#i have been down and out and had to humiliate myself for the sake of e begging too
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common tongue of your loving me
A/N: so, I first just wanted to say that I am not responsible for the content that you choose to engage with. This is a very dark fic with triggering themes that may be disturbing for some readers. This is dead dove do not eat. Please heed the warnings with caution. I understand that this won’t be everyone’s cup of tea, but for my first truly dark fic, I feel pretty good about it. It’s taken months of personal healing for me to become comfortable with writing/engaging with these kinds of fics. That being said, it is important to remember that SA survivors often use dark fic to cope from their own traumatic experiences, but also, dark fics can be enjoyed by anyone and no explanation for enjoying them is needed! Reading and writing dark fic does not mean that you condone this type of behavior. Please be kind.
~word count: 9.1k~
Summary: Joel finds you wandering through his territory and decides that he’ll take you in to be his little lamb. You don’t go with him so willingly.
pairing | raider!Joel x f!reader
Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!!!
Dubcon/noncon, the lines are blurred regarding to what the reader consents too, Joel is sick in the head, coercion, manipulation from both Joel and the reader, Stockholm syndrome vibes, he can kill easily you if he wanted to but he won’t, dom/sub, dark! Joel, feral! Joel, raider! Joel, rough unprotected sex, possession, degradation, age gap: Joel is 40 the reader is early 30’s, power imbalance, fear tactics, mind games, praise kink, pet names: little lamb and sir, rough unprotected piv, choking/breath play, knife kink, blood kink, voyeurism, hand job, mutual masturbation, cock warming, oral (male and female receiving) cum play, mutilation of a body part (not done to the reader) misogyny from Joel’s men, implied rape as threat/coercion, Joel is not a morally good person, touch deprivation, humiliation, graphic depictions of violence, submission on the means of survival, foul language, +18 minors dni!
main masterlist masterlist
The Cordyceps Outbreak changed you in a plethora of ways. Survivor turned cold-blooded murderer; not of your own doing. Desperate times call for desperate measures after all. Your saving grace happened to be a man. Brooding in strength, a quick tongue, and an even quicker aim. Calculated movements built up over years of tireless days and nights enduring whatever hell-scape the world had to offer. Grit, stubbornness, chapped lips, aliquine nose, paired with a wicked grin.
“Y’lost?” Gruff, gravelly, never ending pit of deepness. Joel Miller was crouched down between what you believed was an inconspicuous hiding space. You caught wind days out that a group of raiders had been silently stalking you. You were alone, with a limited supply of weapons in your reach.
“No.” Your voice trembled as you clutched your precious pocket knife to your chest.
“That so? What’re you doin’ hidin’ back there?” His head cocked curiously as his boot scraped along the tattered floor of the long since abandoned gas station.
“None of your goddamn business.” You hissed, teeth gritted as your eyes squeezed shut.
“Cute.” He mused. “Take it that you’re alone then? Y’got anythin’ on ya?”
“Are you going to kill me, or not? Cause if so, just get on with us for both our sakes.” You nearly pleaded.
He tsked, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “Ain’t gonna do that. Woulda dragged you outta there myself if that was the case. Besides, I enjoy it more when they run.” He spoke so casually you could feel your blood quickly turn to ice from his tone alone.
“What the hell do you want then? I have nothing to offer. Just some measly scraps, and a dull pocket knife.”
I’m gonna die. That’s it. It’s all over. All that fighting for fucking nothing.
“Ain’t that a shame.” You could feel the smirk rise on his face as bile tried to force its way up your throat. “You’re in luck, my dear. Feelin’ a bit generous. Been lookin’ for a pet. Someone to keep my bed warm at night. Clean my gun. Be at my side. The offer stands, but expires in approximately..” He looked around as if there was a working clock in sight, “one minute.”
“Wait, wait! Are you saying you want me to be your slave?! Fuck no! I’d–”
“Temper, I see. My slave? Not at all, darlin.’ You’ve got it all wrong. Ain’t gonna force ya, although, you were the one to stupidly go waltzing into raider territory. More specifically, my territory. So, you either swallow that fuckin’ tongue of yours and accept your fate, or i’ll let my men have their way with ya. N’trust me, doll. They’ll tear you apart the second they get their hands on you.”
“You sick fuck! I’m not going anywhere with you!” You pushed your body further between the two aisle shelves that had collapsed over.
“Ten.”
“You’re insane!”
“Nine.”
“Eight.” He droned with mock enthusiasm.
“C’mon, you ain’t got anywhere else to go. I won’t touch you unless you want me to. Don’t make this fuckin’ harder for yourself than it needs to be. My patience is runnin’ thin, and the clock is tickin’ away, little lamb.”
“I am not your little lamb, you fuckin’ monster!”
His eyes rolled in pure annoyance as you listened intently to the unmistakable clicking sound of his gun cocking.
“Seven.”
“Six.”
What other choice did you really have? Allow yourself to be violated, and god knows what else by this man’s men, or accept your fate and become his ‘pet.’ Just the thought alone sent a wave of nausea knocking through your system.
“Wait, wait! Please!” You nearly begged as you pulled yourself free from your hiding spot. You dropped your pocket knife to the floor with a clink as you held your hands above your head.
His smirk was nothing short of menacing as he took immediate notice to the terrified glassy look in your eyes.
“Don’t be frightened, little lamb.” He crooned
“You’re safe, and no harm will be done to you. However, my men will be deeply disappointed to hear that I have decided to take you as my own.”
God, this man was sick, but there was no turning back now. No escape route. No plan. No hope. Maybe he was just bluffing. Maybe his plan was to kill you when you’d least expect it. Maybe this was all just a game of cat and mouse for him; you being the helpless little mouse.
“You swear that you’re not going to touch me?” You eyed his outstretched hand warily.
“My darlin’ little lamb, you have my word. Although, I will have to pat you down. Y’know, to make sure you ain’t have anythin’ on ya. Oh, and don’t think I'm playin’ stupid either. Cus’ if you try’n kill me? I’ll make you wish that you had never been born. You have no idea what I am capable of, and my token of kindness only can stretch so far. Jus’ be good, and I won’t have to send a pretty thing like you six feet under. Got it?” His tone was sharp and straight to the point as his brow raised in your direction. You couldn’t even begin to fathom what this man was capable of.
You reluctantly took his hand as he hoisted you up from the grime infested floor. Not a second later did he have your back pinned securely against his broad chest as he held the sharp tip of your knife expertly against your jugular. All he would have to do was apply a tad bit of pressure in order to make a fatal incision. You could feel his lips ghosting against the shell of your ear. His voice dropped an octave as he whispered, “Oh, and if you even think about tryn’ to run from me? I will hunt you down. Do I make myself crystal fuckin’ clear, little lamb?”
You struggled considerably in his constricting grip. A hiss slipped past your lips when the tip of the blade pricked your skin, blood beaded along the surface before slowly trickling down the column of your throat. “Fuck you, asshole.” You nearly whimpered when the blunt ends of his fingernails dug fiercely into your hips. He was unmoving like a mountain, or a slab of concrete. (whichever you prefer)
“That ain’t my name, little lamb.” He tuts before dipping his head down along the clavicle of your neck. His curls gently tickle your chin before you feel his hot tongue poke out and lick up the droplets of blood from your skin. You involuntarily inhaled a harsh breath as his lips harshly sucked on the entry wound. You heard a tiny grunt rumble up his chest before he uttered, tone thick and raspy, “It’s Joel.”
Joel fucking Miller.
His teeth nipped and scraped at your torn skin as his grip around you tightened. “Silly, silly, little lamb. You’ve gone and nicked yourself. Be good, and I’ll let you breathe.”
“Please, please let go of me, Joel. Please. You’re hurting me.” Your voice came out strained as you ultimately gave up on struggling in his steel-like grasp.
“There ya go. That’s a good little lamb.” He cooed as he loosened his grip around you. He had forgotten all about needing to pat you down as he slowly lowered your knife from its present position on your neck. He tucked it away in his own backpack for safe keeping. You were dumb to think that he’d let you have it back.
“Now that we’ve gotten the painfully hard stuff outta the way, y’can relax. So stiff.” He tsked as he nudged you forward. “You’ll be pleased to hear that I’m not a complete barbarian. Got a cabin with workin’ plumbing! Imagine that.” He chuckled amusedly.
You were far from amused as you crossed your arms over your chest protectively as he nudged you forward. Your feet worked on autopilot as his domineering presence was close behind you. “That’s nice, Joel. I could frankly fucking care less where you live.” You snapped in a sharp quick tone.
“Oh? Well, perhaps you’d rather fuckin’ sleep outside, chained to a tree like a goddamn dog.” he snapped back, quicker than you had expected.
“Yeah?” You scoffed. “Well, maybe I would much rather be chained to a fucking tree than breathe the same disgusting air as you.” So much for not pushing this man's buttons.
He laughed, and you could feel his hot breath tickling the hair along the back of your neck.
“As tempting as that sounds, how am I supposed to protect you if you’re chained to a tree?” He was smirking rather sadistically. You couldn’t see his face, but you just knew he was grinning through his teeth. “Besides, wouldn’t you much rather sleep in a warm, cozy bed, little lamb? I bet it’s been awhile since you’ve experienced that kinda comfort, hmm?” He knew he was toying with you and it was becoming increasingly difficult to not stand your ground.
“I don’t need your protection. I don’t want anything to do with it, and for the love of God, would you stop fucking calling me little lamb?”
“Y’know, the more you fight this, the worse it’s going to be. You oughta be thankin’ me. Y’know why? I could fuckin’ take you right here, right now. I can shove you to the ground and have my way with you, little lamb. You can scream and cry all you want, but there’s not a goddamn thing you could do to stop me. You’re defenseless, and apparently missing quite a few marbles in that brain of yours. I suggest you shut the fuck up, and keep movin.’” In the midst of your quarrel, he had silently removed his gun from the holster around his hips, and you could feel the cool metal of the barrel pressing into the back of your neck.
You froze purely out of fear as your mouth went dry. No words fell from your once confident tongue as he nudged you forward once more.
“Yeah, that’s what I fuckin’ thought.” He hissed.
You were in fact shocked to see that Joel and his men didn’t live in filth and grime like you expected. Even moreso, it didn’t appear that they had stowed away any prisoners in their camp. This newfound knowledge was both comforting, and unsettling. Joel’s cabin was the furthest from the rest of the group. Tucked away in a grouping of evergreens. If you hadn’t known any better, you’d think he was just some lone survivor too. You surveyed the surrounding area silently as he unlocked the front door. You could run..but how far would you manage to get? He’d hunt you down no doubt. Your body was already running off pure adrenaline. It had been weeks since you had a proper meal.
“Home sweet home.” He chimed as he gave you a rough jolt forward. Your legs nearly buckled from the surprised movement as you stumbled inside. The heavy wooden door swung shut as he locked it behind him.
“I imagine you must be starvin’ huh?”
“Nope.”
He rolled his eyes as he slung his backpack along one of the hooks on the wall. “Uh-huh. You ain’t all that of a liar, little lamb. Look, if I were in your situation, i’d suck it the fuck up and be grateful for my generous hospitality. Y’wanna starve? Be my fuckin’ guest, but don’t say I didn’t try to feed ya.” He huffed as he strode past you, shoulder brushing yours roughly as he disappeared into the kitchen.
You stood there dumbly in the middle of the entryway as you subconsciously scratched at your arm. “Hey..uh, Joel?” You sounded timid and unsure of yourself but given the present circumstances, that was to be expected.
His head peeked around the corner as he made eye contact with you. “Yes, little lamb?”
Can he fucking quit it with that nickname already?
“So, I was wondering if it was possible for me to uh–shower? I’ve been traveling for weeks and I just figured you probably wouldn’t want me stinking up your bed? Just want to make sure I'm being a good pet for you.” You nearly gagged from your compliant words, but if you played your cards right, maybe you’d make it out of this alive.
His slow growing smirk was a tell-tale sign that he was buying your faux submission. Ruthless or not, he was still a man at the end of the day.
“Sure. S’not a problem at all. Y’need help findin’ your way? Jus’ down the hall n’to the left. I’ll leave some clothes out for ya as well. Think you’ve worn those things to ruin.” He casually gestured to your tattered clothing.
“Yeah, well..beggars can’t be choosers now can they?”
“No, they can’t.” He agreed.
You stared at one another a moment longer before you padded off down the hall. You could feel his eyes burning into the back of your head until you turned the corner. You paused momentarily to listen for his footsteps. Only when you were convinced he didn’t follow you, did you finally release a shaky breath. Just be good, and you’ll get out of this one way or another.
Joel’s bathroom was insipid in decor, but that came as to no surprise. It’s not like he had any reason to embellish the space with flowers or any other domestic shit. At least the towels looked fairly clean, and the shower head looked durable. You could have shed tears of joy when you turned the faucet handle and a steady stream flowed through the shower head. The water had a slightly oxidized odor from the well, but it wasn’t ice cold; more like room temperature. You wasted no time to shred your thin layers of clothing and discard them to the cool tile beneath your feet. Your nipples pebbled and grew taught under the cooling stream of water along your skin. You feel the filth and grime slowly wash away and stain the water a murky brown color from the debris. You were pleasantly surprised to find a bar of soap and a bottle of shampoo that was undoubtedly expired, but it would suffice.
The towel you wrapped around your body was a bit coarse and itchy from being utilized so many times. You kept your hand firmly wrapped around the front of the towel to prevent it from slipping down your still damp body. As you reached for the door handle you found shortly after that there was something blocking your ability to open it all the way. You took a deep breath as you prepared yourself for the inevitable..clothes? There just outside of the door, folded nicely in a pile, was a shirt and pants waiting for you.
Joel was busy putzing around the kitchen as he prepared a well-deserved meal for the two of you. He was already convinced that you were warming up to him (finally). Or, perhaps you were just too exhausted to put up a solid fight. Either way, he was going to continue to use his generous hospitality to his advantage. Match point.
“Well, don’t you clean up nice.” He mused from where he was standing as you appeared from down the hall.
“Shower was pretty decent.” You mumbled in response.
“Go on and make yourself at home.” He gestured to the small kitchen table with two handcrafted wooden chairs. “Dinner will be ready in just a few minutes.”
“I already told you, I'm not hungry.”
“Still playin’ the stubborn game, are we? What happened to the whole ‘I want to be a good pet for you, Joel?’” he dropped the kitchen knife he was presently holding onto the countertop as he made air quotes with his fingers.
“Why the hell would you think for a second that I'm going to trust you all of a sudden? I don’t want shit to do with your food.”
“Mmm. I see. S’you jus’ thought oh, i’ll just use his shower and shit will be all peachy keen? Sit your fuckin’ ass down at that table right now.” He wasn’t asking, he was demanding.
“Oh, gee. You’re too kind! Giving me somewhere to finally rest my fucking feet.” You muttered sarcastically under your breath as you plopped down onto the chair finally.
Seconds later a plate was placed down in front of you. The smell was absolutely mouthwatering. Seared venison, potatoes, gravy and bread. This was a real hearty meal that you could only dream of having. It reminded you of Sunday dinner’s back at your parents when you were struggling to pay your rent off every month. You’d have leftovers for days thanks to them.
You suspiciously eyed your captor as he took the seat across from you and began to indulge in the meal he had prepared. You remained skeptical as your arms crossed over your chest defiantly.
“It ain’t poisoned if that’s what you’re thinkin.’ Why the hell would I be eating poisoned food? Besides, how are you supposed to keep my bed warm if you’re fuckin’ dead, little lamb?” He grumbled as he pointed his fork in your direction.
“I don’t know. Maybe a sick fuck like you is into that sorta thing. You don’t actually expect me to believe that you have a moral compass, do you?”
“Oh, you’re right on the head with that one. Just below your feet I have bodies stashed for safekeeping. Oh, and some are buried out back in the woods. You’ll find bones scattered about the property.” he stated nonchalantly as he leaned over the table with his eyes locked on yours. “Y’know what I love most? I love it when they scream and beg for their pathetic little lives to be spared. They all try to escape, but they never get very far. I give them all a fair head start jus’ to give them that false hope that they’re going to make it out of this alive.” He stabbed a piece of venison with his fork before popping it into his mouth.
Your blood curdled like rotten milk as you went to push your chair back. You were startled from the sound of his knife being embedded into the wood with a harsh thud. “Don’t you even fuckin’ think about it.” He hissed.
“Are you fucking serious?! You have dead bodies under the fucking floorboards?! So, this was your plan all along?! Make me play house with you till you get bored and decide to butcher me?!”
“No.” he deadpanned. “I was not bein’ serious. But, since you think i’m some sick fuckin’ monster that stashes women away to murder them, I decided to play into your little scenario. Now, fuckin’ eat your goddamn food. Or by God I will fucking pin you down and shove it down your throat.”
You truly could not tell if he was bluffing or not, but by the darkened appearance of his pupils, your brain was literally screaming at you to just pick the fucking fork up and eat. So, that’s exactly what you did. Fuck, this was the best thing you tasted in a long time.
When the sun began to set and cast a soft orange glow through the cabin windows, your nerves were on high alert when you faced the realization that you’d have to sleep in the same bed as this man. Your plate was nearly licked clean as he removed it from in front of you. He could sense your unease from a mile away. It was as if he could smell the fear leaking from your pores.
“Go on and get some rest, little lamb. I’ll be there in a few. Oh, and by the way, I prefer to sleep naked. I hope that doesn’t pose a problem for you.” He shot a flirty wink in your direction before you were immediately pushing your chair back.
Fucking peachy.
It wasn’t difficult to find his bedroom as it was the only other room in the mid size cabin. You would have much rather have slept on the uncomfortable hardwood floor than to share a bed with him. However, based on how he acted at the dinner table..you really didn’t want to stretch your luck, if you’d even call it that, any further.
The semi-comfortable mattress brought instant relief to your aching back and shoulders. A comfort short lived as you listened attentively to the faint footsteps approaching the door. Joel was surprisingly quiet as he slipped into the room like a shadow in the night. He barely acknowledged your presence as he shuffled to the unoccupied side of the bed. The mattress creaked beneath his weight as he sank down along it.
You laid there unmoving, quiet like a mouse as your eyes squeezed shut from the familiar shrill sound of the metal clasp of his belt clinking. His jeans hit the floor with a soft thud as a silent tear slowly rolled down your cheek. He yanked his shirt over his head in one swift movement before he kicked his boxers down his ankles. You heard him let out a faint sigh as he scrubbed his hand down his patchy beard. You waited for the moment that he would pounce..but it never came as he slowly swung his legs onto the mattress with a soft grunt as he settled back into the pillows. His cock hung heavy between his thighs as he shifted positions ever so slightly. “G’night, little lamb. Sleep tight.” He crooned softly.
Wait..that’s it? No no. What the hell was going on? Didn’t he say he would–
“Goodnight, Joel.” You whispered as you rolled over so your back was facing him. You were on the very edge of the mattress, as far away as you possibly could be from him.
Joel was more than willing to play the long game with you. He was in no rush, and toying with your already fragile mind was part of the fun. He did swear that he wouldn’t touch you without your consent, but he never said anything about not touching himself. He was, after all, a lonely man in some capacity. Perhaps that’s why he had no shame to slowly wrap his fist around the base of his cock while you were laying just a few feet away. He trapped his lower lip between his teeth as he dragged his thumb across the ruddy head, collecting a bead of precum that had weeped from the narrow slit. He twisted his hand slowly as a grunt bubbled up his throat. He pulled his hand back only to filthily spit on it in order to create some lubrication. His head tilted back against the pillows as his mind ran rampant through his filthy desires. “Fuck, that’s it little, lamb.” He hissed between his teeth, digging his heels into the mattress as his cock grew hard and swollen in his grasp.
You could vaguely hear the rustling of the sheets through your light slumber. You thought maybe you were experiencing some vivid dream when you detected Joel’s soft grunt and the unmistakable sound of him spitting into his hand. It felt like your body was betraying you and riding off into the deep end as your thighs subconsciously clenched together. His sounds of gratification only seemed to spur your now awake body to relieve itself in some capacity as your hand slowly snaked down between your thighs. It had been longer than you could remember since you last shared a bed with someone. Perhaps this was all based purely on animalistic instincts as your fingers dipped beneath your panties. Your clit was throbbing for attention as your fingertips skated across it. You bit down on the inside of your cheek hard to suppress a whimper from slipping out, but it was audible enough for Joel to hear it. Once you started, there was no going back as your fingers worked your clit in slow circular motions.
