was adopted after his parents died but he was raised by both of them, he had the most normal life growing up.”

“Tim and Damian both found Bruce more than the other way around. Damian’s mom… loves him a lot, but she was in a dangerous situation and wanted Damian to be safe. So she dropped him off with us.” You could hear the love in Dick’s voice as he spoke about his family.

“Your family seems happy. Nice. I mean, you all dropped everything to drive me home. I appreciate it.” Danny thought carefully for a moment, he didn't want to learn too much second hand. He'd rather get to know Jason personally. But some things only family can tell you. “Do you think Jason and I will get along? From what I've heard I know we have similar senses of humor, at least relating to our own deaths. And, well, we have that experience to bond over. But our lives seem like they've been very different.”

Dick’s face softens. “I think that Jason has spent his whole life fighting. For anything and everything. He's not going to stop now. You guys’ll figure it out.”

Danny looks at him. “Have you met your soulmate?”

Dick’s whole face lights up. “I have. We knew each other before the switch, but.. it was still a lot of drama and awkwardness at first. I think Bruce almost had a heart attack when it happened, and then an aneurysm when he found out who it was. That was hilarious.”

Dick glances at Danny, saw him biting his lip and twisting his hands together, eyes in his lap. “We had met, but we still had a lot to learn about each other. Getting to know him has been one of the best parts of my life. He’s my best friend.”

Dick reaches over and ruffles Danny’s hair. “Why don't you try to sleep Danny. You'll be meeting him soon.”

Danny nodded, giving Dick a light smile and settling himself into his chair.

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dead on main #soulmate au #fanfiction #my writing #danny phantom #jason todd

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gay-dorito-dust · 2 months

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Can we have more of domestic Jason but now with him needy of touch? 🥹

the reader got out of bed early to go drink water and he wakes up from a nightmare needing her and he thinks she left him and he starts crying in panic, but then she appears and calm him down with kisses, words of affirmation and lots of love.

Thank u! I love ur writing btw!!

I don’t know if this is what you have in mind, the ending might be a little half-assed but I was half asleep whilst making this 🦦also thank you for enjoying my writing! It really means a lot!

Your side of the bed had barely gone cold which indicated that it hadn’t been long ago that you had left but it was the reason why you’ve left that haunted Jason, who was fresh out of a nightmare and drenched in his own sweat and finding difficulty in calming his uneven breaths.

He had meant to reach out to you for comfort.

Only to be greeted by air just as palm of his hand then hit the lukewarm mattress below.

It was enough to break Jason’s resolve as his innate belief that everyone he ever cared for was destined to leave him- especially you- began to worsen with every passing second the longer Jason allowed himself to be poisoned by the possibilities that you were gone. Disappeared. Or worse yet; taken.

‘Y/n?’ He calls out softly.

‘Baby?’ He tries again, a little louder this time, not having realised that his eyes had started to tear up and blur his vision of his dark room, or that a lump in his throat had started to form, making it difficult for him to swallow down his overwhelming anxiety.

‘Don’t leave me here…please don’t leave me all lone.’ Jason pleads with the darkness of his room as though that would be enough to give you back to him. ‘Haven’t I done that enough?’ He then asks as he clenched the bedsheets between his powerful hands, trying to bound himself to something to combat his discomfort in being left alone with his mind for too long. ‘Being left alone when I was proven too difficult to save? Too far gone to be helped? Am I just that broken to be given just a sliver of happiness?’ He cries out at he pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes as he chocked back his own sobs.

Despite building himself a strong body that could endure punishment, the pain of that of an broken heart had been so excruciating it had Jason keeling over in bed, wanting nothing more then to tear it out of his chest as though it burned him; Or was it in fact just phantom pains from a heart that had been hollowed out by the hands of another.

The door to the room opened and golden light flooded in, eradicating the darkness that threatened to swallow him whole. ‘Jason?’ Your voice called out and Jason never felt more alive than he did in hearing you say his name in that angelic voice of yours, so much so that he didn’t notice that he had begun to cry harder but out of relief this time. ‘I thought- I thought you left. I couldn’t feel you. I tried reaching for you but you weren’t there.’ He began to say but was cut off when you brought him tightly into your arms.

‘Im sorry that I kept you waiting my beautiful boy.’ You cooed as your fingers reached up to comb through his hair, nails scratching at his scalp now and then to assure him of your presence. Jason didn’t hesitate to bring you into his lap as he buried his head deep into your shoulder, wiping his tears against your sleep shirt, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care when he was holding onto you as though you were bound to disappear once he lets go. ‘Where did you go?’ He asks. ‘I got a little thirsty and so I went to get a drink of water.’ You explained, kissing him anywhere that was made available to you.