Joel was shocked to say the least. So much so, that his hand had stilled around his cock as he listened to your pathetic little whimpers that you were desperately trying to suppress. You being so unpredictable to him was an absolute turn on. He couldn’t believe that his dirty little lamb was shamelessly playing with herself. Maybe you and him weren’t so different after all. His cock twitched against his stomach as he imagined just how tight your little pussy would hug him, and that’s all it took for him to shred his remaining morale. “What’re you doin’ over there, little lamb?” He whispered through the pale moonlight that casted shadows across the bed frame.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
You scrambled to remove your hand from between your thighs as a sense of embarrassment and dread washed over you. You could feel the heat rise to your cheeks from the excitement and adrenaline rush of being caught.
“Don’t stop on my account, dirty little lamb. You sounded so desperate to come. Why deprive yourself of that pleasure?” He hummed through his teeth as he gave the base of his cock a firm relieving squeeze. “Or are you seekin’ some assistance? I’d be happy to help..can’t leave your pussy hanging on the edge for that long, little lamb. She deserves better treatment than that.” He tsked disapprovingly.
it was as if a lightbulb had suddenly flashed in your brain. Yes, use this to your advantage. This is what he wants, right? Give it to him. Make him think that you’re submissive. Fuck him stupid and leave when he’s sleeping. Play his game better than he is.
“It hurts.” You pouted as tears of frustration began to slowly drip down the corners of your eyes. You did have to sell the part after all.
“Oh, baby. Don’t cry. I know it hurts..bet it’s been so long since your cunt has been properly taken care of, hmm? When’s the last time she’s been stretched out by a cock?” He asked softly as you felt the mattress dip down from him slowly roll over onto his elbow so he was facing you.
“It’s been too long, sir. I can’t even remember the last time I was properly filled up by a cock. I miss that feeling so much. Will you help me, please? I want you to take care of me, Joel.” You nearly moaned out a plea as your thighs rubbed together beneath the sheets.
Joel’s rough exterior had seemingly melted into a puddle of liquid as you nearly begged him. Who was he to say no to a person in need? Here you were, so willing, so compliant, so submissive, and right where he wanted you to be. “Oh, my poor little lamb. It’s been that long for you? Perhaps I’ll just have to remind your cunt just how good it feels to be properly filled up by a cock, hmm? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Please, Joel. Please remind me how good it feels to be filled up by a cock. I want you to stretch me out..I want to feel you everywhere..think you can handle that, sir?” You were already reaching for his hand as he scooted closer to where your body was laying. You guided his hand between your thighs so he could feel just how wet you were for him. “Please, can’t you feel how wet I am? Please make me feel good, sir.”
His eyes nearly rolled back into his skull from your desperation and neediness as his fingers lightly traced the seam of your panties where he could feel the wetness pooling through the fabric. “I’ll take real good care of you, little lamb. You’re in good hands. We’ll have to take these off so I can get a good look at ya. Bet she’s so fuckin’ pretty. Dyin’ to have a peek.”
He’s a goner.
She’s a goner.
“Take them off, please.” You whimpered as his hands grasped the hem of your panties and slowly pulled them down your thighs. His pupils dilated from the sight of the fabric sticking to your puffy wet pussy. His mouth watered from the sight alone as he discarded your ruined panties to the floor. You felt the warm embrace of his hand wrap around the inside of your thigh as he coaxed it across his lap so he could spread you nice and wide. “Oh, fuck. Look at how swollen she is. Must hurt so much.” He pouted with furrowed brows. “Such a pretty fuckin’ pussy. I cannot wait to ruin her, my little lamb.” At this angle you were entirely exposed to his greedy eyes as you watched his hand travel southward once more. He used his middle and forefinger to spread your folds open so he could get a better view of your swollen little clit. He appeared to be mesmerized as your tight wet little hole involuntary clenched inwards.
Your moans were anything but fake as his thumb slowly worked your clit into tight circles. He wasn’t lying about the fact that you certainly were in good hands. You were wet enough as it is, but he felt that extra lubrication couldn’t hurt as he spat a glob of saliva between his fingers and rubbed it in. He soon had two fingers knuckle deep inside of you as he slowly curled them inwards. “Gotta get you nice and relaxed for me, baby. I don’t wanna hurt ya, and you’re being such a good little lamb for me. I think I’ll just have to reward you for that. How does that sound?” His eyes drifted upwards so he could see your face twist with pleasure as your toes curled inwards.
“Oh, sir.” You moaned wantonly. “That feels so fucking good. Please don’t stop. I promise I’ll keep being your good little lamb. Can you show me your cock, Joel? I want to see it. I bet it’s so big..what if it doesn’t fit?”
He shifted his hips upwards so you could get a good look at his dick. He watched your eyes widen the slightest at the sight of him. Heavy set balls, dark coarse hair, and by far the thickest cock you had ever feasted your eyes upon. “Shh, we’ll make it fit. It’ll feel so fuckin’ good once I’m stretching you out, little lamb. You just gotta trust me. Can you do that for me, baby? Can you trust me?”
“Mhmm. I can trust you, sir. I know you’ll take extra good care of me. Please don’t make me wait much longer..please be good to me.”
He pressed a reassuring kiss to your temple as he felt the walls of your pussy clench down around his thick digits. The squelching sound sent blood quickly flowing southwards as his cock twitched against his thigh. As soon as he slipped his fingers out of you, he knelt between your thighs with one hand wrapped firmly around the base of his cock as he twisted his wrist a couple times. His freehand was wrapped around the underside of your thigh as he brought it around his shoulder with your heel resting along his firm shoulder blade. “Good little lamb. I’m goin’ fill this pretty little pussy up just the way that she deserves, okay? See, I told you that bein’ my pet wasn’t gonna be so bad. I knew you’d warm up to me eventually.” He mumbled under his breath as he slowly dragged his tip between your folds, rutting his hips forward slowly. The tip of his cock bumped against your already sensitive clit with each gentle thrust.
Your brain felt like a scrambled egg that was being mentally toyed and fucked with. This sick man could have easily fucked you like a rag doll into his mattress, and instead he was choosing to take things slow. Why? You couldn’t wrap your head around his reasoning, or if this was truly just another piece to his game, but Jesus fuck, there was no denying that it felt fucking incredible.
Your words came out like slurred jarble as your mouth slowly felt open when you felt him slowly start to sink inside of you, stretching you open, filling you up just like his promise. It felt like his cock was splitting you in two the further he pressed into you. He coaxed you gently when you clawed at his forearms. Shushing you with featherlight kisses to your cheekbones when he had bottomed out. Your leg fell limp around his shoulder when he had slowly pulled his hips back before jutting them forward.
He was fucking you deliciously deep as the matress squeaked from the movement. He was watching your face for any signs of discomfort as you struggled to figure out where he started, and where he ended. Your pussy hugged him tight as it drew him in deeper with each thrust. His hand nearly engulfed your hip as his thumb lightly pressed down along your lower abdomen where he could feel the tip of his cock just barely kissing your cervix. “Can you feel me right there, little lamb? You’re doing so good for me. So fuckin’ good. Tightest little pussy I’ve ever had. She’s huggin’ me so good.” His grunts mixed with your sharp moans as you struggled to not completely throw your plan out the window. In this position it was hard to gain any sense of control; it was time to switch things up.
“Joel, baby.” You mewled softly as your hips rolled forward to meet his thrusts. “I wanna try something that I think you’ll really like..I wanna be on top. You must be so exhausted from dealing with me all day..why don’t you lay back and I’ll do all the work?” You suggested with a harsh breath as he leaned down over you. You could feel the broad weight of his chest pressing down against you as his lips brushed across the shell of your ear, “that’s the best idea you’ve had all goddamn day, little lamb.”
Even after your handsome offering, he wasn’t quite ready to slip out of your warmth just yet. Now that he had a taste, there was no way in hell that he was about to let you go from his grasp. He had consumed you completely to the point where it felt like you were being suffocated by his sheer mass and the way he managed to hit that spongy spot inside of you with every profound intense induced thrust. His wiry patchy beard scraped at the soft skin of your cheek as he drove himself further. “Jus’ gimme a little more time with ya like this. You feel so fuckin’ good around me. Jus’ a little longer.” He stuttered between harsh jagged breaths that fluttered across the shell of your ear. His teeth nipped, scraped at the skin as the musty scent of his sweat melded into yours. Skin on skin: with no point of relief.
When he finally began to slowly slip out of your tight wet walls, it appeared that your body was reluctant to let go of him based on the way your pussy clenched around him tightly like a fist. He chuckled low and deep as he watched a mixture of your release and his own leak out of your tight fucked out hole. It glistened along the apex of your thighs, trailing down your skin, dripping along the once unsoiled comforter.
“My my, little lamb. You’ve gone and made quite the mess of yourself hmm?” He teased as he slowly dragged his pointer finger through the mixture of fluids as if he was creating an erotic painting, and his finger was the steady brush.
Focus. Focus. Focus. Your brain chanted at you relentlessly.
“Hnngh..mhm..i’ve made such a mess of myself, sir. Will you please clean me up?”
He smirked cruelly through the pale moonlight that danced across your skin as he scooted himself back on his knees, his cock brushing against the comforter and creating just enough stimulation for him to be satisfied for the time being. “Well, since you asked so nicely, I suppose I can give you an itty-bitty reward.” He mused as his eyes locked in on your glistening pussy just begging to be kissed. Your lashes fluttered when you felt his hot breath fan your core. Might as well get all the use out of him that you could get.
He pressed open mouth kisses to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. Sucking, licking, kissing around where you craved him most. The second those sinful lips latched onto your swollen clit, a carnal need washed over both of you as he devoured you whole. His tongue worked you in languid strokes as he made sure to lick up every last drop. Your orgasm was steadfast approaching as the coil in your stomach tightened. Your thighs clamped firmly around his head like a stubborn shell. If it were any other situation, you’d let him eat you for hours, days even, but you had to stick to your plan.
He wasn’t letting up easily as you used all your strength to push his head from between your thighs. His beard and lips were coated in your slick as he finally released you from his death grip. There was no time to catch your breath as his strong arms were already hosting you into his lap as he lazily rolled over onto his back with a soft grunt.
“Keep bein’ my good little lamb, and you’ll wake up every mornin’ with my head between your thighs.” He nearly purred as his hands anchored themselves around your hips. You could feel the head of his cock notching at your entrance as you slowly sank down against his bulky strong thighs. It took a mere moment for you to snap back into character and keep up with your charades as you wrapped your hand firmly around the base of his cock. “I’m going to take care of you now okay, Joel? You’ve been so good to me. I’m so grateful for your generous hospitality and your cock. I just want you to sit back and relax..can you do that for me, baby?” You held all the control in the palm of your hand as you slowly slid his tip between your slit. Your little noises of appreciation had his head spinning in circles as he squeezed your hips firmly.
“M’gonna keep you forever, just like this. Stuffed full of my cock. Filled to the fuckin’ brim.” He hissed between his teeth as you slowly inched yourself around him till he had filled you to the hilt. “M’so lucky to have a good little lamb like you, baby. My good little cockslut. It ain’t so bad, is it? Mmm..maybe you and I are more alike than you think.” He murmured with a lazy grin etched on his face as he gazed up at you through thick lashes.
“Of course i’ll be your good little lamb forever and ever, sir.” You played along as you slowly rolled your hips forward. “I’ll be so good to you just like you have been to me.” Now you had him right where you wanted him and it was only a matter of time. You affectionately played with his sweat stained curls, licked the musk from his neck as you inhaled his masculine aroma that seeped from his pores. You nipped at his flesh and left little love bites speckled across his skin. You fucked him the best way that you could, spending what was left of your dwindling energy to convince this man that you were submitting to him entirely. Each roll of your hips, and smack of your skin transported him to a new state of pure ecstasy. He didn’t last very long considering he was fairly spent himself. He let out a deep guttural animalistic grunt that ruptured from deep within his chest as he spilled his seed into you. He could feel both yours and his release drip down between where your bodies were connected. He praised in a soft tone, mumbling about how he was going to fall asleep just like this. “Y’stay right there, little lamb. Gonna keep you stuffed full of my cock all night.” He rasped as his lashes fluttered shut.
By all means, sir. Keep me stuffed full of your cock, because come morning, you’ll be waking up to an empty, cold, miserable bed. You fucking idiot.
He dozed off, still buried deep inside of your cunt as you sat there obediently. You listened to the sound of his breathing return to a normal rate as soft snores slipped past his parted lips. Only when you were certain that he wouldn’t awake from his sex induced slumber, did you finally slip off of his lap. You could feel the sticky residue of his come latching onto your thighs as his cock went soft. You gathered up the clothes he had given you as you rushed to dress and get the hell out of there. You were as quiet as a mouse as you crept out of his room. Your eyes zoned in on the rifle hanging along the hook next to the door.
You were so close to freedom you could almost taste it as you unlatched the door and began to slowly push the handle down–
“Where are you runnin’ off to, little lamb?” His tone was low and menacing as you felt the hardness of his chest press against your back. In one swift movement he had pulled the door shut with a heavy slam that rattled your bones to the core. You went to reach for his rifle but he was on you in a flash as he twisted your arms painfully behind your back. He knocked you forward against the wooden door with your cheek pressed firmly into the rough texture of the wood. When you didn’t respond to his original question, he asked again, but a lot less nicer.
“I said, where the fuck do you think you’re runnin’ off to, little lamb? Y’think you can play me for a goddamn fool?!” He bellowed. His harsh words bounced off the walls of the cabin as you struggled in his painful grip. “After I fed you, put clothes on your back and fucked you dumb, you think you can jus’ fuckin’ leave?!”
“Sir, I'm so sorry! You have it all wrong! I—just wanted to get some fresh air! I was going to come right back, I swear!” You took the pleading route in hopes that maybe he’d show you just a smidge of mercy. “I’d never leave you!”
He laughed darkly as he shoved you further into the door, creating little to no space for you to breathe. “Fuckin’ save it. You’re a goddamn filthy liar, little lamb! You were leavin’ me! What a fuckin’ shame too because you were being so so good. Pity, because I was actually thinking of letting you go myself.” He lied straight through his teeth as he forced his knee between your thighs and spread them apart. His hand that wasn’t holding your wrists painfully together wrapped around your middle as he yanked you roughly against his chest. His lips were right at your ear now. “You were being such a good little lamb for me, that I was beginning to feel sorry for taking you away..I was going to let you go first thing in the morning, but you just had to go and fuckin’ ruin it for yourself, huh?” He tsked
Fresh tears began to cascade down your face as you continued to try and break free. Your hope was quickly diminishing like a candle being blown out as he twisted your wrists at an unnatural angle. “PLEASE!” You begged, “I’m so sorry, sir! Please don’t kill me! I–I–can make it up to you, I swear!”
“Kill you? Oh, my dear sweet little lamb, you really haven’t been payin’ attention, have you? I’m not going to kill you. You’re far too pretty to be feasted on by some critters. That simply won’t do.” His hand that was securely wrapped around your middle snaked upwards as he roughly groped your breast through the fabric of your shirt. “Quit your fuckin’ squirming. You ain’t gettin’ yourself outta this one, little lamb.”
“Please, please let me go! I’m–I'm sorry for not being a good pet! I can do better! Please, Joel! You’re hurting me!” You cried out for mercy.
“Now, you’re gonna sit still and be a good little lamb, or I'll feed you to the wolves just outside my door.” He whispered harshly as he dropped his hand from around your breast only to then find the button on your pants before he yanked them down your thighs. Your pussy was sore and overstimulated when he pressed the ruddy head of his cock between your thighs. “Can’t you hear ‘em howlin?’ Bet they’re fistin’ their cocks right now thinkin’ about how your pretty little cunt would hug them so tight. S’only for me, right? This cunt belongs to me. Don’t fuckn’ gimme a reason to share.” He hissed as he harshly thrusted up into you, knocking the air from your lungs as his hand wrapped around your throat.
Your words came out as strangled cries as he continued to ram into you. “Can’tcha hear ‘em now? Beggin’ for this cunt. C’mon, little lamb. Scream for me. Let them know just how good daddy is treatin’ ya. Don’t you fuckin’ hold back.” His thumb and forefinger pressed firmly against your trachea making it harder for oxygen to reach your brain as your body went into distress mode. The more you fought, the tighter he held you. When you could begin to see stars dancing behind your eyelids, and your breath came out in a weak wheezing sound, he finally released you from his death grip.
You buckled over, gasping for air as your knees hit the floor with a sickening thud.
“Don’t you ever try to outsmart me again, little lamb.” He was standing over you like an ominous shadow as choked sobs raked through your body.
“Now, get the fuck back to bed, or i’ll drag you there myself.”
You took his threat seriously as you scrambled to your feet and scurried back to his room.
You never crossed him again, and for good reason. He apologized for his actions the next morning over breakfast. You weren’t very hungry, but forced yourself to eat for your own sake. Now you were his broken and submissive little lamb.
He did keep his promise of keeping you safe from all harm. Once enough trust was instilled, he allowed you to accompany him outside. He taught you all that he knew during those months. You found it hard to not begin to fall for him when he showed you his gentler side. It felt wrong, but right at the same time to love a man who was so cruel. He stripped you of your autonomy, and then stitched it right back together with his own needle and thread. You adapted to his lifestyle as if it was the back of your hand. Accompanying him on raids, torturing helpless individuals for the sheer thrill it felt to hold another person’s life in the palm of your hands.
Maybe you were sicker than he was.
This winter was proving to be unforgiving. Supplies and rations were low, and Joel’s men were growing antsy. Their leader was spending too much time tucked away in his cabin with you, and it was only a matter of time before someone would lash out. You were still fast asleep tucked away cozily in Joel’s warm bed while he called a meeting with the rest of the group.
“I say we head west. There ain’t nothin’ left here for us.” One of his men stated, and heads began to slowly nod in agreement.
“West? Why the hell would we go and do that? We got a decent territory here, and I'm this close to gettin’ us into the QZ. Jus’ have to twist a few more fingers to get us there. This ain’t the worst winter we’ve had. Don’t go and act like a bunch of fuckin’ pussies just because you’re afraid that your dicks are gonna freeze off.” He snapped.
“Easy enough for you to say, Miller. You’re the one who’s got a cockslut keepin’ you warm on the cold nights. What about the rest of us, huh? Can’t be bothered to share your prize?”
Joel could feel his blood begin to simmer as he slowly turned his head to the side. His eyes were narrowed into slits as his fists clenched tightly at his sides. “What the fuck did you jus’ call her?” His tone was eerily calm as he did his best to keep his temper at bay. You were off limits; end of story.
“You heard me. Bet that cockslut of yours was the one who suggested we stay here. That’s why it ain’t good to keep women around for long. They talk and talk and think that they have the answer for everything! Well, you know what I gotta say to that? Keep ‘em around to keep your cock warm and toss ‘em when they grow smart. That’s all they’re good for anyway. Jus’ a tight wet hole to fuck.”
The prominent veins in Joel’s neck bulged to the surface of his neck. His skin was so hot that the swirling flurries that landed on him immediately melted. His face grew red with rage. You were far more than just a hole to fuck. You were his little lamb, and god help any motherfuckers that dare disrespect his little lamb.
“I should fuckin’ carve your tongue out for that. She is not my cockslut.” If Joel’s men were smart, they’d back off while they still had the chance, but men will be men after all.
“Oh, please! Is her pussy really all that? Look at how soft you’ve gone, Miller! I say you dispose of her while you still have the chance. Oh, but before you do that, bring her out for a spin. We’ve been dyin’ to see what her cunt is all about.”
It was as if something inside of Joel had suddenly snapped and he found his hands constricted around the man’s neck. Joel had him pinned to the snow covered ground as the man thrashed around violently. No one dared to try and stop their leader until they heard the crunching of snow beneath boots as your voice drifted through the brewing blizzard like a rumbling echo
Joel’s head snapped in the direction of your voice as he loosened his grip around the man’s neck slightly. “Baby, what the fuck are you doin’ out here? It’s freezing! Get back inside–”
You were quick to cut him off as you approached the scene that was laid out in front of you. You ignored his present concern for your wellbeing as you crossed your arms over your chest. “What the fuck is going on here, Joel?”
“Seth said some shit that he really oughta have kept to himself. S’alright. I got this one handled. Why don’t you go on back home where it’s warm.”
“No. I want you to tell me what he said.” You stood firm
Joel eyed the rest of his men who were all looking much like sheep themselves. “He called you a cockslut, and that all a woman is good for is a tight wet hole to fuck.” He deadpanned.
You appeared unfazed sans the slight arch of your brow. “Really?” You scoffed. “How original. Don’t you think that strangling him is a bit too merciful?”
“Well, before you came out here, I threatened to carve his tongue out.”
“Oh?” You asked with a lopsided grin. “Now that is more your style, baby. Wanna use my knife? I just sharpened it the other day.”
Seth was nervously looking between yours and Joel’s sadistic grins as he struggled to escape. All Joel had to do was snap his fingers once for two of his men to then force Seth down by his shoulders, and physically pry his jaw open as he thrashed wildly on the ground.
“My little lamb, you’re so sick..y’know that?” He was already reaching for your outstretched knife before his hand encased around your wrist and gently tugged you down into the snow. “Front row seat jus’ for you, baby. Don’t worry, he’ll never say another word about you again.” he sealed his promise to you against your lips before he was pulling away to finish off the job.
“S’matter, Seth? Cat got your tongue?” Joel crooned as grabbed the back of his head and yanked it forward. “This oughta teach ya to respect women.”
“Joel–wait! Please don’t do this! I’m sorry! I’m–” Seth’s pleas were violently cut off when Joel sliced right through his tongue. Blood spattered and squirted from the gushing wound as his once attached muscle now laid limp in the snow.
“Oh, what was that? You’re sorry? It’s a bit too late for that, pal.” Joel spat before he picked up the chunk of Seth’s mutilated tongue and tossed it right into the nearby fire pit.
“Get him outta my sight before I decide to rip his throat out too. Tie him up to a tree a few miles from here. Leave him to the wolves. They’ll finish him off.” He demanded his men as he wiped the blood from your knife along Seth’s shirt.
His hand reached for yours to help you up from the ground. You held no shame to admit that watching Joel mutilate someone in front of you so willingly sent a wave of arousal gushing between your clenched thighs, and you probably would have fucked him right then and there and let his men watch because none of that really mattered anymore. You opted to pull him behind a cluster of trees instead as you dropped to your knees ceremoniously in the bitter cold snow that instantly bit at your exposed bare skin. Your hands clawed for his belt as you desperately unlatched it and shoved his jeans down his thighs swiftly. Your cheeks felt cold to the touch as Joel’s hand affectionately held your face in his warm palm as you pulled his stiff cock free. His heart swelled with pure pride for his good little lamb.
banners made by the lovely @saradika 🤍
#dead dove do not eat#dead dove fic#tw non con#tw noncon#tw dub con#tw dubcon#tw dubious consent#tw stockholm syndrome#tw dark content#tw coercion#tw manipulation#joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fanfic#joel miller smut#dark joel miller#dark!joel miller#dark!fic#raider!joel#joel miller the last of us#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller one shot#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#joel x you#joel x reader
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who loves you
summary: a four month long situationship with Ari goes south when you see a text you shouldn't have
pairing: college!hockey player!ari x situationship/fwb!reader
warnings: none?
-
Fuck. You felt refreshed and blissed out as you sat up and stretched. Watching Ari’s bare, fit body disappear into his bathroom.
It always surprised you how he showers without his phone because that meant he showered with no music. You couldn’t imagine taking a shower without music, how else would you fulfill your popstar dreams. But alas, Ari was different from a lot of the guys you’ve previously been with.
You drop back against his bed, smiling at the ache between your legs. Ari was a lot of things and a sex god was definitely one of them.
The incessant buzzing from a phone..his phone jerks you from your blissed out state.
Bzz-bzz
Ignore.
Bzz-bzz
Ignore.
Bzz-bzz
Okay, what the hell?
You grab his phone beside you, it comes to life when you lift it.
Joy ;)
—Meet you in the parking lot after? My place?
—I’ll wear the special panties with your number on them
You squint as more texts roll in. Special panties? Her place? The fucking winky emoji by her name?
What. The. Fuck.
You stare in disbelief for who knows how long, feeling a little hurt and naive.
“Why is my phone in your hand?”
Ari stands at the end of his bed. A towel wrapped around his hips as he runs another through his shoulder length hair. Your eyes can’t really help to worship the droplets over his chest.
“Who’s Joy?” You push out the question.
You can see something change in Ari as he walks over and takes his phone from your grasp. “None of your business, why are you snooping around”
You scoff, “I wasn’t snooping! It kept buzzing and I thought it was an emergency or something. Who’s Joy?” you question again, annoyed at the way he’s avoiding your question.
“I don’t appreciate you looking through my phone. And she’s none of your fucking buisness, so drop it”
You stare up at him, subconsciously lifting his sheet to cover your bare chest.
“You’re having sex with other people?” you accuse, and deep down you're confident you know the answer, but that naive part of you is hoping it’s all a misunderstanding.
“And if I am? We’re just fucking around too. Are we not?”
Your breath stutters at his admission. Although the two of you have never stated terms of this…relationship, his actions have always spoken louder than words. Everyone thought the two of you were together. Even though he’s never formally asked you to be his girlfriend, you always had an inkling that he would at some point.
Your stomach flips thinking of his protectiveness over you, the way he’d always pay if he was there, and the way he goes out of his way to check up on you after his practices. Or the way you’re always there for him at every game, his number and name on your back as you cheer him on.
Shit, even the sex was anything unlike a pair of friends. It always felt intimate between the two of you. Your toothbrush stood next to his in his bathroom, and yours, for Christ sakes.
“Are you being serious right now?”
Ari shrugs. Fucking shrugs at your question.
“Y/n, I don’t understand why you’re upset. In no way have I ever committed myself to you.”
That stings.
“You really don’t see it, do you?” You mutter, trying to blink away the tears forming in your eyes.
“I don’t.”
“Fuck you, Ari.” You seethe, dressing yourself with speed. “Have fun with Joy.” You tell him, buttoning your jeans, and gathering your shoes in your hand. Anything to get out of this humiliating scenario.
You shove your way past Ari’s confused figure. Which stops you as he grabs your elbow, “I’m not understanding what the big deal is? You’re telling me you haven’t been sleeping around.”
You remove your elbow from his grasp, “No. I haven’t. And if I did, I’d at least have the decency to let you know.” And with that, you’re out of the room.
Ari stands there for at least a minute, disgruntled and confused with what the fuck just happened. He shakes his head trying to figure out whatever the fuck he was missing.
-
“You’re a fucking idiot, a moron if you will. Maybe a dodo would fit better?—” Ransom laughs to himself as relaxes in his spot in the frats living room, snacking on his favorite biscuit cookies.
“Ran,” Steve interrupts the way Ransom isn’t helping. Softly shaking his head in reprimandment. “Now isn’t the time.”
Ransom only shrugs, and looks back to the television.
“I hate to say it, man. But Ransom is right, the only answer was in front of you the whole time.” Sam tosses in his opinion, clapping Ari on the back.
“Well what the fuck is it? Why is no one saying what I’m missing?”
“She likes you, Levinson.” Bucky answers, walking through the living room and out the door, his key to his motorcycle swirling around a finger. He didn’t need to know the full conversation to know what exactly was going on. He would’ve stayed to watch the aftermath, but he had a certain spicy redhead waiting for him at her apartment
Ari doesn’t mean to sound dramatic, but he quite literally feels the world tilt on its axis at the discovery. He’s admired you for a while, but never in his mind did he think he was the right guy for you. He’s seen the guys you’ve dated before and they were the complete opposite.
Intelligent, brainy, in tons of clubs, they wouldn’t do stupid shit like fighting on ice skates because it’s fun. They were guys who any mother would love.
Fuck. He can’t believe this, there’s no way.
“What—“
“Dude, you can’t be so blind, to not see how in love with you she basically is,” Ransom says around a mouth full of cookies. “The sex is probably great, but you think a chick like her is gonna wanna be around you without an ounce of admiration.”
“I think what Ransom is trying to say is: there’s a lot of telling that y/n has feelings for you, and I’m pretty sure her getting offended that you’re sleeping with other people is a big one.” Steve says.
“Fuck.” Ari groans, running his hand down his face and over his scruff.
“How would you feel if y/n told you she was screwing someone else?” Sam asks.
“Livid.”
Sam snaps his finger pointing at the dark look already on Ari’s face. “There you go.”
“Fuck. She’s not even answering my calls. What the hell am I supposed to do?”
“Give her time to cool. If anything, maybe she’ll be at the game?” Steve offers.
“Maybe,” Ari mutters.
-
But you never picked up a single call and for some reason, even picked up that Ari thought of swinging by your apartment. You had texted him to leave you alone.
And then Saturday rolled around…
-
“How long have you been into hockey? I’d never take you up as a sports girl. Sorry that sounded terrible—“
“It’s okay, Jake.” You laugh. “Not until this year, you’re right I’m not really into sports at all. What about you?”
“I really got into it with my dad, we used to watch every game together if we could,” he smiles at the memories.
“That’s really sweet,” you smile back, placing your hand over his.
Jake Jensen is a computer science major you befriended over your French class last semester. But the both of you basically ran in the same social groups, leading to you guys staying friends.
When talking about the upcoming game, you had let it slip that you passed the deadline to donate your ticket, and couldn’t find anyone to sell it to. Leaving you to go to the game alone or getting a strike.
Jake was kind enough to let you join him. You would’ve joined Natasha and the others, but it felt too weird to you and you wanted no chance running into Ari. Especially since you weren’t wearing his jersey like you usually do.
You haven’t spoken to him all week, minus the small text you sent, and you refused to. Even though he had tried non stop to run into you on campus.
“Have you—“ Jake starts, but is interrupted by the commentators introducing the team. Everyone stood up and cheered at the sight of the school’s players.
-
Ari skates out with a smile on his face, lifting a hand in the air as he waves and joins the line of his teammates. As he does so, he tries to find you, but it’s hard to distinguish you among the wave of people in the stadium. Especially since you weren’t seated in your undesignated-designated seat closer to the rink.
But he shakes it off, putting himself in the right mindset for the game.
-
“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time for our favorite time of the night: THE KISS CAM!”
Some players skate and others like Ari, watch the Jumbotron during the brief break.
The first is an elderly couple, then a pair of random strangers who kiss under the playful pressure, two pairs of students, parents with their children who dramatically gag. That makes everyone chuckle, including himself.
They go around the stadium one last and he cannot fucking believe it. His hand becomes around his stick.
He can feel his teammates staring at him in sympathy. But Ari cannot look away from the Jumbotron.
The first thing he notices is your flustered smile, that you came to the game sans his jersey, and the most noticeable of all is the dork sitting next to you with his arm behind your seat, looking just as bashful.
He’s livid. You’ve been avoiding him all week, probably doing who knows what with this guy.
-
“You know what you gotta do,” teases the commentator. You laugh behind the back of your hand. Jake sits beside you just as flustered, scratching his eyebrow with his thumb.
In no way is he against kissing Y/n, but he also doesn’t want to make her uncomfortable.
“C’mon folks!”
You stare at Jake, shrugging a shoulder in question. Jake only smiles back before sitting up straighter. The both of you go to lean in. Your lips press softly against his until a loud smack of temper glass breaks it up.
The two of you jolt away at the sound of a disgruntled voice. You look to see Ari, “hey!” His voice booms. “Back the fuck off my girl!”
“What— who is he?” Jake’s eyebrows knit together as he points towards the enraged giant pointing a menacing finger towards him.
“An asshole who doesn’t know what he wants.” You answer, shaking your head towards Ari before you place a kiss on Jake’s cheek.
You watch as Ari stands behind the plexiglass. And even though you’re about eight rows back, you can see the confused and upset expression on his face. A pinch in his eyebrows and a pitiful glare in his eyes.
“I’m really sorry about that, Jake.”
“It’s nothing, don't worry.” He smiles, “Do you want popcorn or anything?”
“Sour patch kids, if that’s alright.”
“No problem.”
You look at anywhere but Ari during the rest of the brief intermission.
-
Ari 🏒🦁
—Meet me outside the locker room
—Please?
You sigh as you grab your stuff. Just before the two of you reach outside the stadium, you gain Jake’s attention.
“I’m really sorry to cut our hangout short, but I had a lot of fun. I just have to handle something really quickly.”
Jake tries not to show the disappointment on his face, “I’m gonna rightfully assume it has something to do with that ‘asshole who doesn’t know what he wants’?”
“Unfortunately,” you smile ruefully.
“Okay,” he nods his head. “I hope everything goes well. I’ll see you around?”
“Definitely,” you hug him before you make your way outside the doors of the locker rooms, with no trouble which you can guess is because of Ari.
You smile awkwardly at the glances of Ari’s teammates. You hate that everyone has seen that happen and you assume most of his teammates know the intimate details of what’s gone down between you two. Which only adds another layer of unnecessary awkwardness. Time passes before you feel a light tap on your shoulder, looking up to see Steve at your side, a timid grin.
“The locker is all cleared out, he’s in there waiting for you.”
“Thanks, Steve.”
-
“Ari?” You walk in to him tying his sweatpants.
He turns around with a mournful look on his face. His sweatpants low enough that you can see the bands of his Calvin’s; he’s shirtless so his six pack is on display and glistening from his shower; his hair is disheveled, but the ends still curl at the ends; and he has a towel thrown over shoulder.
You can ask any women how they could not be hung up on a guy as attractive as him.
“Hey,” he sends a small smile, making his way towards you.
“Wait—“ you interrupt, “We cannot have this conversation if you’re shirtless.”
He won’t argue, but he does as you’ve said and throws on some ratty t shirt in his locker. He sits on the bench in front of his locker, patting the spot next to you.
You sit beside him, making sure to keep some distance between you two.
“I see you’re not wearing your jersey?”
The audacity of men will always surprise you.
“Your jersey and is that really the first thing you want to talk about?”
“You’re right…” warily his hand grabs yours and when he sees you won’t retract from him, he brings it his plush lips. “I’m really sorry, Y/n. Seriously.”
“What you said Sunday was totally uncalled for and spiteful— and where do you get off announcing to practically the whole state that I'm your girl? And You embarrassed poor Jake for nothing.”
“It wasn’t for nothin’ and the douche will be fine.” He staggers at the fire in your eyes. “Sorry, I’m sorry.”
“That seems to be the only thing you can say,” you huff. You turn to him, needing to know the answer to this. “Are you really sleeping with other people?”
He notices how small your voice is as you ask.
He sighs and looks down for a little, before tightening the grasp of your hand. “I was.”
You stand up while trying to get Ari to let go of your hand. The last thing you want is for him to see the tears begging to fall.
Ari stands with you in haste, bringing his other hand to palm your cheek as he looks down at you. Those piercing blue eyes saying so many things at once. “Was. I was. Listen, I haven’t slept with anyone else other than you since last month. It was a moment of weakness and you can’t be mad at me for it. We’ve never made anything official, baby.”
“Do you even care about me? At all.”
It feels vulnerable and desirous, but you’re unsure how you can continue without asking.
“What? Did tonight not show you that?”
You go to argue, but he cuts you off before you can start.
Both his hands cup your face while his thumb draws circles on the apple of your cheekbones.
“I love you.”
Your breath picks up at his admission.
“It’s been months coming, but you gotta know since our first night together I haven’t slept with anyone other than Joy and that was only once. And I didn’t think I could tell you because.. I’m just not the guy you typically go for, Y/n. But I guess that was my own insecurities playing a part of that. I’m rambling and i probably sound like Steve after he takes one hit. But I promise I’ve admired you for so long and it has never been just sex to me. I don’t want my stupid mistake to get in the way of us trying correctly this time.”
You swing your arm over the back of his neck and pull him in a kiss, your other hand fists his shirt.
He lags at first before his brain catches up and he’s kissing you back harder. He tilts his head just a smidge like he always does and one of his hands comes up to cup the back of your head. You feel his other hand cup the side your body. His hand roams up and down before he’s slipping it behind you to squeeze your ass. You moan into him, pressing your body closer to him.
Both your breaths pick up and you know you need a breather. So you pull away in a blur.
“I love you too.”
He smiles at your admission. One of those adorable, rare smiles not many get to see from the broody man.
You smack his arm and he grabs it with a questioning look.
“But I’m still really pissed at you and I’m not letting you off easy.”
“Even if I ask you to be my girlfriend?” He snakes his brawny arms around your waist, pulling you closer as he ducks to kiss your cheek.
“Even then,” you giggle, turning his head for a kiss. “And that’s a yes.”
-
a/n: it's been so long, hi!!! sorry i disappeared
if you enjoyed pls don’t forget to reblog or give feedback 💗
#ari levinson#chris evans#ari levinson x reader#chris evans x reader#ari levinson fluff#chris evans fanfiction#ari levinson fanfiction#ari levinson x female reader#ari levinson x fem reader#college ari levinson#hockey ari levinson#hockey player ari levinson#ari levinson fanfic#ari levinson reader insert#ari levinson one shot#ari levinson x yn#ari levinson x you#ari levinson drabble#ari levinson x y/n#ari levinson imagine#chris evans one shot#chris evans character fanfiction
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MASTERLIST
Hopelessly Devoted (PART ONE)
Summary: A flashback to when you and Tommy were young, carefree and smitten with one another plays out in your head as you sit alone in the Garrison, watching him now in the arms of another woman whilst you desperately hold onto the love you still have for him. Does Tommy share the same sentiments or has his bitterness towards you stained the love he claims he no long has for you?
Warnings: Language, angst, fluff, mutual pining
Authors note: Inspired by the song "Hopelessly Devoted" by Olivia Newton-John. RIP sweet angel.
"We're bloody late again!" your mother muttered under her breath as she hurried up the church steps holding onto her hat from the bitter January wind whilst you are your little brother George, lovingly known as Georgie walked behind her. "Ten minutes until we leave I said" she huffed turning around, scowling at you as you rolled your eyes in response. "Ten minutes! In the time it took for you to put your dress on I had swept the porch and gotten your brother ready. Why did you give me such an unruly child?" she said looking up to the heavens expecting some sort of response. "Out all hours gallivanting about with those Shelby boys, never listening to a word I say. I'm being punished aren't I, for the sins of her father...the bloody fool he was, drinking himself to an early grave, leaving me here to fend for myself with two kids..." she carried on as you held your little brothers hand, a small sigh leaving his mouth as he looked up at you, shaking his head at your mother's relentless rambling. " Y/N let me look at you. Bloody hell child, you look a state!" she frowned as she turned to face you at the top of the steps.
"Can you just stop" you said trying to move her hands away as she pushed your hair back behind your ears, pinching your cheeks to give them a rosy glow. "Look at your dress..." she huffed as she straightened the bottom out, pulling at the frilly pink fabric whilst your little brother reached up to open the church door. "Stay still!" she said as you started fidgeting away from her hands, her overbearing mothering making you feel like you was eight years old again.
" For god's sake I'm not a kid!" you replied rather loudly when the doors fully opened and everyone in their seats turned around to look at the commotion. "Shit" you mumbled under your breath as you looked to the sea of eyes now staring back at you, the loud bang of the church door slamming against the brick wall startling you as your little brother giggled in amusement.
" Bloody Walk Y/N" your mother said through gritted teeth behind you as she took her and George's hat off. Smiling graciously left to right at the people seated along the outer rows your mother politely mouthed small hellos and good mornings as all three of you made your way down the aisle, her normal vocabulary filled with a plethora of her favourite profanities not once leaving her lips. Turning your head you quickly spotted Tommy sitting next to his family with a huge grin on his face, loving every second of the embarrassment he knew you was enduring. As the sound of your heels on the stone floor echoed loudly through the church, your entrance now the focus point of everyone's attention, you finally reached the alter with the Reverend stood beside it. You could almost feel the laughter Tommy and Arthur were holding back as your mother pushed you forward to bow. With a grunt leaving your throat you lowered your head, a small mischievous glint in your eye at the sudden, yet stupid idea to prove to your mother how unruly of a child you really was.
" Forgive me father for I have sinned, it has been mere hours since I last pissed my mother off..." You said dramatically as your mother's eyes widened in embarrassment a gasp leaving her mouth as she grabbed you by the arm and span you back around, all while apologising profusely to the Priest now shaking his head at her. Oh the shame, the humiliation, she would never live this down. The gossip she would have to endure for months in the women's wash house was a fair consolation for her making you wear this god awful dress you proudly thought to yourself as you walked to find a seat. Sighing the Reverend lowered his eye as he turned the page of his sermon, longing to be appointed somewhere, anywhere out of Small Heath. No number of hail Mary's could save this sinful town. As you walked down the aisle the sudden sound of Tommy and Arthur laughing had you biting your inner cheek holding back your own amusement as you watched Polly snap her head in their direction.
" Shut up" Polly whispered as she reached over hitting each of them in the chest. "Bloody kids" she mouthed sympathetically to your mother as you all walked by.