‘You’ve been strong for a long, long time and I’ve never been more prouder of you for holding out as long as you have with everything you’ve been through, it never fails to amaze me how resilient you are Jaybirdie.’ You felt his breathing even out as he began to lean back into the bed, still holding onto you. ‘You’re truly an incredible man for being able to stand on your own two feet and still find it within yourself to fight.’ You softly told him as you continued to hold him in your arms as he squeezed your waist in response. ‘I’m so unbelievably lucky to have someone like you in my life and I will do everything in my power to make you believe that.’ You promised him.

‘Even if it’s impossible and might take forever.’ Jason says, starting to feel the lull of sleep as it began to weigh heavily on his eyelids.

You smile softly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. ‘Even if it takes an eternity I would still find a way to prove just how beautiful you are.’ You replied, nuzzling into him as his bodily warmth began to ease you into a sense of security. ‘You are the most beautiful man I have ever met Jason Todd.’ You moved to look him in the eyes. ‘A butterfly may not be able to see the colour of their wings but that doesn’t retract the fact that they’re undeniably beautiful.’ You added as you pressed a couple of kissed to his forehead. ‘Now gets some sleep my beautiful boy, I’ll be here when you wake up.’

‘You promise?’ Jason asked, biting back a yawn.

‘I’d be stupid to break a promise I made to you.’ You responded, thinking all was said and done when Jason brought a hand up to your face, showing you his outstretched pinky. ‘Pinky promise me that you’ll be here with me when I wake up.’ He says and you smile softly at the inherent innocence of that of a pinkie promise but still went ahead and linked your pinky with his, pressing a kiss to his calloused and scarred hand with reverence before resting it on his chest. ‘I pinky promise that I’ll be here when you wake up. Was that good?’

‘We’ll see in the morning when I get to wake up to you chipmunk.’ Jason replied, holding you more against his chest and fell asleep but you weren’t complying as you soon followed him into dreamland, your pinkies still linked to one another as a reminder of your promise.

#jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagines #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd fic #dc x y/n #dc x you #dc comics x reader #dc x reader #dc imagine #dc fic #dc fanfic #dc fanfiction

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rosepascal · 3 months

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Blossom (Hanahaki AU) || Joel Miller x Reader

summary: Hanahaki- is a disease in which the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love.

warnings: Hanahaki disease, angst, happy ending, hurt/comfort, not so one sided love, blood, mentions of death/dying, Joel is bad at feelings.

a/n: I've been meaning to write a hanahaki fic for so long and its finally here! I hope you enjoy, I might write more with the other pedro boys with different endings >:)

You can't do this anymore. Everything's become too painful. Walking, talking, breathing. You've been shot, stabbed, punched, but somehow this was the worst pain you've ever felt. Maybe because it's coupled with heartbreak and a sense of unending loneliness.

Not to be morbid but you often thought how you were going to die. Sickness maybe. Lots of people in the QZ got sick. Maybe you'd push it too far with a FEDRA soldier one day. Or maybe a clicker would get you.

After all the times you've come close you're surprised it hasn't happened yet. Or raiders. You and Joel have come across them before and they aren't friendly. Even on your trek to Jackson you faced death multiple times and still made it out alive.

So who would have thought it was from an incurable bullshit disease that you've reached your end. It's funny if you really think about it. Survive a world ending apocalypse to get taken out by unrequited love.

You've hid it well honestly. No one has really suspected anything except for Maria. She's a smart woman and clocked something was wrong immediately. You denied it over and over but when she caught you bleeding from the mouth with flower petals around your feet, well you couldn't lie your way out of that one.

You swore her to secrecy and though reluctant she agreed. She's been helping you with pain medication. Keeping it under the table so no one else found out.

Sadly, it seems your time has run out. The bathroom door is locked and though you feel a sense of guilt for dying so suddenly like this, there's not much you can do now. You can barely lift your arms so getting up to go find help is out of the question. Not that anyone could help you anyways. The ground is bloody and littered with petals that have been growing inside of you for so long.

Hanahaki was rare but deadly. The only cure at this point was for your feelings to be returned. The surgery is out of the question with the state of Jacksons medical facilities. You'd given up hope long ago of Joel ever loving you the way you love him. Even as you sit against the cold lonely walls, dying, you manage to smile at the thought of the man. He was the cause of all your pain but he's worth every second.