" Girlfriend finally made it" Arthur whispered in Tommy's ear, knowing full well how smitten he was with you.
" Shes not my girlfriend, shut it" he muttered under his breath as you sent him a small wave which he quickly returned.
" Hi ya" Arthur laughed mocking him.
" Fuck off Arthur" Tommy replied as he elbowed him in the ribs leaving him wincing in pain.
" I'll let you have that one baby brother" he laughed rubbing his side.
" No fucking swearing in church!" Polly said quietly through gritted teeth as she hit the back of Tommy's head. It was always an eventful service when the Shelby's attended, which made you wonder what they had done to have their Aunt force them this time.
Walking out into the fresh air, free from the stuffy confines of the church you pushed back your hair behind your shoulders folding your arms as you faced the sun. Closing your eyes you sighed as the rays of light beamed onto your skin. With summer still a long way off you was enjoying the rare event in which the sun broke through the smoke filled skies of Small Heath. That was until you felt the warmth disappear and a large shadow take it's place. Opening your eyes you was met with Tommy Shelby standing right in front of you, a cigarette precariously hanging on the corner of his mouth, grinning from ear to ear.
" Get out the way you're blocking the sun" you said as you pushed him to the side closing your eyes again.
" Hmm, you are looking rather pasty"
" Thanks Thomas, you really know how to compliment a lady" you said taking the cigarette out his mouth as you walked over to sit on the brick wall just outside the church.
"Lady?" Tommy laughed as he sent you a cheeky smile." Nice dress by the way. You look like a flower girl"
" Shut up" you said playfully hitting his arm in response, hating everything about the overly embroidered puffy dress you were begrudgingly wearing. " Have you seen yourself?" you smirked looking down at his outfit "Think your Aunt needs to shorten those" you laughed as you nodded to the ends of his trousers bunched up around his boots.
" They're Arthur's hand-me-downs, the lanky git" he said kicking a stone on the ground that you both watched roll into the road.
" So what did you do this time to end up here on a Sunday morning?" You asked as you turned your head to face him.
" Aunt Pol found out Arthur stole one of the candelabras from the Reverends study. Convinced himself it was solid gold, you should have seen his face when we melted it down in Charlie's yard and it was copper" Tommy laughed as he looked back at you. " Polly was furious said he had sinned enough for the whole house and we were all damned to hell if we didn't come today" he explained further as his eyes lingered on your face, watching the way your nose scrunched up as you laughed, a sight he never got tired of. " So you coming later?" he asked leaning into you as he took his cigarette now stained with pink lipstick back from between your fingers, not that he minded.
" No absolutely not. Do you not remember the last time we followed one of Arthur's genius ideas?" you answered folding your arms having already made your mind up.
" He's got a map this time. Come on it will be fun" he said nudging his arm against yours.
" A map to what?"
" To where this rich fuck has all his liquor stored"
"Can I come?" John said running up to you both after overhearing the conversation, poking his brothers knee with a stick in attempt to get his attention which Tommy quickly put a stop to by giving him a kick in the shin.
" No, fuck off " Tommy said pushing him away from in front of him as John stormed off crying in search of his Aunt. " So how about it? "
" Fine, but only because it's your birthday tomorrow" you said giving in as you both smiled to eachother. "But this better be fool proof. I can't risk getting in trouble with my mum again, she's a few breaths away from kicking me out"
" That's alright, you can come live with me" he said winking to you as you looked up at him through your lashes, blushing a darker shade of pink than your dress." We'll come by to get you at eleven, don't be late ok? "
" I'm never late" you responded as Tommy rolled his eyes flicking his cigarette onto the ground. If there was one thing he had learnt over the years it was that you was always late.
" Thomas Michael Shelby! " Polly shouted as she stormed over to you both, dragging John with her by the arm.
"Shit. Right I'm off" Tommy said quickly pecking your cheek as he jumped over the wall running away from his Aunt. Bringing your hand up to your face you pressed your fingers to your skin, a smile dancing on your lips as you turned around to watch Tommy run into the back alleys of Small Heath, fleeing from the fury coming his way. Thomas Michael Shelby your best friend, your partner in crime and also the boy you had been head over heels for as long as you could remember. What a sorry story your limited love life had already been, endlessly pining for a boy you had convinced yourself only saw you as a friend, desperately hoping he felt the same.
It was just after noon when you Tommy and Arthur made your way over the wooden fencing onto the large mansions land. Having never once left the city limits in all of your eighteen years of life you was taken aback by the sheer size of the house in front of you. Surrounded by luscious green grass, rows of trees adorning its drive way, you was sure it was something only seen in films, a far cry from the mud and dirt of Small Heath.
" Give me the map" Tommy said as Arthur handed it to him whilst he looked over the brick wall separating you and the owner who was outside sitting in a garden chair.
"Arthur he has a dog. A mean looking thing" you said as Tommy stood beside you squinting at the map in his hand.
"Yeh well, he would have still been out with that dog hunting, but you were late" Tommy interjected with a smile on his face, having been right about your constant tardiness.
"Don't get your knickers in a twist Y/N, I've been coming here every day for the past week feeding him leftovers, he likes me. He won't make a peep " Arthur said trying to reassure you as you rolled your eyes at him knowing anything the eldest Shelby said was not to be trusted and far from the actual truth.
" Jesus Christ Arthur" Tommy said throwing the map at his brothers chest. " This is a fucking map for a house in London!"
" Ay?" Arthur said as he straightened it out in front of him. " Where's it say that? " he asked as Tommy snatched it back from him pointing at the words "London" written right underneath the name of the house.
" Well how was I supposed to bloody know. They should have put it at the very top"
" It's in fucking capitals Arthur, how can you not..."
" Right I'm going home" you said as the two brothers continued to argue. As always Arthur's ideas were never properly thought out, often getting you in trouble more than anything else.
" Wait Y/N no, come on stay" Tommy said as he looked back to his older brother widening his eyes in gesture to help him convince you not to leave.
" Y/N " Arthur said as he put his arm around your shoulder. " We're at the back entrance. He probably keeps it down in the basement, it won't be far. You're the only one small enough to shimmy through the window to open the lock on the other side. Come on, dont let us down, it's Tom's birthday tomorrow. "
" Fine. But if I put another ladder in my stockings you're paying for a new pair" you said pointing to him as Arthur placed a wooden crate below the window for you to stand on.
"Atta girl" Arthur said as he turned his head around winking to Tommy as you climbed through the window, quickly making in through to the other side. Pushing past his brother, Tommy went to open the door when the dog Arthur promised wouldn't bark suddenly started to do exactly that.
" Hey! Who's there?" the owner said as you all ran into the house. " Get 'em boy" he shouted as his dog came charging round the corner into the building.
" Fucking traitor! After all the food I gave you" Arthur shouted as you all ran down the hall, making your way up to the second level.
" What did you feed him with?" you asked breathlessly as you ran beside them, Tommy's hand resting on your back making sure you didn't get left behind.
"Sprouts"
"Sprouts!" You and Tommy both shouted looking back at him.
" It's all we had"
" No wonder he bloody hates you" Tommy said as all three of you came to a stop behind a wall waiting for a maid to walk by.
" Sniff them out" the owner said as you heard the sound of the dogs nails clicking on the wooden floorboards, getting closer by the second.
" Shiiit, run! Hide! Arthur giggled as you legged it down one of the second floor corridors, Tommy quickly pulling you into a small storage room to the side as Arthur continued to run down the hall. Breathless, you both looked up at eachother as a fit of laughs left your lips. Bringing his finger up to his mouth Tommy gestured for you to be quiet as the sound of the owner walking along the corridor quickly brought your giggles to a stop. Taking in your surroundings you suddenly realised how close you were to eachother. Cardboard boxes were stacked as high as the ceiling all around you, there was barely enough space for one person let alone two.
" Is he gone?" you whispered to which Tommy nodded, his eyes looking over you as he too started to realise how close you were to one another." You're taking all the space" you said trying to free yourself from the uncomfortable position you was in.
" Y/N my backs pushed up against the door. I don't have any more room to move" he said as you huffed in response moving your arm that was stuck between you to the side. Silence fell upon the small room as you continued to fidget in place whilst Tommy cleared his throat, his eyes darting between you and the surrounding boxes.
" What? Why do you keep looking at me like that" you said with a thrown on your face.
" I'm not looking at you like anything" Tommy replied as he quickly glanced away. With your focus now elsewhere, Tommy's eyes drifted down to both of your bodies pressed up against eachother, biting his inner cheek in attempt to rid himself of all the thoughts going through his mind. Taking in every delicate feature of your face, Tommy felt his heart quicken as he continued to stare down at you. God you were beautiful, he had been wanting to tell you those very words for years, wanted to ask you out, tell you how he felt. But unlike his old brother who seemed to have endless amounts of confidence when it came to girls, Tommy never found the courage to make a move. Instead he begrudgingly tormented himself, watching all the boys of Small Heath try their luck with you.
" You're doing it again, stop it!" you said squinting your eyes as you looked up to see him still staring down at you. " You're making me nervous"
" What else am I supposed to look at, you're right in front of me " he said with a small sigh. Just ask her you idiot, he thought to himself as he peered at you in the corner of his eye.
" Y/N erm, I was wondering..." he started to say when you grabbed his hand your eyes widening in a panic.
" Shh. Did you hear that?" You said as you looked behind him to the door.
" Its just a window blowing open" he replied as he glanced down at your hand still holding onto his. Throwing his head back Tommy shook his head, frustrated that the moment he had finally found the courage to ask you out you had cut him off. Bringing his eyes back down to look at you, Tommy took a deep breath. If he couldn't say how he felt he would show it. What was the worse that could happen?
" Fuck it" he said as he cupped your cheeks crashing his lips onto yours. For a brief moment you resisted taken by surprise at Tommy's unexpected move until your whole body finally relaxed and you quickly melted into the kiss. There was no technique to it, wet, messy, all tongues and teeth. But as your lips interlocked you felt a flutter of butterflies fill your stomach, your hands finding their way to his shoulders as Tommy enthusiastically pushed you back the few centimeters remaining between you and the wall behind you.
" Owh" you said as your head hit the wall, the thump loud enough for anyone to hear.
" Shit, sorry" Tommy said as a small giggle escaped your mouth at his overly keen display. Pressing your lips back onto his the kiss was smoother, a small whimper leaving your throat as his tongue brushed over yours. Moaning, Tommy's hand dropped from your waist to your leg as his fingers travelled under you skirt grazing over your suspenders. Things were getting heated, very heated.
" Wait, Tommy I've, i'm a.."
" Fuck sorry, I wasn't trying to" Tommy awkwardly said cutting you and himself off. " Wait, you're a Virgin?" he asked with a small smile etched on the corner of his lips his brows slightly raised.
" Why do you look so surprised? " you answered back, your whole face scrunched up in annoyance.
" No nothing. It's just I didn't think you was...you know" he replied unable to formulate his own words.
" Oh and you're not? You really think I believed that ridiculous story you told us all last summer about how you gave Irene five orgasms in ten minutes" you scoffed with a laugh as Tommy's cheeks suddenly went a crimson shade of red, his hands dropping from your waist.
" Jesus...thanks Y/N" Tommy said looking away with a huff unable to physically move away from the embarrassment surrounding him.
" Slightly exaggerated don't you think? " you giggled as Tommy looked back at you, his hands now on his hips.
" You done?" he huffed as you bit your bottom lip trying to hold back the laugh that was seconds away from escaping. As Tommy pressed his lips back onto yours the small giggle unable to contain itself finally broke free.
" Stop it, I'm trying to concentrate" he said smiling into your lips as he continued to kiss you, his hands roaming over the curves of your body when the door suddenly flew open.
" Oi oi, what's going on in here then? " Arthur said grinning at you both as you let go of eachother. Rolling your eyes you walked out the small room pushing past him the box of whisky and leg of ham he was holding. "Get to second base baby brother?" Arthur sniggered as Tommy thumped him in the arm.
" Fuck off Arthur" Tommy pouted leaving the room and his older brother in fits of laughter. Both barely out the door, your eyes widened as the owner and his dog turned the corner.
" You little bastards. I've seen your faces. I know who you are! You're those trouble making Shelby boys. And look, you've brought your little whore with you, that dead drunk idiot's daughter. How did you petty little thieves make it out of Small Heath, steal a car?"
" Hey! Nobody gets to call her a whore but us" Arthur warned the owner pointing his finger at him as Tommy protectively pushed you behind him. Now in a stand-off between the owner and his drooling dog growling at you, you watched as he unclasped the large metal chain from the dogs collar.
" Go on boy get 'em!" he commanded when Tommy grabbed the leg of ham out the crate in Arthur's arms, launching it in the dog's direction.
" My bloody ham!" Arthur said, furious his dinner had been tossed to the the very dog he felt had betrayed him.
" Run!" Tommy shouted as you all turned around.
" I'm calling the police!"
" Thanks for the whisky old man" Arthur laughed running down the stairs as you and Tommy followed behind him, mentally noting never to follow one of Arthur's ideas again.
Several hours had passed and you Tommy, Arthur and a girl he had picked up along the way were sitting around a campfire in the local woods where Arthur and Tommy's families two vardos were, sipping on the finest whisky you had ever tasted. You couldn't remember the amount of times they had brought you out here to camp, taking you away for a brief moment from the smoke filled air, from the memories of your father that hung over you thicker than any fogged filled skies, a grief you wouldn't have made it through without them. As you sat looking at the flames of the fire mesmerised by their orange glow Tommy glanced over to you, watching the flickering lights from the campfire cast a golden hue on your skin, desperate to be alone with you again, the kiss you shared earlier repeatedly playing out in his head.
" Come on love, let's leave them to it" Arthur said standing up taking his dates hand after noticing his brother staring at you. " See you in the morning" Arthur winked back to Tommy opening the small caravan door, squeezing the girls bum as they both entered. " If the caravan be rocking, don't come a knocking!" Arthur laughed as he shut the door leaving you alone with Tommy.
" Dickhead" Tommy mumbled under his breath as you looked away, biting your bottom lip at how awkward Arthur had suddenly made everything. "It's getting late" you said standing up as you brushed the mud and twigs off your skirt looking back at the other vardo.
" I'll sleep out here" Tommy said as he sat up throwing another log onto the fire.
" You can't sleep out here, you'll freeze to death. Come on, it's not like we've never slept in the same bed" you said only just realising how different this time would be.
" Right, yeh...ok" Tommy said clearing his throat as he stood up.
As you settled into the small bed you watched as Tommy took of his hat and coat, your heart rapidly beating as nerves started to mount in your stomach. Climbing under the covers Tommy turned to face you, his fingers coming up to brush the strands of hair away from your face. Leaning into eachother, both of you turned your head in the same direction, awkwardly banging your foreheads together, resulting in a fit of laughs leaving your lips as Tommy shook his head at you. It was quite possible you were the giggliest girl he had ever met. Relaxing you recomposed yourself as Tommy pressed his lips to yours in a tender embrace. As his hand moved to your lower back, pressing your body closer to his your breath hitched in you throat, nerves now consuming every movement you made. Pulling away Tommy rubbed his thumb over your hip, in an effort to help you relax.
" Let's just lay here together, yeh?" he said taking the pressure away from you, not wanting to rush you into anything you wasn't ready for you as you nodded your head, thankful for his understanding nature. Rolling onto his back Tommy brought you closer into his side as he stroked up and down your arm, happy to finally have you in his arms.
" I nearly forgot" you said as you sat up leaning across him to pick up your coat.
" Happy Birthday" you said pulling out a small gift wrapped in cloth.
" My birthdays not until tomorrow " he chuckled as he sat up.
" It will be in ten minutes" you said as you looked down at your watch, quickly returning your eyes to him pulling out a gold pocket watch from within the delicate fabric.
" Jesus Y/N...you got this for me, how? " he said with a huge grin on his face as he looked to you.
" All those hours pressing clothes. Took me almost a year to be able to afford it"
"Come here" he said bringing you into a hug as you settled back down into the bed together." Thank you" he added as he pressed a kiss to your forehead feeling happier than any win he had ever won at the races.
With his arm securely wrapped around you Tommy couldn't stop the smile on his face as he looked down at the watch in his hand, it was nicest thing he owned and the nicest thing anyone had ever done for him. Glancing at your wristwatch, Tommy turned the dials to the right time, when you took it from him turning it back a further five minutes.
" It's five minutes too late" he said watching you press the knob down.
" That way I'll always be on time for you" you giggled handing it back as Tommy chuckled shaking his head.
" Yeh just means I won't be on time for anything" he smiled closing the watch, keeping it tightly clasped in his hand as you nuzzled your head into his chest.
" Tommy?"
" Mm-hm?" he said as his eyes were about to close.
" What do you think we'll be doing this time ten years from now"
" The same thing" he smiled as his thumb rubbed over the curve of your shoulder. "Only naked" he said as he opened one eye looking to you.
" Tommy!" You said, giving him a small punch to the arm. " I'm serious, what do you think we'll be doing?"
" The same thing Y/N" he said with certainty as he tuned his head to face you. " You'll be in my arms every night from now on, that's a promise" he said as he looked lovingly back at you before giving you one last peck to the lips as you both closed your eyes, dreaming of the future and everything coming your way. Even though you were both young with your whole lives ahead of you one thing was for certain, in that moment you had no doubts that you wouldn't spend the rest of your lives together and every night in each others arms.
Ten years later...
Laughs and chatter of people enjoying eachothers company hummed around you as you sat quietly in the corner of the Garrison, the drink in your hand untouched as the night you and Tommy spent together this time ten years ago asleep in each others arms cruelly played out in your head. As a tear fell from your eye you looked up across the room to see the new barmaid sat tightly against Tommy's body, his arm resting around her shoulders. Tonight it wouldn't be you wrapped in his arms, tonight you would sleep alone as regret over decisions you had made weighed down your already broken heart. Standing up from your seat Tommy's eyes quickly darted to you, watching you pull your coat around you as you brushed the tears from your face, leaving the Garrison in a hurry unable to withstand anymore.
Clutching your coat around you from the cold night air you pushed the last tears from your cheeks as the pain in your heart dug further into your chest.
" Y/N" you heard your name being called by the very man you didn't want to see you like this.
"Yes Tommy" you said turning around as he waited at the Garrison door.
" I need you to go finish those papers at the betting shop for tomorrow" he said lighting a cigarette as he stepped a little closer.
" It's nearly midnight..." you replied as you watched him pull out his pocket watch to check the time. Quickly closing it Tommy clutched it tightly in his hand as he looked back at you. For a brief moment that's all he did as if the memories of that night had suddenly come flooding back to him. Maybe they had never left, and Tommy's heart was aching as much of yours, either way you could never tell, for just as quickly as his face softened for those brief few moments his demeanor abruptly changed, a scowl now spread across his face.
" The deadlines tomorrow " he said sharply looking to you as you shivered in the cold, your eyes red from crying.
" Ok Tommy" you said like you always did, at his beck and call night and day, desperately hanging onto the love you still felt for him. Without saying another word you turned on your heel heading for Watery Lane.
" You not going to wish me a happy birthday then?" Tommy called out as he watched you walk away.
" Happy birthday Tommy" you replied, the words catching in your throat, tears streaming down your face as you walked briskly off into the night. So much had changed over the years, so many promises broken, hearts broken along with them. But yet you still held on, hopelessly devoted to the man who promised to hold you in his arms every night.
NEXT PART
Tag list: @cosniffee @jonsncws @powellssaturn @jessimay89 @bruher @riseandreigns4u @mariaelizabeth21-blog1
#tommy shelby#thomas shelby#tommy shelby x y/n#tommy shelby fanfic#tommy shelby x you#tommy shelby imagine#peaky blinders fanfic#tommy shelby x reader#peaky blinders#hopelessly devoted
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struggle (Daemon x Wife!Reader)
Reader: she/her (Fem!Reader)
/NSFW Daemon Targaryen x Wife!Reader/
A/N: Not requested but I'm obsessed with this man… it's a little dark but I hope you like it! Also, it's probably ooc, sorry!
Warnings: Use of (Y/N), dub-con, rough sex, dacryphilia, piv sex (unprotected), mentions of violence, emotional abuse.
Word Count: 1.8k
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When Daemon realized he was marrying you, he promised himself he would make your life hell. He didn't even know you and had no reason to begrudge you, but your family... he hated your family.
A bunch of gold diggers, he would say, only interested in status. Maybe your parents were just that, but you only wanted to play your part as a good wife... but Daemon would deny you that.
After the wedding, instead of spending the night with you, he went straight into his whore's arms. Not that he didn't find you alluring, extremely attractive even... but he wanted to humiliate you, and it worked.
Not only didn't he consummate your marriage, he treated you poorly, to say the least. Daemon made you feel insignificant like he hated you for something you didn't even do.
You were tired of his rudeness, his emotional abuse. You were kind, gentle even... but you were reaching your limit.
One night at a festivity, you decided to dance. It didn't matter the partner, you just wanted to have fun. It didn't even occur to ask for your husband's approval, he didn't seem to care.
But he did... deep down his pride was shaken when he saw you with another man, laughing and twirling around. How dare she, Daemon would think.
He followed you to your chambers afterward, intruding on your space and angrily shouting horrid accusations at you. You calmly tried explaining yourself but your tranquility only made him angrier, causing him to point his finger at you. "I didn't know I had married a wench!"
And that was it, your temper exploded in a burst of fury that had been boiling for months now. You slapped him hard across the cheek, his face turning sideways at the impact. He slowly turned to look at you, fire in his eyes.
"Compare me to one of your whores again and I'll cut your tongue out myself!" You hissed. Daemon was... shocked, a pleasant sensation creeping into his core. His teeth appeared in a menacing grin, reminding you of a dragon ready for battle.
Daemon loved humiliating you, especially because you were an easy victim, always too good to him even when he didn't deserve it. But now... you were showing your teeth.
"Now get out, leave me be." You waved to the doors, completely unaffected by his intimidating glare. He admired your wits, found it provocative, enticing.
Daemon looked at your eyes for any sign of weakness, but he couldn't find any... you were stronger than he anticipated. He slowly made his way out of your chambers, and that night was a restless night for the prince.
The next few days were... strange. Daemon would follow you everywhere, suddenly interested in your routine, even treating you decently for once.
But you weren't buying any of that, cutting his advances out quick and short. He only smiled at your dry responses, and that infuriated you even more.
One night Daemon dared to pursue you into your chambers, creeping like a shadow. He slowly made his way behind you, lightly grabbing at your waist and pulling you towards his chest while smelling your hair.
You quickly thrust your elbow into his ribs, causing him to back up while wincing in pain. "Fucking hell!"
You quickly turned around, looking into his eyes. "What do you want from me, Daemon?"
His hands covered his chest, still breathing from the sharp pain you had caused... he looked infuriated. "Heaven's sake, I only thought... I wanted to finally consummate our marriage. It's about time, don't you think?"
A nervous laugh escaped your lips, you were incredulous. After all that time, he had the guts to even consider that? You couldn't be more mad.
"You were not capable of consummating our marriage then, what makes you think you could do it now?" You said audaciously, but Daemon didn't take offense.
Instead, he grew closer to you. The look he had on his face... wild desire burning in his eyes. He was a menace, but you couldn't look away.
"Because I finally find you interesting now..." His voice low and quiet, like he was telling you a secret. It made you shiver.
You couldn't deny it, you were physically attracted to him. He was extremely handsome, an exotic kind of beauty that was admired by you and many others... but you hated his guts. It was quite a conundrum, to want to kiss and kill him at the same time.
"Well, it's too late now." You knew deep down you wanted him, wanted to finally legitimate your marriage, but you were stubborn. You wanted to hurt him as much as he hurt you.
"Is it?" He grew even closer and lifted your chin up slightly with his fingers, licking his lips and admiring your pretty, angered face.
Without breaking eye contact, you defied him. "I despise you."
Daemon only looked at you for a few more seconds before lunging at you, grabbing the sides of your face and kissing you hard. He was hurting you, but a part of you was craving for that moment... the moment when he finally wanted you.
Rage bubbled inside your body, you didn't know what to think. You wanted to hate the man for what he did to you, but couldn't deny the burning desire for his attention.
You pushed Daemon several times before he let go, laughing at himself. He enjoyed your struggle, made things more compelling. "Your true colors are showing, (y/n)."
"Go to hell!" You yelled, but that was proven to be the wrong attitude. He charged at you once again, pinning you into a wall. He kissed and bit on your neck while his hands frantically roamed your body, grabbing at your hips, ass, breasts...
"Get your hands off me!" You tried pushing him off but to no avail, he was stronger and bigger than you. He soon came back to your mouth, ravishing your lips and introducing his tongue inside you.
You protested, but not for long.
As soon as his tongue touched yours you felt an incredible heat spreading through your body, radiating energy to your most sensitive areas. It felt humiliating, your body was enjoying something you knew you should hate.
You grabbed the hair at his scalp and kissed him back, humming in his mouth. He smiled into your lips, victorious.
Daemon started unclothing you frenetically, ripping the seams of your dress while doing so. You yelped as you felt his hands on your skin for the first time, cold rough hands contrasting your soft warm body.
When all your layers of clothing were off, you felt shame rising to your face. He was your husband, he had the right to see you naked, but still...
"Look at you..." He said to himself, grabbing your arm and throwing you onto the mattress. You tried to get up but he towered over you, trapping you under his body. "Where do you think you're going?"
You covered your chest with your hands and with a swift movement, you spat at his face, right on his cheek.
"Ha... that was rude." Daemon only thrived at your efforts, it only made him excited. He cleaned your spit with his fingers and then licked them clean.
Suddenly, he grabbed your neck with one of his hands. Enough pressure to hurt but not enough to leave you dizzy, he just wanted to make a point. "You are mine, whether you like it or not."
He kissed you abruptly, bruising your lips with his force. You reciprocated again, and he rubbed his crotch against yours.
"And I think you quite like it..." He taunted, and you moved your hand to pull at his hair. He hissed and tightened his grip on your neck, a warning. "Behave, now... or I won't be so gentle next time." If that was his 'gentle'... imagine what the 'rough' would look like.
Daemon continued grinding his hips against yours, causing sweet friction to appease your nerves. It felt good, and the struggle only made you hotter... it was a hard thing to admit it, but you were enjoying yourself.
You moaned against his mouth, and he smiled once again. "Shut up!" You exclaimed before he even said anything, and he laughed.
His free hand managed to take his cock out of his pants, big and hard. Daemon started to rub it against your sex, and he soon noticed how wet you were. "Putting up a fight just to excite me, what a dirty girl..."
Tears formed in your eyes from anger, you never anticipated giving in to what he wanted. You wanted to resist him, to prove to him you weren't his toy... but you just couldn't.
He swiftly introduced his member inside you, entering without easing you in. You gasped, a mild pain blooming in your insides, the feeling of him stretching you out... all of it, it felt so good.
With one hand still grasping your neck, he started moving. In and out, quick and rough. The obscene sounds your bodies made echoed through the room, accompanied by your moans.
You were leaving nail marks on his back, tears falling down your cheeks while you whined in pleasure... he licked them clean.
Daemon then lowered his other hand to abuse your most sensitive spot, rubbing it in the rhythm of his thrusts.
It was then that you gave up, completely succumbing to him. You practically screamed, begging him to not stop.
"That's my girl..." He was looking into your eyes that entire time, but decided to kiss you right before your orgasm came. A kiss so hungry that made you sure... he wanted you. Finally, he wanted you.
You came hard around his cock, moaning his name and crying even more tears, but this time from pleasure. The feeling of your walls clenching around him was enough to make him cum as well, groaning while tightening his grip on your neck, spilling his seed inside you.
Daemon soon relaxed, collapsing over you. The compression calmed you down, grounded you. He sniffed the crook of your neck, biting lightly at your shoulder.
You both stayed there for a good few moments, basking in the sound of your breathing until it occurred to you... you had consummated your marriage.
"There's no turning back now, you know." You said out loud, hoping he would listen.
"What?" He responded in a groggy voice, almost asleep.
"We are husband and wife now. You better treat me as such." You commanded, caressing his back on the parts you had scratched.
"Or else?" Daemon taunted, wanting to see your reaction.
"Or else I will kill you in your sleep." Your response was dry but casual like you were talking about the weather, and he appreciated it.
Daemon laughed, kissing your shoulder and looking up at you. You smiled at him, kissing his forehead.
—
#daemon targaryen#daemon x reader#house of the dragon#imagine#fanfic#fanfiction#headcanon#self insert#y/n#fem!reader#notyourhetloki
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thoughts incoming. something i think a lot of people online don't realize (and something i wish i could've told myself when i was younger) is that trying to enact punishment on someone you dislike who did or said something wrong for the sake of punishment rarely has a positive effect. especially when it involves attempting to publicly shame/humiliate them, such as writing a callout post with the attempt to get everyone "on your side" and to dislike that person as well. this is because, in many cases, these pursuits result in just making the target angry or upset, which at best just makes them upset and at worse reinforces their ideas. if there's someone online you disagree with and you want to try making a real change, you have to ask yourself if what you're doing is actually going to realistically lead to that outcome or if you're just lashing out in anger
i'm not perfect at this either, in fact i've been on both sides in this situation. i know how it feels to be hurt by someone when you didn't deserve it, so you want that person to hurt too, you want other people to dislike them as much as you do. i really, really get it. i also know what it's like to be cyberbullied online, back when i was a very vocal hater who had a lot of annoyingly bad takes about homestuck and said a lot of things that were at best stupid and at worse parasocial. this, understandably, annoyed a bunch of people, but then some of them decided i should get sent anon hate about it daily. all this did was a) make me feel bad and b) reinforced the idea that i wasn't doing anything wrong, because the people who disagreed with me were also sending me anon hate, so clearly they were in the wrong
i think there are moments where "calling someone out" is helpful, like if someone is running a scam, or if someone is using their platform to groom minors. this is because calling that person out actually helps to prevent them from hurting more people. however, most of the callout posts i've seen on here don't result in any positive effect and usually boil down to "PSA I NEED EVERYONE TO KNOW TUMBLRGUY634 WAS MEAN TO ME!!!!! SPREAD THE WORD!!!!!!", causing a bunch of outrage within that person's circle before fizzling out a while later with no real impact
#this post is NOT about anyone in particular#i was thinking about a blog that edited ''problematic'' art that existed a few years back but that's been gone for a long time#so please don't read this and go ''oh#clearly this is about [person]'s callout post which OP clearly disagrees with''#or anything like that. it's not referencing anything recent other than the *general* culture of calling people out on tumblr
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De-polute me - Astarion x reader
Note: Astarion means a lot to me as a character and this is kinda based off of my own trauma because I see a lot of myself in him. I also haven't written in a minute so pardon any weird phrasing.
The reader is as vaguely described as I could manage so any and all can enjoy
cw: Trauma, vomit, panic attack.
--------------------------
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Astarion knew he had to snap out of it. To come back to the present where he lay with his lover. But he couldn’t.
It was like watching the world through water. Everything was the same but somehow not. Like there was a distance and the other side held a place where he couldn’t survive right now. Where the air would leave his lungs with no way of replenishing itself. That he would choke on what he was faced with.
He watched how you slept, chest slowly rising and falling in the dim light of the fire. Still in a state of undress.
His eyes lingered on the bite on your neck. Two little puncture marks that had been reopened by his fangs so often they’d started to scar.
It made his stomach twist and turn, bile rising up his throat as he zeroed in on these tiny wounds.
He felt filthy for having left them there, even though you’d assured him time and again that it was alright. Sometimes you even enjoyed it.
But he couldn’t think of anything but how much of a parasite he was.
Leeching off of your goodwill and kindness, repaying you with his body because it was the only way he knew how. To lie on his back, purr some pretty phrases and slot into that old, familiar role of seductive pretty boy.
He had to give something back. He had to. Otherwise you’d likely come to demand payment regardless. Everyone always did. No kindness was just done for the sake of being kind.
His stomach turned again as guilt set in, draping over his shoulders like a heavy blanket. He knew he shouldn’t think these things of you but he couldn’t help it.
Quietly, he rose from his spot next to you. A place he didn’t feel should belong to him. Hells, he had seen the way Gale looked at you when he thought no one else paid attention. He could give the gentle kind of love Astarion felt incapable of.
He could grant you warmth Astarion didn’t possess. He could cook for you, share a meal, not have to leech off your body to keep himself alive.
Astarion walked a distance further into the treeline and all at once, his body lurched and his last meal found itself on the forest floor. He gagged and retched, tears flowing down his cheeks from discomfort and humiliation.
His pride felt wounded as he emptied his stomach, spitting after to try and clear the sour, copper taste from his mouth. He still stood bent over, vision blurred with tears as he fought a sob.
Suddenly he felt like a child again, desperately longing for his mother, who’s face he’d all but forgotten. He let himself cry, granting himself the luxury of it. His shoulders shook, his fangs sinking into his bottom lip as all the negative thoughts filled his head like a storm.
Then suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder, a soft voice taking him out of his head. He jerked up as if burned. He whirled around, furious he’d been caught unaware, without his knife. What if it was-
But whatever imagined horror he conjured up was nothing compared to the horror that the person who crept up on him was you.
His heart hammered against his ribs and he could hear his blood rush in his ears, vision going blurry at the edges. His breaths came stunted and he was only vaguely aware that you were speaking. But still, he felt like he was watching things through water, only this time he was drowning.
Like an animal fueled by instinct, he stepped back. He didn’t want you to touch him. For him to taint you further. He was trying to find words to say but the panic was too great.
For a moment, he thought he was about to die. That somehow, inexplicably, this would be the end of him. To die in a forest, in his own sick because he was caught in a moment of weakness .
A perfectly humiliating end to the life of a parasite of no consequence. A man who’d been so corrupt it nearly cost him his life only to be reduced to nothing but a pretty face and a willing cock. All to lead people into their untimely death, like the monster he was. A pretty face with a rotten core.
He didn’t realize he was saying these things aloud, nor that he was crying until your hand gingerly wiped his tears away. He flinched and he saw the heartbreak on your face, another twist of the dagger that had lodged itself into his chest.
“Breathe.”
The one word cut through the fog in his head and somehow he willed himself to obey your gently spoken command. The first breath in was stunted, like a small child after a crying fit. But breathing was easy enough to do, a simple thing to focus on for just a moment as he found the hurt, humiliation and pain he felt.
In, out. In. Hold. Out.
In. Hold. Out.
In. Out
He calmed down slowly, his vision sharpening, his heart slowing down.
And there you stood, eyes trained on him with a look of concern in your eyes.
His first instinct was anger. He already had a cutting remark on his tongue but he swallowed it.
You were worried about him. You were just trying to help.
“Are you okay?”
Astarion found himself bristling again at the comment, righting his back and pointing his chin, as if he had any pride left to hold onto. As if you didn’t just see him in the middle of a panic attack because god forbid you saw him as weak.
“I’m fine.” He lied, hating how unsteady his voice sounded.
You looked at him in a way that let on you were the farthest thing from fooled and he didn’t want to give up the game. To tear himself open, cry into your arms like a small part of him wanted to.
Eventually, you nodded.
“Can I touch you?’
The simple question knocked the wind out of him. A simple ask of consent disarmed him fully and he wanted to loathe himself for it again but couldn’t. He was so tired.
“Please.” Came his reply. Soft and pained as he finally stopped fighting himself.
You had barely embraced him when a new torrent of tears came. He buried his face in the junction of where your neck met your shoulder. A place he was intimately familiar with, but right now it wasn’t about sating his hunger. He felt your hand gently stroke his back as you comforted him.
Years of habit made him wonder when you’d use this against him but he did his best to ignore the thought. Instead focusing on the here and now. On the smell of your skin, how soft and warm you felt against him, of the sound of your voice as you told him he was alright. That you were there.
And for a moment, Astarion allowed himself to feel it.
To feel safe.
He felt the urge to be sick again.
Despite himself, he breathed deep like he had earlier, his crying slowing to a soft sniveling. He untangled himself from your embrace, your eyes still on him. He couldn’t bare to meet your gaze, clearing his throat as he studied the forest floor beneath your feet.
“Is there anything you need?” You asked and the question seemed a little absurd to him. He quietly shook his head.
“If it’s all the same to you, darling, I would like to go back to bed. And not speak of this again.”
His tone was a little harsh but you seemed to not take offense. You merely gave him the ghost of a smile.
“Come. I have a waterskin so you can rinse your mouth.” you said, half turning to the campsite.
Astarion nodded. He wanted to say thank you but the words rested heavy on his tongue only for them to die there.
In silence, the pair made their way back to the fire. With that frustratingly soft look on your face, you handed him your waterskin.
Astarion rinsed his mouth, relieved to no longer taste blood for a moment. He handed it back to you before quietly settling in so you could sleep and he could close his eyes for a moment.
Then tomorrow you could both pack up your things and move on to the next place. Kill what needed killing and pretend to be heroes.
“Would it be alright if I held you?”
Astarion looked up, surprised because despite himself, he was already getting back into his own head. He deflected it, as he usually did.
“Cannot get enough of me, darling?” The words, even if they were meant in jest, rang a little hollow. You gave him a look and he simply nodded, almost reluctantly settling in your arms.
He focused on the sound of your heartbeat, the rhythm of it lulling him into something close to comfort. He heard your breaths slow, sleep dragging you back into the land of dreams.
Astarion’s own eyes grew heavy as he settled against you, And for a moment, despite the fact the gods had never listened, he found himself thanking them for making someone like you.
Because even if he still had a long road to go, you made him feel a little less like a monster, and a little more like Astarion Ancunin.
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A Taste of Plums | Astarion x Female!Tav
Chapter 11: Fun
Summary: Astarion is surprised, in more ways than one, by the morning after.
Rating/Warnings: PG, casual murder, poisoning, degradation/humiliation.
Full tag list on AO3. Read on AO3. Chapter 10❤️🔥
Astarion wakes from his trance surprisingly refreshed. He stretches his nude body languidly, enjoying the brief flash of soreness in his muscles. Beside him, Tav still rests peacefully. He openly admires her, his eyes lingering on the bite marks he gave her last night. The mottled petals of the bruises lay so beautifully against her skin.
The morning sunlight streams through the canopy in golden ribbons as Astarion quietly rises, moving to bask in a nearby sunbeam. His mind goes blank as he lets the pleasure of it all wash over him. He hasn’t felt this good in a long time.
His plan is working. He’s safe and full. The morning sun feels so warm on his skin.
“Good morning,” Tav interrupts his musings, her voice gravelly with sleep.
“Good morning,” he replies. He’s loath to turn around, wanting to keep sunning himself, so he shifts slightly so he can watch her out of the corner of his eye. “You’re up early! I thought you’d be exhausted after last night.”
“Oh, I am,” Tav yawns. She arches her back in a deep stretch, her nipples pebbling in the morning chill. Light purple hickeys dot her breasts, each one a small reminder of their night together. They will take days to fade. “I quite enjoyed myself,” she admits, smiling at him. Astarion preens. Of course she did. All according to plan.
Behind him, he can hear Tav get to her feet. “Did you have fun?” she asks, suddenly tentative.
“Of course, my darling,” Astarion answers, surprised by the question. “You’re a veritable feast.”
“Good, I’m glad,” Tav says, relieved. “Towards the end, I was worried that something may have been wrong?” Astarion stiffens imperceptibly. “But I wasn’t sure and I didn’t want to ruin the moment.” Astarion isn’t quite sure how to explain this.
“I was holding back a little, it’s true,” he reveals. “I didn’t want to lose control. Delicious as you were, I didn’t want to go too far.”
It’s the truth, it’s just not the whole truth. For the sake of the plan it was imperative that he perform correctly, and that meant remaining in control. But even though their tryst may have been tailored to Tav’s pleasure and tastes, he still enjoyed himself. Even holding back, he experienced more pleasure last night than he has in decades. But there is no need to talk about all that.
“Oh,” Tav says, obviously chewing on his words. It occurs to Astarion that he has never had to navigate a “morning after” before. Not like this. Is it always so awkward? So vulnerable?
“Now let’s go, we have a long day ahead of us,” he prompts. He turns towards the oak tree, where he had left his clothes, but stops when he sees the pensive expression on Tav’s face.
“May I ask about your back first?” Tav asks.
Of course she had noticed it. Most of the time Astarion tries to forget it is even there. He considers brushing her off, burying his shame even deeper down. But a bigger, louder part inside of him howls for comfort.
“It’s a poem,” he explains, crossing over to the oak tree to gather up his shirt. He had left it carefully folded at the base of the trunk. “A gift from Cazador.” He pulls his shirt over his body, fussing with its fit. “He considered himself quite the artist and used his slaves as a canvas. He composed that one over the course of a night.” Tav just listens, letting him speak. “He made a lot of revisions as he went,” Astarion finishes, his voice soft and deep. He can’t quite keep the pain from those last few words.
“That’s awful,” Tav says quietly.
“Yes, well. ‘Awful’ does aptly describe Cazador,” he replies.