You know that love and relationships aren't as easy as they used to be. With Joel he won't even think about the idea of feeling that way about someone. He doesn't have time. It's pointless. It's weakness. That's what he's always believed and though you've seen the cracks of that logic with Ellie. It's different. With her Joel sees a daughter. He doesn't have room for romance anymore. You desperately wish you were enough to change his mind. Not just because you're dying, but because you know he's worthy of love. He's fiercely protective, loyal, and perhaps that is his way of loving. Or maybe it's just his nature.

Even knowing all that about him, you still fell in love with him. Mostly you fell in love with his eyes. Those sad brown eyes that carry so much burden. So much sadness and rage. The eyes truly reveal all to you and deep inside he's just a broken man who's lost so much. His touches can be gentle and though he can't always express his feelings, he tries with you. Tries is the key word but hey, that's still something.

You wonder what will happen when you're gone. If Joel will be sad or if he'll move on and accept it. Will he care? You shake those thoughts from your head. Now isn't the time for that. It's becoming harder and harder to breathe. The energy in your body is draining slowly and you just don't have it in you to keep fighting.

Closing your eyes you imagine a world where Joel did love you. Where maybe the world wasn't horrible and the two of you could just, live. Maybe you'd move in to his house in Jackson with Ellie. He would make coffee in the morning and you'd make him a lunch. You could enjoy life together. Go see a movie, go on patrol. Go on dates where he gives you his jacket to keep you warm and where he kisses you whenever you ask. As you fade into darkness it becomes so real. A soft smile on your face as the pain floats away.

BANG

Your sweet daydreams are interrupted by a terribly annoying sound.

"Open this damn door now!" His voice is warbled as you aren't completely conscious anymore but you think it's Joel. Maybe you're hallucinating more than you thought.

"Fuck!" You hear him shout and suddenly the door swings open.

Joel is breathing raggedly as he breaks down the bathroom door. His eyes wide with panic as he takes in the horror scene in front of him. He drops to his knees and cups your face in his hands. Your eyes flutter closed and Joel panics more.

"Hey! Keep 'em open okay." He shakes your head until you open them. Letting out a groan of pain.

"You're fuckin' stupid you know that." He's angry, upset, terrified. How could you do this to him? To Ellie? How could you hide this from them? Your life on the fucking line and you refuse to tell him. He has to hear it from a rushed and apologetic confession from Maria.

"J..Joel?" You croak out. The pain gets worse as you try and sit up.

"Don't move." He commands as he scrambles for something, anything to help. He doesn't know what to do. What can he do? Blood drips from your mouth and he wipes it away.

"Tell me how to fix this." He tilts your head up and your eyes barely focus.

You frown as you see those brown eyes so distressed. There's nothing he can do. He knows that, he has to know that. You hate seeing him so upset. With all your strength you raise your hand and rest it on his. Shaking your head softly and trying your best to comfort him. Joel is completely and utterly helpless. It's a horrible feeling. Your eyes close and he starts to panic.

"Hey! Come on! There has to be somethin'" Joel lightly slaps your face but your eyes stay closed. He can feel your pulse slowing and he wants to puke.

"Don't leave me, please you can't do this to me!" He shouts. It's not fair. He's lost so much he can't lose you too. Not after everything you've been through together.

"Please..." Joel begs quietly as your hand starts to go limp.

You're still breathing but barely. He squeezes his eyes shut as rests his forehead against yours. Too fucking late. Too slow. If he had gotten here quicker, noticed something sooner, then maybe he could have done something. Rage builds inside of him as he silently begs for you to wake up.

"Please, I'm sorry baby. You can't leave me. I..." He thinks and thinks. Of what you mean to him, putting aside his fears, his doubt. You're his most trusted ally, a confidant, a partner, a friend. You're so much more.

"I love you." It's barely above a whisper as he admits it to himself for the first time and to you.

His rough hands tilt your head up as he kisses you. Every missed I love you, all the lost time, everything the two of you could have had, it's packed into his passionate kiss. He's sorry, he loves you. As he pulls back he waits, was he too late? Suddenly your eyes open and he tenses up. Slowly the pain fades and it feels like you can breathe again.

"Do that again, please." You ask.

Joel nearly cries as you smile at him. Without hesitation he smashes his lips onto yours. He's not gentle anymore as he mentally needs to know that you're truly okay. He feels your hands weave into his hair, pulling on him to be closer. He hears the small noises you make and your heart beating in your chest. You're alive.

"Took you long enough." He gently caresses your face and kisses your forehead. Too relieved that you're still here to care about anything else. He loves you.

He loves you.

And he won't ever let you forget it.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller angst

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