“Are you sure it’s a poem?” Tav asks.
“Of course I’m sure,” Astarion insists, not sure at all now. “That’s what Cazador said, as he was carving it into my back.” Cazador, who of course was a completely trustworthy source of information.
“It just doesn’t look like any poem I’ve ever seen before,” Tav presses.
“Well, I didn’t say he was a good poet!” Astarion cries. “What do you mean, ‘it doesn’t look like any poem you’ve ever seen before?’”
“Well for starters, why did he write it in Infernal?” Tav asks.
“Infernal?“ Surprise jolts through him, settling in the pit of his stomach where it quickly curdles into fear. He has no idea what this means, but it can’t be anything good. Nothing with Cazador is.
But it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change what happened.
“I-Who knows. The bastard was insane,” he says dismissively. “Now let’s go, before I regret my restraint last night,” he purrs, trying to pivot this conversation back into comfortable territory.
Tav looks at him thoughtfully before silently dressing and gathering up her things. His flirtation falls flat, ringing falsely even to his own ears. Its hollow echo follows them all the way back to camp, where they both quietly slip into their separate tents.
~
They smell the goblin camp before they see it. A miasma of filth blankets the base of the western mountains in a bouquet of smoke, sweat, death, and dung. And, of course, that one singular, arresting note: blood. Old and new, stale and fresh, rotten and delicious. It stinks to high heaven.
There’s a group of goblin warriors guarding a narrow entrance that passes for a gate. Tav pulls them all aside before they engage.
“Listen, you three,” she levels a serious glare at Astarion, Shadowheart, and Lae’Zel. “I know the past few days have been….” She pauses, trying to choose her words carefully.
“Thoroughly frustrating?” Shadowheart remarks.
“The time of your life?,” Astarion offers, suggestively.
“Bad,” Lae’Zel declares.
“Bad,” Tav agrees. “And I know this group has had its challenges. But I don’t know what we’re going to find in there, and I don’t know what we are going have to do to make it out alive. Hopefully with Halsin, but we need to anticipate the worst. We can only make it through this together. I need the most vicious and ruthless fighters of our group to have each other’s backs today. So, can you put aside your differences to make this work?”
“Of course, darling. I’m a consummate professional,” Astarion vows.
“Affirmative,” Lae’Zel confirms.
“So long as nothing is said to me, I’ll be fine,” Shadowheart says, turning up her nose. Tav sighs.
“I’ll take it. Let’s go.”Tav is all business now, already forging ahead with the business of the day. Which is perfect, because Astarion has absolutely no desire to address the morning’s awkwardness. He’s trying to enjoy his victory, but something still feels off to him. Last night was a success, but there’s a nagging voice inside of him that says it was not enough. That he will need to do more to truly secure his place.
Lae’Zel, Shadowheart, and Astarion all watch as Tav bluffs her way past the goblin guard at the entrance. Just as they are about to pass, the guard stops her and points to a gelatinous turd at his feet. He gestures to it with his hand and pantomimes applying it to his face. Tav takes his suggestion, bending down to scoop up the excrement.
“Oh no,” Astarion whispers to their cohort.
“She wouldn’t,” Shadowheart whispers back, incredulous.
“She had better not,” Lae’Zel growls. Tav looks back at them over her shoulder. Their disgust for this is palpable, magnified in triplicate. Her eyes find Astarion’s.
And she winks.
Tav flings the poop directly in the goblin’s face, immediately souring any hope of peaceful entry. Astarion laughs a high, whooping laugh as he rushes to high ground. He easily snipes the goblins who try to call for help while Lae’Zel, Shadowheart, and Tav clear the remaining guard with relish and ease. So much for goblin security.
“Did you really think that I would do that?” Tav asks them as she leads the way inside. “Did you really think I would smear shit on my face?”
“I’m never quite sure what you are going to do next,” Astarion teases. Tav glares at him, playing at being insulted. Well, maybe she is a little insulted. “I just meant that you are full of surprises, darling.”
Tav hums a low, sarcastic note. “Good surprises, I hope?” she replies. There’s a hopeful glimmer in her eye that makes his stomach flutter.
“Naturally. Only the very best,” he promises, his tone low and provocative. Tav disguises her smile with a playful eye roll.
“If you debase yourself like that for a puny goblin I truly will leave,” Lae’Zel warns. Astarion and Shadowheart hesitate at her words, but Tav giggles as if it is a joke and not a serious threat.
“Noted, Lae’Zel. I will not smear poop on my face.”
Once through the gate, no one questions their presence. The goblin camp is utter chaos, and probably more surprisingly, filled with more than goblins. As they cross a crumbling bridge, they spot a familiar face on a makeshift dias across the way.
“Is that? Volo!?” Tav gasps. Volothamp Geddarm, noted writer, adventurer, and overall smarmy fuck, fumbles his way through a monologue of nonsense as a crowd of goblins jeers and pelts him with trash.
“With fragulous crown and sceptre abrade,
Dror Ragzlin short work of the innkeeper made!”
“Bravo!!!” Tav cries, clapping loudly to drown out any booing. The goblins scowl, side-eyeing Tav with annoyance.
“Come on darling, that’s not the kind of show they want,” Astarion whispers. “They want to mock him.”
“Z’ose friends o’ yours?” A female goblin asks, her voice laden with suspicion.
“Of course not! No funny business here!” A flustered Volo laughs nervously. He shoots a quick glare at Tav.
“What are you doing? I’m busy here!” He says, shooing them away. He begins his screed again.
“Dror Ragzlin….Dror Ragzlin….” Volo tries his best, but he eventually trails off pathetically. A goblin chucks a cup at him, splashing Volo with the dregs of stale ale.
“If you aren’t gonna perform, you’re goin’ back in tha cage!” The goblin yells. Volo withers before her.
“Of course, ma’am,” he grovels. She shoves him harshly off the stage, much to the delight of the crowd.
“We have to help him!” Tav whispers to their group. Astarion, Shadowheart, and Lae’Zel all share a look.
“We are not here for the annoying wizard. We are here for the druid, as you said,” Lae’Zel reminds her firmly.
“It’s true, I did say that. But, we will almost certainly have to fight to free him! Won’t that be fun?” Tav says. Lae’Zel considers this.
“I do not fight for ‘fun.’ I fight to win. I fight for the honor and glory of Vlaakith,” she announces.
“Tav, this is Volo you are talking about,” Shadowheart complains.
“The Volo. Maybe if we save him he will put us in his next book!”
“That’s precisely what I am afraid of,” Astarion says.
“But then we’ll be famous!” Tav smiles sweetly up at him.
“Make us rich and famous and then you have a deal,” Astarion counters.
“Lady of Sorrows, will you two stop flirting with each other? I don’t know if any of you have noticed, but this hellhole is a temple to Selûne,” Shadowheart spits out the name with vitriol. “Even if it’s appropriately defiled, l don’t want to be in a temple of the Moon Witch for longer than I have to be,” Shadowheart whines. Tav looks away shyly, chastened. But when the cleric turns away, Tav looks at him and pulls a face behind Shadowheart’s back. Astarion stifles a smirk.
Something between them is changing, which is perhaps why it feels off to him. They have always shared banter, but it seems as though she’s actively trying to make him laugh now. And if he makes a joke, he can depend on Tav to laugh, even in a wry sort of way. It’s flirtatious, but it’s fun.
Fun. Perhaps he should chase that feeling. After the revelation that there may be more to his scars than he knows, a little fun with his lover at the expense of some goblins sounds like just what he needs.
Lover. The word sounds so serious. And yet it isn’t. Not really. It could mean a lot of things.
As they walk, Astarion takes in more of their surroundings. They seem to be in a courtyard, which has been hastily transformed into a feast hall. Meat of some kind roasts on an open spit while goblins fill their tankards from a nearby cauldron of liquor. Merchants haggle with customers while other goblins eat, sing, fight, and make merry in a haze of hedonism.
One voice emerges above the din of the camp, bragging about recent conquests. “Weaker than pixies, humans!” A goblin squawks. A gaggle of his comrades laugh at his harsh words. Even surrounded by admirers, the squat, scarred goblin still catches their group staring. “Wot are you lot doin’ ‘ere? ‘More pests?” he eyes them up and down. “You prolly think you rule the world,” he sneers.
“That’s not true. We don’t think we’re better than anyone,” Tav pipes up. Astarion catches Shadowheart’s eye, then Lae’Zel’s. He doesn’t need the tadpole to know they all firmly disagree with Tav’s assessment.
“Everyone says that, then they spit in our faces,” the goblin snarls. “But no more. Things’re changin’. We got the Absolute on our side.” He gives them an evil look, sizing Tav up. “Ya better learn yer place.” The hairs on the back of Astarion’s neck stand on end as the goblin advances towards them, a look of pure hatred and disdain on his face.
Cazador has given him that look many times, right before he made Astarion do something particularly ghastly.
“Go on. Kiss my foot,” He points to the ground, wiggling his toes. “Or I’ll wipe that nasty look right off yer pretty face.”
“End him or leave him. But do not grovel to this slug,” Lae’Zel says firmly.
“Just kiss the damn foot. Worse things have been shoved in your face lately.” Shadowheart is speaking to Tav, but she is looking pointedly at Astarion. Predictably, it seems the others noticed their rendezvous. He gives Shadowheart a quick, saucy wink. She scoffs but fails to completely conceal her smirk of amusement.
Astarion can see that the goblin is growing impatient. “Well, go on. Give him a nibble,” Astarion urges. It’s horrid work, but it’s one kiss and then she’ll be done. It will be easy and then they can be on their way. Tav looks at him with surprise. He raises an eyebrow.
“I’m waiting, princess” the goblin jeers. Tav rounds on him with a withering glare.“How about you kiss my foot, before I knock that smug look off your face,” Tav says. At the first hint of pushback, the goblin quickly changes his tune.
“Look mate, piss off! Yer not welcome ‘ere,” the cretin says, puffing up his chest.” Tav plants her foot in front of him.
“Kiss my foot. Now,” she orders, in a tone that demands obedience. Fear flickers across the goblin’s face as the crowd falls completely silent. Tav points down to her foot and a little thrill passes through Astarion as he watches the goblin sink to his knees. He places a surprisingly delicate kiss across the worn leather of Tav’s boot.
“There, I done it,” he says, rising back to his feet.
Tav gives him a final once over as she turns away.
“Good,” Lae’Zel says approvingly. The crowd parts for them as they leave.
“Arrogant swine,” the goblin mutters after her, but Tav pays him no mind.
“Aren’t you the domineering tyrant,” Shadowheart teases.
“Only when I’m pushed,” Tav laughs. “I’m not wearing poop and I’m not kissing goblin feet,” she promises.
Astarion will do what he has to do to survive and he doesn’t begrudge others who do the same, but there’s just something about a person who refuses to be pushed around. Who wields power unapologetically. Astarion snakes his hand around her waist, pulling her close. “You continue to delight and surprise me, darling,” he whispers in her ear. Tav shudders against him and he gives her hip a quick squeeze, releasing her as he playfully retreats out of reach. Shadowheart coughs loudly.
“Lady of Sorrow guide us,” she prays pointedly. Her prayer is interrupted by a hoot of terror as a small, bedraggled clump of feathers darts past them and into a crowd of goblins, which parts for it as it scampers away. “What are they doing to that poor creature?” Shadowheart cries.
Astarion leans against a stone wall as Tav barges over, inserting herself into whatever that business is. He watches as she crouches down to speak softly to the frightened owlbear cub. Something has definitely shifted between them.
Funny. Clever. Cunning. Ambitious. Fierce.
“It’s no use,” Tav says, returning. “I gave the cub my scent, but it can’t escape so long as the goblins have it trapped.”
“Well, then it sounds like we have some killing to do,” Astarion says. Lae’Zel grunts approvingly.
“I certainly wouldn’t mind killing some goblins to help that sweet cub,” Shadowheart agrees.
“Same here. But let’s try to find Halsin first. Once we’ve freed him, we can grab the owlbear on the way out.”
“We can still have some fun in the meantime though,” Astartion suggests.
“What did you have in mind?” Tav asks. He opens his pack and flashes a bottle of Wyvern toxin at them. “We can cull some of the horde as we go. Watch this,” he grins toothily before swaggering away towards the vat of suspicious booze he had noticed earlier. He thumbs the cap of poison, concealing the flask in his sleeve. He loiters for a bit, watching as goblins meander past. He grabs a nearby discarded cup off of a table, covertly pouring the poison inside. He walks over to the punch bowl, pantomiming filling his cup as he slips the poison into the dubious punch. He takes a few fake sips from his glass as he walks back to the group.
“Battle is more honorable. But I suppose this is efficient,” Lae’Zel remarks.
“That’s absolutely terrible” Tav admonishes. Astarion frowns in surprise, but Tav quickly drops the act. “I love it,” she says, smiling.
“Now, let’s go, before they catch wise,” Astarion snickers, smiling back. The group beelines for the heavy doors to the temple, putting as much space between themselves and their crime as possible.
“What will your evil little mind think of next?” Shadowheart says as they disappear deeper into danger.
~
Chapter 12: Penance
#astarion#astarion x tav#astarion fanfic#astarion longfic#a taste of plums#astarion is bad at feelings#astarion x reader#the night shift#the goblin camp bg3#astarion ancunin#baldur's gate 3#baldur's gate 3 fic#astarion fluff#in a dark messed up kinda way
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Acowar Review✨✨ sjm needs to pay for my therapy✨✨
Its not as infuriating as acomaf but its still… bad.
Point 1: the court of ignorance and dumbassery
Lets cut to the chase. why the FUCK didnt feyre read Tamlin and Luciens minds at ANYPOINT while she was doin her hot girl shit of taking the spring court down??? huh sjm??? why is your fmc only powerful when convenient. So much could have been cut down. Acowar was way too long.
The whole destroying of the spring court didnt even make that much sense. Im all for a girlie getting back at the people who wronged her but feyre ended up hurting a lot of innocent people in the process. Feyre even tries to ignore the consequences of her actions. She had to invade peoples minds and manipulate people to get them to turn against tamlin and all this could have been avoided if she read his damn mind and learned he was a double agent. Lucien even hinted towards it
Part One: Princess of Carrion »
Chapter Six
None. It was either go to war with the Night Court and Hybern, or ally with Hybern, let them try to stir up trouble, and then use that alliance to our own advantage further down the road." "What do you mean," I breathed. But Lucien realized what he'd said, and hedged, "We have enemies in every court. Having Hybern's alliance will make them think twice." Liar. Trained, clever liar.
If feyre is supposed to be so smart, and she did pick up on this, why didnt she do anything? This is so frustrating.
Then once she leaves the spring court i found myself frankly not caring. Acomaf hadnt given me enough to care about the inner circle so i didnt and sjm cant make me like rhysand. which i have so many gripes but for word counts sake let me name my main ones
Point 2: Sarah Janet Maas and her shitty love interests
the ignoring rhysand sexual assault of feyre and EXCUSING it and his little habit of not telling his court things
Part Two: Cursebreaker »
Chapter Twelve
Was it going on before you even left?" I whipped my head to him, even if I could barely make out his features in the dark. "I never touched Rhysand like that until months later." "You kissed Under the Mountain." "I had as little choice in that as I did in the dancing." "And yet this is the male you now love." He didn't know-he had no inkling of the personal history, the secrets, that had opened my heart to the High Lord of the Night Court. They were not my stories to tell
here we have sjm acknowledging that yeah, rhysand Sexually Assaulted Feyre UtM in Acotar. Without her consent he dressed her inappropriately (which she was uncomfortable with) had her dance provocatively in his lap, kissed her, and made her drink alcohol so she wouldn't remember the details all without her consent. Yet Sjm is going “its fine” now and feyre herself going “you just dont get it…” ⁉️⁉️⁉️
Now see if sjm actually planned for rhysand to become the love interest why didnt she just avoid all this by having Amarantha make rhysand do this to feyre? Because that would have solved some issues but no. Because Rhysand did all this of his own free will in acotar. He actively chose to do this to feyre. To humiliate her and anger Tamlin because rhysand is obsessed with Tamlin.
Rhysand also loves to not tell his own court things. I was and still am very angry over him not telling Mor, Azriel, Cassien and at the very least his Wife about his plan with the court of nightmares. Just why.
Mors anger towards Nesta also makes no sense. sjm stop writing girl on girl hate challenge impossible
Point three: That one toy story scene “I dont wanna play with you anymore!”
Now tamlin. Tamlin tamlin tamlin im so sorry love for what sjm has done to you. If i start ill never stop. What Tamlin said to feyre and rhysand at the high lords meeting was out of pocket but he also wasnt wrong about some things. Also from established character these actions make no sense and his actions havent made sense since acomaf because sjm threw him and his character away to play with shadow daddy and bad morals. But she also cant commit to making a character of hers actually evil so tamlin saves the whole day by bringing the autumn court to fight and saving rhysand life. Tamlin has redeemed himself by sjm standards but she then wrote the holiday novel which i have read and detested.
Overall the plot was fine. i guess. it probably looked better when compared to the characters.
Sjm learn to redeem characters outside of “ooh they were abused and have trauma so everything they do is okay” for guys and “she fell in love/had sex with the most PERFECT MALE TO EVER MASCULINE.” its boring and flat. Also i know what happens in Acosf (i will not be reading that ty) so wtf happened to Nesta bro. she got the tamlin treatment. boooo 👎
to end off heres some of my favorite highlights from acowar 50%+ thru the book.
#a court of wings and ruin#anti acowar#anti sjm#sjm critical#anti rhysand#anti feysand#tamlin#pro tamlin#This book was bullshit
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quelle jolie chose (marquis de gramont x reader)
WARNINGS: mentions of bodily harm, violence, intimidation, humiliation
summary: as the new owner of The Continental in Moscow, you should've known better before helping John Wick escape Russia-- what will the Marquis do when he finds out you've been in contact with the excommunicado he's been after all along?
word count: 1,714
a/n: this is chapter one of a quite long Marquis fic i'm writing, so don't you worry... there's much more to come!!! and there are some french words here and there, i am NOT french lol so do correct me if i'm wrong, and there is a vocab at the end!! enjoy<33333
I hadn't planned on facilitating John Wick's escape from The Moscow Continental-- nothing was going as planned, these days. That was truly dawning on me as the Marquis' guards gripped me harder, forcing me down on my knees in front of him as I glared up at the statuesque man before me.
I was well-versed in the rules of the High Table, having grown up in the order. It was only recently that I had taken over the hotel, almost immediately after my father's untimely death. I had suddenly found myself at the center of the operation I had watched from afar my whole life, and had the truth about my father's work unveiled to me during a time when I should've been mourning him. It had been terribly hard, but I had gotten myself together for the sake of the hotel. For the sake of my life, my family, and our legacy.
However, nothing had been more important than the debt I owed John Wick. Funnily enough, that was exactly what had gotten me into this situation.
"You should've known better than to succumb to such foolishness," The Marquis took another step towards me, his eerily green eyes drilling into me with intimidation unlike anything I had ever seen before. "We know your father was weak when it came to Mr. Wick, but you? That you would be helping an excommunicado evade us? That was certainly unexpected from the newly instated owner of The Moscow Continental."
I hated that this was happening in my penthouse. Had I stayed at the hotel tonight to tend to business, I would've at least been sure he wouldn't kill me. The grip the guards had on me, the force in which my knees were being pressed against my newly polished wooden floors, nearly had me wincing-- but there was no way in hell I'd show him how scared I was. My gaze only hardened, trying to wry myself out of the strong hands holding me down; "I don't know what the fuck you're talking about!"
Letting out an exasperated sigh, the Marquis rolled his eyes. It was almost as though he was bored with me. "We have it all on video," he grumbled, unimpressed with my attempts of denial. "Him at the hotel, him in one of your cars, and videos from the shootout at Sheremetyevo airport. It seems you're good with a gun, miss... Actually, it's probably good to find out whether you have one on you right now." With a wave of his hand, the guard next to him stepped toward me, and it didn't take long before I was pressed face-down to the floor as I yelled out in protest.
With tears pressing upon my eyes, I could only curse as they managed to find the knife in my boot and continued to search me-- my eyes widened when they moved up my thighs, finding the gun I had stuffed down the side of my hip before having gotten dragged into this room, ambushed in my own home. I let out another yell, kicking with the best of my abilities, as my pants were dragged down my thighs and my hands were held tightly at my back.
I heard a hum coming from the Marquis, who had stepped away to make himself a cup of tea by the table I had set up a few weeks ago. Everything about his nonchalance angered me further-- I couldn't believe this was happening to me in the room I had set up to focus on the one thing that gave me a sense of purpose and peace; my paintings. They were hung up on the tall walls, and I caught a glimpse of Vincent admiring the one to his left.
My head pounded with fear, not used to this sort of humiliation. These feelings were new-- I knew I was the only one who could save me now that John Wick was out of the country. I looked away, pressing my forehead against the floor, still fighting my captivity.
I didn't need to look at the well-dressed Marquis to know that he was watching the whole ordeal play out before him. Then again, I didn't know a single man who wouldn't watch a woman get undressed, unwanted or not. So there I was, splayed out on the floor of my atelier, the cold winter air of my penthouse hitting my bare thighs with my red panties on display. I wanted to cry, embarrassed beyond belief about being in my underwear in front of all of these men, but also scared like never before-- would they take it further than this? Would this be the moment where what I had dreaded all my life was about to happen?
Thankfully, my pants were quickly put on, but my favorite gun was confiscated. My cheeks were still bright red, remnants of tears pooling in my eyes as I was propped back up on my knees. "Aren't you supposed to be of nobility?" I asked, speaking through gritted teeth as my head hung between my shoulders in shame. "Did no one teach you to treat ladies with respect?" I couldn't remember a time when any other member of the order had been strip-searched-- sexist fucker.
The Marquis let out a short chuckle, the arrogance evident even in his laugh. "What makes you believe you deserve my respect after helping John Wick? You're quite rightfully on your knees now, and hopefully, you'll start begging for your life soon. For your own sake, of course,"
"I would rather carve out my own eyes than beg you for anything," I said, a low growl building in my throat along with my anger. "And you know that you need me alive. The whole of Russia will go to war against you if you kill me, and you can count on Bratva and Rusko Roma to avenge me!"
It didn't take long for the Marquis to change his mood once more-- his pompous sneer disappeared off his face with one twitch of his eye, and within the snap of a second, he threw the cup of tea across the room, shattering the glass against the wall with a crushing sound that echoed through the halls. "You will obey!" he yelled, coming towards me with loud, booming steps. Blinded by anger, he crouched down to grab my face in his hand, his grip on my cheeks making me wince. "It doesn't matter to me who your father was or how important you think you are, because you work for me!"
"And that is where you're wrong," I continued to struggle around the grip his guards had on me, wanting nothing more than to be freed and strike him right across the face. However, a sense of calm washed over me when I realized he wasn't here to kill me-- he couldn't. "I don't work for you. I work for the High Table. You're simply a code in the software, and right now you're pissing off the highest-ranking official in the biggest country in the world. Are you trying to wage a war on Russia, Vincent?"
The mention of his first name had him squeezing my face even harder in his large, rough hands. But this time, I didn't react-- I simply stared back at him, watching the way his pupils shrunk as he focused on me like I was prey. Up close, I could see the deep scar on his cheek, the way his lips pursed with anger, and it suddenly dawned on me that he smelled like a mix of tobacco, amber, and leather. Very manly, very expensive; enticing.
"War," he echoed, another twitch of his eye ensuing. "Pas de souci. That is not what I want. But what I do want, however..." The Marquis let go of my face, getting up from the ground. "I want John Wick dead, along with his allies. And since I can't kill you yet, it seems I have to make use of your friendship with the excommunicado." With another wave of his hand, the guards let me go-- I pressed my palms against the floor in relief, letting in a shaky heave of air.
I looked up at him through my brows, feeling my anger pulsing through my veins. "He's long gone, Vincent. He's not coming back to Russia,"
The Marquis hummed; "Get him back, then,"
"He won't--"
"Do it, or I'll put your mother's head on a spike!" His voice boomed through the room, leaving behind an echo that made me want to wince once more. "If he's not here within a week, I will have you bound and forced to watch me rip her limbs apart!"
My lips parted in shock, feeling as though my body had frozen over. Everything about his threat made me terrified out of my mind-- I couldn't risk it. I knew that the Marquis was dangerous and that he could easily follow through with his words; I needed to get myself together, for the sake of my family. It took a lot of power for me to get up from the ground, balling my fists as I met his threatening gaze. I watched as he stood before me, clad in a ridiculously expensive grey-ish suit, visibly ready for any fight I might want to put up.
I wasn't stupid-- I realized I was surrounded by his guards with no other choice than to obey. I didn't even have my gun anymore, nor did I have my trusted bodyguard; I wondered whether his body still lay lifeless in the hallway, bleeding out all over my new carpet.
I was cornered, and I knew it. Which is why I got down on one knee and put my hand over my heart, accepting my reality; "I will be of service,"
The Marquis snickered at my pledge, clearly pleased. He tilted his head to the side, his eyes rounding out in victory at the sight of me willingly kneeling. "Quelle jolie chose," he breathed, nodding to himself. "Good. Very, very good."
I wanted nothing more than to shoot a hole through his face. I couldn't wait for the day I'd get that opportunity.
vocabulary:
pas de souci: no worries
quelle jolie chose: what a pretty thing
#marquis de gramont#vincent de gramont#marquis vincent de gramont#marquis x reader#marquis de gramont x reader#vincent de gramont x reader#marquis vincent de gramont x reader#john wick chapter 4#female reader#reader insert#bill skarsgård#ok i have gone mental#wickblr
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Haechan x fem!reader (ft Nomin as Haechan’s best friends)
Warnings// stepcest, noncon, unprotected sex, reader is a BITCH, nomin are pervy, haechan fucks some sense into reader, humiliation of reader by being recorded, video shown to others
Don’t like it, don’t read. You are responsible for reading any further!!
Not proofread
Haechan knew what he wanted, and that was you. It frustrated him every time he would overhear you talking about another guy.
But something else that really frustrated him was the way you treated him. All of those times where you shot a dirty look his way, all of the shit talking you did to your friends, all of the insults that came out of your mouth. All it did was frustrate him.
Anytime his friends would come over they would only dwell in how hot you were and the slutty clothes you wore around them and specially them… short shorts and a tank top that showed so much cleavage it was surprising you’ve never had a nip slip before.
Haechan hates to think about how many times hes has his hand wrapped around his hard cock thinking of you. But he knew it was wrong. For fucks sake, you’re his stepsister. However, it was justified to an extent. I mean you guys have known each other for a while, but not as stepsiblings but as classmates. You have a history of strong hate for each other.
“You don’t realize how lucky you are to have a girl like that living in the same house as you Haechan”
The words slipped from his friends mouth. His friends name was Jaemin. Na Jaemin. The amount of times he’s checked out your boobs is uncountable. He’s also a huge perv and never fails to make comments on your appearance when talking about you.
Jeno nods his head in agreement.
The “He’s right Hae, the only thing she needs is an attitude change. She’s seriously the bitchiest girl I’ve ever met. Out of everyone who’s been inside of her.. none of them have had a good enough dick to shut her up??”
Jeno spews.
“You guys are fucking gross, shes my fucking stepsister.”
Haechan acts disgusted but it’s all he ever thinks about. His tongue lapping your clit while his hands cover your mouth so that you don’t disturb the neighbors.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jeno and Jaemin are well gone and have been for a few hours. You sit in your room on your phone scrolling through tiktok. You soon get out of your bed to stroll down to the kitchen for a glass of water.
Of course when you get there you see Haechan sitting on the couch, doing the same thing you just were. He looks up at you and you sarcastically wave back at his blank stare.
“I don’t appreciate the way you act y/n. You walk around acting like you’re the shit when all you do is let yourself get used by the desperate man whores that walk around this small area.”
You look up at him with a look of complete and utter shock. How could he talk to you like that? Who does he think he is?
“Who the hell are you talking to like that?”
The words come out of your mouth as he rises from his spot on the couch. He walks fast towards you and you feel your heart start to sink. He never does anything about your attitude so what is this all of a suddenness??
Haechan soon makes his way into the kitchen. He wraps his hand around your throat and squeezes slightly.
“This attitude better fucking come to an end or ill end it myself”
You soon push him off of you and he gives a look of disbelief. How dare you put your hands on him??
“Thats it y/n”
Before you even get a chance to open your mouth, he pulls you by your arm into his room. He checks the time.
12:17 AM
Haechan pushes you onto his bed and starts to unbuckle his belt. You’re confused. What the hell is going on??
“You better stay the fuck quiet y/n. Better not hear a single word slip out of your mouth.”
All confusion leaves your body as soon as he uses his belt to wrap your hands in. He’s using it as a restraint… and a good one at that.
He soon pulls out his phone and hits record in one hand as he’s ripping your spandex-like shorts off with the other. You whine and kick and cry out as he strips you naked. The phone makes it a million times worse.
“Say hi to jaemin and jeno !”
You hide your face as Haechan gets more frustrated. You feel a burn tingle in your cheek. He just slapped you. What has gotten into him??
Right as you’re thinking about how to stop him, he pulls his hard dick out of his pants and aligns it with your sopping pussy.
With no warning he pushes in and you scream out.
“Tears running down your pretty face makes me more horny baby”
You cry out more. How could he do this to you?
Haechan thrusts harder while still recording.
#haechan x reader#tw//noncon#stepbro!haechan#haechan x fem!reader#trying something new lol#nct dream x you#haechan x you#haechan x reader smut
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Sweet Flame - Heat x Reader
Picture I got from Pinterest - it's a screencap from One Piece
Summary: Heat’s partner (you) gets separated from the Crew when Kaido lands on the island holding the Kid Pirates Hideout.
Word Count: 1,694
Details: Set in Wano Country Arc. Kid and Heat may be OOC but idc lol. Established relationship. Just a sweet little fic about Heat and his sweet partner. Tried to keep it as GN as possible, if I missed something let me know and I will fix it! I've never written Heat before, hopefully I wrote him well!
Also posted on AO3
Floral Banner and Support your Creaters banner from @saradika
You weren’t with the Kid pirates very long when you had encountered the King of the Beasts. When Kaido landed on the island where the Kid Pirates Hideout was, it was discovered that Apoo was already aligned with Kaido. You had been standing with Emma and House at the time, on the right side of the hole created by Kaido’s fall when Kaido locked eyes on me and reached his arm toward me, grabbed me and brought me closer to his face.
“Well, aren’t you a pretty little thing?” He said with a malicious grin.I struggled against within his hold and could vaguely hear the Kid Pirates shouting for Kaido to let me down but my ears were focused on Heat yelling out for me. Kaido brought me closer to his face and I could smell the Sake on his breath.
“I’m going to have fun with you.” He said as he squeezed a bit harder, my vision getting darker by the minute.
Getting separated from the rest of your crew was not easy, especially seeing as you weren’t as good a fighter the rest of the crew. By no means were you a bad fighter, but your skills lay more on the medical side of things.
Kaido had you on a leash, figuratively and literally, after you landed on Onigashima you had been forced into a Beast Pirates Costume. The leash hung on the wall, right outside of the cell that was dug out of a rock wall facing a chair that the King of the Beasts often sat on while getting drunk. You weren’t completely alone, your captain being in the cell with you.
Every once and a while, when the Beast Pirates had a party, you would be dragged out of the cell by your leash and paraded around with Kaido, usually attached to the arm of his chair or trailing behind him with the extra long leash hooked onto his belt. They would take the leash off and throw you into the cell, more often than not throwing you into your captain, who would break your fall.
It was truly humiliating and every time you were brought back into the cell room you would see your captain’s look of pity before the expression shifted to a glare staring at whatever lackey brought you back into the room. It still shocked me to this day, as a newer member of the Kid Pirates, how protective Kid and the Commanders were of the female crew members. For the most part, they saw all of you as little sisters, the exception being Heat and myself. Of all the commanders, I saw Kid as the brother I never had.
“If I had my powers, those bastards would be dead.” Kid grumbles quietly, shaking his wrist, seastone cuff clanking in the quiet dungeon. I huddled inside of his coat, the Beast Pirate Costume not keeping me warm whatsoever. He sighed and pulled me in closer.
“I swear, I will get us out of here and get you back to Heat.” I nodded and drifted off to sleep against his arm.
I was woken up harshly, with screaming and rustling surrounding me. I looked up from the ground, eyes still bleary from sleep, to see some of the Beast Pirates dragging Kid out forcefully. I stood up quickly, making to rush towards him when two more members stood in front of me, blocking my path.
“You can’t go where he’s going Kaido's pet.” Beast Pirate #1 sneered out at me before backing out of the cell and slamming the door shut.
“I’ll be back for you!” Kid shouted from across the room.
“So stay alive until we get back, you got that punk?” Tears began running down my face, clouding my eyes further. I fell down to my knees, hunched over and tears spilling on the rocky floor. I was truly alone now.
Time Skip to the Raid on Onigashima
It had been a hellish few weeks since Kid had been dragged out of the cell you shared. From overhearing conversations between the Beast Pirates is that Kid was brought to Udon prison and had since broken out. They also spoke of a Raid meant to happen tonight on an attempt on Kaido and Orochi’s life, but from the sounds of it they found out, ruining their plans.
Since it was the night of the Fire Festival, I was once again out on display, being made to kneel in front of Kaido’s chair, currently with all of the Tobiroppo all standing in front of me. Black Maria occasionally would lean down and coo at how ‘Sweet’ I was, asking Kaido if she could ‘keep me’. I shivered and kept my eyes staring forward. Her fake sweetness making my skin crawl.
I tried not to pay attention to the conversation, not particularly interested in the whereabouts of Kaido’s son until I heard my name being mentioned. I noticed that the Tobi Roppi were gone, all that was left in the room was myself, Kaido, King, Jack and Queen.
“Did you hear that pet?” Kaido leaned down closer to me, the stench of alcohol filling my senses.
“I’m going to make my son the new Shogun of Wano, and you his pet.” He said with an evil grin as I looked up at him in shock. My blood went cold, where was Heat, where was Kid, the rest of my crew. I quickly looked back down to the ground, eyes clouding up with tears once again, tears I could not let fall.
Heat’s POV
“Where did you say they might be?” I asked Kid while we were running through the banquet hall, now thrown into chaos thanks to the strawhats. Kid turned towards me, fist curled
“They're either in the dungeon or they are leashed up being paraded around by that bastard.” I turned towards my captain once more.
“Paraded around?” Kid nodded.
“That sick fuck has them on a leash and in one of those damn costumes.” My eye twitched slightly, and I moved my head looking around for that asshole as Kid continued.
“Because it’s a big gathering, they are likely hooked onto the arm of his chair, or if he’s walking around they are attached to his belt trailing behind him.” Kid glared ahead of him.
“They always brought them back and just tossed them into the cell, never gave them anything but that damn costume to wear. Thankfully they didn’t take my coat away, kept her warm enough but I don’t know what happened to her after I was taken away to Udon prison.” He looked at me.
“I told her to stay alive, that we’d be back for her.” I nodded at Kid.
Reader’s POV
I was left alone in the room where Kaido sat when a green haired man rushed into the room. I stared in shock as he processed what was in front of him.
“You OK?” I stared at him wide-eyed and shook my head.
“Are you one of them?” He asked, pointing at the logo on my costume. I shook my head again.
“Do you need me to get rid of that for you?” He asked, pointing towards my collar, which I nodded quickly at.
“Please.” I whispered. He unsheathed one of his swords and lined it up with the leash attached to my collar. I pulled it tight, trying to get as far away from the sword as I could. I felt the pressure slack as he sliced through the metal cord. I sighed in relief at being able to move around freely. I stood up and stretched my legs. The green-haired man turned to walk away before he stopped and turned back to me.
“Do you know where the Banquet Hall is?” I blinked at him and nodded, getting in front of him to lead him down the path I walked many times. As we ran towards the hall in silence, I decided to risk a question.
“Are the Kid Pirates here?” I whispered, almost scared of his answer.
“Jaggy’s crew? Yeah.” He muttered. I smiled and kept silent for the rest of the run.
As we were almost to the Banquet Hall I noticed a fight happening ahead of us with a familiar head of light blue hair. I let out a cheer, alerting the man running beside me.
“HEAT” I yelled out, I watched him turn around quickly, interrupting his conversation with the warlord Jimbe. His mouth stretched into a large smile.
“Flame!” He let out in a breathy whisper. He began running towards me, arms opening as he got closer. I jumped up and encircled my arms around his neck as he lifted me up, hands under my thighs and encouraged me to wrap my legs around his waist which I did. I nuzzled into the side of his neck and hugged him tighter. He pulled away from the hug and looked me over.
“You OK? He didn’t hurt you too bad did he?” I shook my head as he let me back down on the floor. The green-haired man from before came up behind us, drawing Heat’s attention away from me for a second. His eyes narrowed at him and he tensed up, his grip on my waist getting tighter. I placed my hand on his chest, just above his heart, his eyes shifted back down to me.
“He cut my chains off. I was showing him to the Banquet Hall.” The tension Heat had in his shoulders visibly lightened and he turned to the man once more.
“Thanks man.” The green haired man grunted in response.
“What way is the Banquet Hall?” He addressed me. I pointed to the left.
“Down that hall, you can’t miss it.” He nodded and left quickly. I looked back up at Heat and hugged him once more. Heat’s hand came up and cupped my chin.
“Stay with me, my Sweet Flame, don’t want to lose you again.” He mumbled before placing a soft kiss on my lips. I smiled into the kiss and laced my hands with his.
“I’m not going anywhere.” I squeezed his hand tighter.
“I promise.”
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Warming the ice (Bi-Han and Tomas MK1 fic)
(MK1 childhood Lin Kuei trio - Bi-Han and Tomas)
Summary - Bi-Han feels isolated. Alone. Unloved. Little toddler Tomas can't have his brother feeling that way, and steps in to try and help.
(Hurt/comfort/brotherly love) (~3000 words)
Will eventually be up on my AO3 once the rest of the chapter is complete and I'm satisfied with it all - We are family. - Tsukuyomi_Ravioli - Mortal Kombat - All Media Types [Archive of Our Own]
Enjoy!
.
“You cannot keep acting like a child.”
Bi-Han lowered his gaze to the pebbled ground beneath him, trying desperately to swallow the bitterness rising in his throat.
“You must be stronger. Smarter. You cannot afford to keep showing these weaknesses of yours, Bi-Han. The Lin Kuei depends on you.”
“I’m sorry.” Ice was forming on the tips of his shoes. A new development of his cryomancer abilities, if he had to guess. It would have intrigued him, had it been at any other moment in time. Now, it only aided to further humiliate him. A physical manifestation of these weaknesses of his. “It won’t happen again.”
“Yet it continues to, despite our discussions.”
“I know.” His head dipped lower, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip. Rough, sharp canines cut easily through the plump flesh. His tongue tasted copper. “I will better myself.” He bit out, “I will. For the clan. For Earthrealm.”
“It doesn’t look it, Bi-Han.”
Sometimes, Bi-Han felt lonely.
It was a stupid, childish feeling. One he knew he shouldn’t have- shouldn’t even consider at all, really- because how could he be lonely, surrounded as he was by the Lin Kuei? By his family? By the bustling life of the temple and its nearby surrounding villages?
He wasn’t some isolated outcast, shunned and forgotten by society. He interacted with people every day. He studied with his masters, sparred with the other students, listened to his elders- he was one of the sons of the Grandmaster, for the gods' sake. People knew him. Took advice from him. Respected him. Feared him.
And still, here it lay, deep beneath the surface. That gnawing, hungry emptiness he couldn’t quite shake, no matter how hard he tried- and believe him. He tried.
A silent killer- it crept in during the quiet moments. Moments where he was supposed to be relaxing, away from his life as the Grandmaster’s heir. Moments where he was supposed to be happy, living as the boy he was, not as the man he was expected to become. Where peace and joy were supposed to overtake everything in his soul.
When the echoes of his footsteps, and the whispers of his breath were the only sounds of the night. When the only noises were the whistles of the wind, and his fingers flitting through the pages of his books. When he meditated, when he ate, when he lay down to sleep. That’s when it would sneak in. It always knew exactly where to find him, to hurt him most. Wrapping itself tight around his heart, turning the featherlight moment into something suffocating and heavy.
“You’ll always be different. You’ll never fit in.”
“No one could ever love you, you know.”
It gnawed at him, quiet and persistent, gently unravelling the threads of his calm until all he could feel was frustration and doubt. Where he could no longer meditate, or read. Where he could no longer stand the silence that he would crave at any other time in his hectic life.
He didn’t understand it- this inexplicable sense of isolation that lingered even when he was surrounded by his clan. It made no sense. He wasn’t alone, so why did he feel like he was? Why did he feel so distant, so disconnected from everyone around him?
“You will never belong.”
Maybe this was one of his weaknesses. The ones his master spoke of, constantly chided him about. Maybe this feeling inside of him was proof of his failure to overcome. Proof he wasn’t as ready to fulfil his destiny. Proof he was not as ready as he thought he was.
“You’ll never be ready. You’ll never be enough.”
The thoughts twisted in his mind, feeding the guilt that already festered deep inside. He was supposed to be better than this- stronger, colder, unfeeling- unyielding like the ice he so graciously commanded. He was supposed to be the future protector of Earthrealm, the future leader of the Lin Kuei, the future Grandmaster himself. But instead, he felt adrift. Lost in a sea of emotions. Emotions he should. Not. Be. Feeling.
Something soft and wet landed on the skin of his hand, startling him out of his own head.
He blinked, gaze darting downwards to look at the watery droplet on his hand, and then upwards at the sky high above him. It wasn’t raining. The night’s clouds were sparse- even the few he did see were light and wispy, not dark and heavy with… Oh.
He scrubbed a hand over his damp face with a shaky huff, breathing thickly into his palm. Weak. Weak, weak, weak.
“A Grandmaster does not weep, Bi-Han. He does not shed tears. He is the foundation of his clan, the stones upon which his people walk.”
He shakily exhaled, hunching his shoulders as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. He’d never be good enough. He’d never feel content. He’d never feel happy. He’d never feel loved. He’d never-
“Bi-Han?”
A voice startled him from the storm raging inside his mind. It was quiet, muffled, almost overshadowed by the wind. Any normal person wouldn’t have even heard such a small mutter of a noise.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a small figure standing at the edges of the courtyard, watching him. Their little hands wrang nervously against one another, ghostly pale eyes peeking out curiously at him from behind wisps of grey, smoke-curled hair.
Tomas.
Panic and shame surged through Bi-Han. How long had he been standing there? How much had he seen?
He quickly straightened, hastily scrubbing a hand across his face as he went, praying it erased any lingering traces of his vulnerability. Tomas couldn’t see him like this. He couldn’t allow him to witness his failures. What kind of older brother would he be if he did that?
Tomas knew him as a brave, fearless warrior, he couldn’t see him as a scared, weeping child. Tomas looked up to him- relied on him. Needed him to be strong. Tomas depended on him to be a protector, a warrior of unyielding ice, the Grandmaster he was destined to become.
The whole world did, really. Whether they knew it or not.
“Tomas.” He called out to the boy. His voice was rough and scratchy, edged with an iciness that he hoped sounded commanding. He inhaled once more, forcing his shoulders back, attempting to regain his lost composure. “What are you doing out here?”
Tomas wasn’t allowed in the training yard, by orders of their mother. That much Bi-Han knew- and while technically, Tomas wasn’t in the courtyard, the little boy standing just on its outskirts, his small face peering in past the entrance archway, it was good enough. It gave him something to focus on rather than the uncomfortable coiling in his gut.
The child didn’t respond right away. Instead, his gaze dropped to the ground, clearly eyeing the fine-line between outside and inside the yard. His tiny teeth gnawed at his bottom lip, awkwardly shuffling from one foot to the other. He looked so small, so… innocent.
Bi-Han briefly wondered if that was what he himself looked like, when the elders scolded him.
“I just… uhm.” Tomas’ voice was still whispered, still that timid, uncertain tone. “I saw you sitting all by yourself.” The wind ruffled his grey curls, the hair swirling like smoke from a fire. “You looked… sad.”
Bi-Han’s heart tightened uncomfortably in his chest. He forced himself to remain stern, to keep his voice steady. This little interaction would be over soon, and then he could go back to… whatever he was doing before this. “You should be inside.” He started, “It’s late. Shouldn’t you be in bed?”
Usually, Tomas would take that as his cue to dart away, lest he faces his eldest brother’s infamous icy lectures. To run right for his room and right to bed, as suggested. But Tomas didn’t move- at least, not to leave he didn’t.
Instead, he took a step forward. Into the training yard.
“Tomas.” Bi-Han warned, voice low.
Tomas took another step. Then another. Then another- his bright pale eyes never leaving Bi-Han’s own dull brown ones. Small, milky-white teeth still worried the skin of his bottom lip, his tiny hands playing with the dulled, yellow seams of his hand-me-down jumper. This was unusual of the kid- Tomas never defied any rules set for him, even the ones that Bi-Han himself deemed silly and pointless. He found himself silent, watching him wander closer, and closer, until the boy was mere metres away from him.
“Are you…” The seams of Kuai’s old jumper were falling off in little chunks, now, torn away by fumbling little fingers. “Are you… okay?”
Bi-Han almost outright flinched at the question.
His mouth instantly opened, ready to scold, to fight- to push Tomas away. To protect his image, to reverse whatever memory Tomas now had seared in his mind of his elder brother, weak and crying right in front of him.
But nothing came.
He couldn’t do it.
Something in Tomas’ gaze- the sincere, too-real understanding. The ghostly eyes filled with concern- it made him hesitate. The harsh words he wanted to say, willed himself to say, never came. The words intended to scare the child away from ever attempting this again couldn’t form. His cold tongue turned soft.
Tomas took another shy step toward. His small, soft hand reached out to gently touch Bi-Han’s knee.
“It’s okay.” The little boy whispered. He sounded far too old for the age he really was. “It’s okay to cry. You don’t have to be strong all the time.”
His throat tightened. Those words, such simple, stupid words, and yet- yet it hit him. Hard. Harder than any of his master’s criticisms ever had. Bi-Han’s lower lip was trembling, his vision blurring with those god-forsaken tears again, his so-carefully built walls crumbling easily under the watchful gaze of a mere child.
He didn’t know what to say- how do you respond to something that sincere? That honest and truthful? Such pure, disarming kindness? He wasn’t used to it- he wanted to squirm away, run for the hills and never look back- and yet he didn’t. He found himself just… nodding. A small, almost imperceptible motion, but Tomas caught it. Tomas saw it. Saw him.
A tiny smile tugged at the corners of Tomas’ mouth, a soft, gentle expression that seemed to warm the frigid air around them. A boost of confidence that set the toddler aiming further. Higher.
Without much hesitation, his littlest brother clumsily climbed up onto the bench beside him, his small hand never leaving Bi-Han’s knee, using it instead to boost himself up with a soft oomph until he was safely onboard the wooden contraption, his own knees dangling off the bench’s edge.
Bi-Han watched him with a mixture of surprise and something else he couldn’t quite name. It was unfamiliar. A warm feeling that spread from where Tomas touched him, seeping through his bloodstream to his cold, icy heart.
Hope, maybe? Love?
Tomas settled beside him, shuffling so he was close enough that he could rest his head against Bi-Han’s side, his other hand curling around his arm, clutching on tight. The toddler didn’t say anything else- he didn’t need to. The message was clear.
“I love you.”
“You belong.”
“You’re enough.”
For a long while, they sat like that. The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable, but soothing, and gentle. The heavy weight in Bi-Han’s chest seemed to lessen, just a little. As if Tomas’ presence was enough to shave away some of the thick burden that he carried. He could feel the toddler’s fingers tiredly tracing the swirling gold pattern on the sleeve of his hanfu. Could see his eyes were half-closed, cheek smushed from where it was pressed against him. He really should be in bed by now.
“Tomas.” Bi-Han’s voice was croaky from disuse, though softer, that icy edge from before long gone. “Why exactly were you out here- in the first place? You know you shouldn’t be.”
Tomas lifted his head sleepily, blinking up at Bi-Han with those almost glowing pale eyes. “I saw you from my bedroom window.” He said quietly. “I didn’t want you to be alone.” He snuggled back in, sighing warmly, eyes beginning to close once more, voice drifting into an almost silent murmur. Words that felt like they weren't for Bi-Han’s own ears to hear. “I know what it’s like to be alone.”
Bi-Han’s heart twisted at that. He unravelled his arm from out of Tomas’ grip, instead curling it around the boy himself, drawing him closer, into something that somewhat resembled an embrace. His fingers touched soft, smoky hair. “Thank you.” He murmured, the words thick with emotion, “I… I needed it.”
Tomas smiled up at him again, his face tired, but his eyes shining with joy. He pressed closer, little grey hair tickling Bi-Han’s chin as he wormed his way further into his brother, as if he was attempting to merge their bodies together. Bi-Han simply let him.
“Don’t worry.” The little boy whispered, after a brief moment of silence. “I won’t tell Kuai.”
A small, unexpected smile tugged at the corners of Bi-Han’s own mouth now. “Good.” He found himself replying lightly, nodding. “You know I’d hate to lose my reputation as the cool one.”
Tomas giggled softly, yawning. “You’ll always be the cool one. Kuai’s the fiery one, remember?”
They sat there in silence for a little while longer after that, the quiet evening wrapping around them like a protective cocoon. Bi-Han found himself staring out at the empty courtyard, watching the shadows deepen as the night finally fully set in. Normally, this would be the time where that loneliness crept in. Reared its ugly face at him, reminding him of all his fears. All his doubts and insecurities. But tonight was different. With Tomas here- though asleep as he was now, drooling on the side of his very expensive hanfu- it was different. The silence wasn’t suffocating. It wasn’t debilitating. It was bearable. Enjoyable, almost.
It was no longer an enemy, but the companion it should have always been to him. One that allowed him to breathe, to simply exist as himself. Not as the future protector of Earthrealm- not as the future leader of the Lin Kuei, not as the future Grandmaster, but as Bi-Han.
He could be just Bi-Han today. And that was okay. It was okay because people wanted just Bi-Han. In whatever shape and form he came in- broken or unbroken.
#mk1 sub zero#mk bi han#mk1#mortal kombat lin kuei brothers#mortal kombat fanfiction#ao3#ao3feed#ao3 fanfic#ao3 link#ao3 writer#mortal kombat#tomas vrbada mk1#mk1 tomas vrbada#tomas vrbada#mk1 bi han#bi han sub zero#bi han#scorpion kuai liang#kuai liang scorpion#scorpion mk1#scorpion mk#hurt/comfort#This was a gem to write
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Alone, again.
Mafia!Wanda Maximoff X Reader angst
Brief Mafia!Pietro Maximoff X Reader
Short blurb
Age gap (undisclosed)
I thought the way Pietro treated me was bad, but it was nothing compared to what his sister has done. From him I expect nothing less than selfishness and disloyalty, but her? No. It has been a week since we slept together for the second time and I awoke in her room alone again. I was disappointed and wished that she would have woken me to say goodbye, but I didn’t for a second doubt that we would talk later in the day.
The rose-tinted glasses I have worn since I was old enough to think Wanda Maximoff was a mixture of superhero and goddess, have left me vulnerable to the fact that she is as capable as her brother of using and discarding women. At least Pietro never pretended to be anything different. He told me explicitly that he didn’t love me right before we had sex.
Wanda sucked me in. She gave me a taste of what I have craved for so long. I felt safe with her, protected. My eyes roll every time I think of the warmth I felt when she called me baby or my darlin’. How naive and stupid was I that I thought that meant she cared at all for me? Wherever she has been sleeping this week, she has probably been whispering the same sweet words into another woman’s ear.
My cheeks redden with the humiliation I can’t shake. The feeling that I am pathetic. All I am worth is a political marriage. My mother can’t see me past her self-obsession and my father, he sees me as a pawn in his miniature game of thrones. My half-brother fucking kidnapped me, for goodness sake. The fact remains that the only person who I have ever truly felt loved by is Bucky and he has been lying to me too.
He spends more time with Sam than he does with me now anyway and I feel our special bond slipping away. I’m glad I have Natasha, but our friendship is still new. We bond over work dramas, the gym members who hit on us, and all the normal bullshit. We hang out, but she doesn’t know all the inner workings of my complicated life. The past week I have been a zombie.
I don’t want to speak with anyone. I have stayed at the Maximoff house because being near my parents would only make me more miserable, but I haven’t seen Wanda. I snuck into her room the first night in the wee hours of the morning and she wasn’t there. Her bed was still as I had made it that morning. The second day I text her.
Y/N: Hey? Is everything ok?
But I didn't get a response. That was when I knew that she was avoiding me. There was no alarm in the rest of the family that she was missing or out of touch. It was just me she avoided. Bucky tried to comfort me. He called his cousin all sorts of names and was on my side. But he kept pushing me back towards Pietro. His solution to my heartbreak was for me to throw myself into my sham marriage.
“You’re only saying that because it’s what the Famiglia wants!” I screamed at him. “When did you stop giving a shit about me!”
The guilt on his face told me I was right. He was working toward an agenda, not caring about his oldest friend. Interestingly, Piet has been nice this week. His cheerfulness has been a reprieve from all the angst. He took me out for brunch on the third day and although it was nice, his hand on my lower back as we walked through the cafe felt wrong. He is the only one who seems to get how shit it is to have your life at total mercy to what the Famiglia dictates.
We have bonded over our mutual hatred of the control being exerted over us. Now, it’s six nights since I last saw Wanda and I’ve sent several texts which have all received no response. Miserable, I sneak into her room again. I can’t sleep and pathetically, I think maybe if she still isn’t there, I could just sleep in her bed.
Maybe her scent on her pillows will help me drift off. I pad barefoot down the hallway wearing one of Bucky’s massive t-shirts and slip into Wanda’s room. I pause, allowing my eyes to adjust to the dark room before tip-toeing toward the bed. A dark form lies entangled in the blankets. She is home. She’s here and she didn’t reply to a single text or check I am ok. I want to throw things at her sleeping body. Wake her up with my hurt screams.
But instead, I walk around to the other side of the bed and slip under the covers. I crawl over to her and turn around so my back is to her. I rest my head gently on the bicep of her outstretched arm and she instinctively pulls me in close, curling her body around mine. I loathe how good it feels. My eyes fill with tears and my heart with self-hatred.
“Y/N,” Wanda groans, sleepy and exasperated, a few moments later.
“I hate you,” I reply, my voice thick as I battle the tears threatening to fall.
She is silent for a moment and then sighs. “I know, baby. I hate myself too. Go to sleep.”
And I do. In her arms, I slip into the easiest sleep I have had all week. I know that the morning will bring with it more heartache. She will push me away again. But for now, I feel safe and exactly where I’m meant to be. I wake up before Wanda. She is still wrapped around me, and every fiber of my being cries out for me to burrow deeper into her arms and go back to sleep. Thankfully, I have a tiny bit of self-preservation left, and instead, I gently peel her off me and creep back to my own bed. Sliding into the cold sheets feels like salt in the wounds of the past week, but I do it because I can’t bear the thought of waking alone in her bed again.
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replaceable (part iii)
jacaerys velaryon x reader
part 4
summary: after your twin sister decides to run away weeks from her wedding to the prince and heir to the throne, Jacaerys Velaryon, you are left with no choice but to step in her place.
warnings; violence, gore(?), angst.
taglist: @highexpectationsgurl
@lilithskywalker @her-fandom-sanctum
@lady-ashfade
@m4nd0l0r
@fallingwallsh
@icarusignite
@literishdegree99
@but-i-never-loved-me
@cassiopeia-black-brenda
@hanabbrmpg
@writer-lee5
@sha-aesthic
@powellssaturn
°°°°
Dear sister,
Its been a full week since you've left me with this burden to carry. I tell myself it's not so much as heavy as I imagined and force myself to push through with all my will for the sake of our family, but am I selfish for caring more of my own pride and honor.
Am I weak for wishing I could switch places with you instead. I don't resent you, I don't think I ever could. But despite telling myself I could survive a loveless marriage for the sake of our house, a life fated to push out heirs and nothing more than a chess pawn for the players of this cruel game, my heart aches for all the could've beens of my future.
I miss you sister, if you'd come back to me I would've force you to take back your mantle or hate you for leaving, I just wished id have a hand to hold throughout this lonely road I'm force to walk through.
your sister,
[name].
You blink through blurry visions as tears fall down the paper smudging the ink. Fighting the urge to scream you crumple the paper and throw it to the other side of the room.
Just a few days ago you were sure you'd be able to do this, that you could bare the responsibility placed on you. But now you wonder if everyone was right and you've always been the weaker of the two all along.
A loveless marriage, and a humiliating one. Can it get any worse? You hope to never answer that question.
You haven't seen Jacaerys since yesterday breakfast. You wished to confront him yourself of the rumour that's been spreading fast but he has been quite taken by his mother since morning so you'd wait for his training hours at least. Neither one of your parents had come to see you either, it felt like everyone was avoiding you for some reason.
Walking out the door of your chambers, you give a polite nod to the guard guarding your room as he bows back.
Book in your hand, you walk straight to his usual training spot. He has been training alone most of these days since Luc's death, and you were hoping this time was the same.
As if your prayers were answered, you see the prince sitting by the ground, sword next to him.
"My prince" you greeted, walking closer, feeling an anxious nerve swirling in your stomach. He startles from his daydream and glance at you in surprise. "My lady"
"I hope I'm not disturbing you my prince, you seem distracted"
"No- uh, not at all you're not. Im just, taking a break, clearing my mind, I can't work a sword right when my minds full" He gives a tight lipped smile saying this.
You give a nod of understanding as you lift your dress a bit to sit next to him. The sound of waves crashing loud drowning the awkward silence between the two of you. His mind seems somewhere else though his eyes stares right ahead at the sea.
You swallow hard before speaking up. "There is- something, that I wish to ask you my prince, relating to a rumor that's been spreading, perhaps you know what I'm talking about?" You attempted.
He looks at you in confusion before his eyes seem to relax and he sighed. "Yes, I think I do. I apologize my lady, the court must've been rudely insistent with the gossip towards you." He says only that, his eyes stops meeting yours.
Your heart stops. "So it's true? you wish to call off our wedding?"
He continues to not look at you but you can tell he was distressed. "It was a suggestion, that a stronger alliance was made. Your house's loyalty has proven to be a shaky foundation the moment your sister left-"
"My sister's decision was not my father's." You snapped standing up and glaring at him.
"We are one of the biggest supporters of house Targaryen and my father has not broken his oaths once, you need our troops even if another alliance was made yet you wish us to give you it without any interest given to our house besides a broken promise of your family?" The sneer in your voice couldn't be held back.
Not only were you the jest of the court but now your family is made fun of like a fucking circus in the middle of all this chaos.
His eyes widen in surprise as he rises to his feet and starts nearing you. "Interest? Is honor in not being the traitor of the fucking realm not enough" Despite you starting the argument, the anger in his voice caught u off guard.
"We have pride as much as you do Prince. For you to assume we'll bent the knee to the Queen for a little praise is disrespectful of you." You snapped back.
Before he could reply, you continued: "I lost my sister too, I know grief as much as you and I fear for the fate of my own house and family as you, can't you see? For you to belittle the status of my house and mine, is beyond hurtful and presumptuous of you. House Targaryen has promised an alliance and yet scheming to back down from its own words behind our back? Did you not think I at least deserve to know of this brilliant idea if yours before you presented it to the council?" Your voice grew louder.
"I was going to tell you, and why does it matter if you knew too late or too early? We've barely known eachother, you can't possibly be that offended now-"
"Are you deaf? I had to learn of my own broken betrothal from a fucking court lady who's head is so far up her own arse! I am a joke to the court and a joke to you. You do not love me and I don't ask you to, but do you not respect me as a woman engaged to you? Do I not deserve a bit of that at least?"
You fear your eyes would water as you shout louder, an annoying habit when you are angry.
"I've lost so much already and yet you think it fine to take the last thing I own now too, my pride" Your voice breaks as your fists clench by your side.
"Don't compare your situation with mine [name]. my brother died with honor, yours ran away from her's." He blurted out face red.
But the anger in his eyes disappeared as soon as it came, realizing what he just said.
You were speechless now. After everything you just said, he had the nerve to insult you and your family still.
You release a heavy breath and all the will to fight left your body. He opens his mouth to speak but you shook your head and turn to move immediately.
He pulls your arm tryung to stop you from leaving. "I didn't mean it-shit, listen [name]-"
You push his name off unable to look at him and force your legs to run back inside wiping your wet cheeks with the sleeves of your dress as you u hear him try to chase after you.
Trying to escape him as fast as you can, you hit a build waking towards you. Arms holding you up as you almost fall.
"My dear are you alright?" Queen Rhaenyra asks straightening you up and apologizes for bumping into you. You were glad the tears have been wiped out earlier, not willing to come up with a lie now.
"Oh yes - yes I'm fine my queen, I apologize, I wasn't looking straight -" Your words falter and your heart dropped as you hear Jace's footstep echoing louder towards you.
"[name]- mother?" his voice heard behind you.
You dare to turn and look at him and he has a scared look in his eyes.
You turn back to Rhaenyra giving a short smile. "Could I be excused my queen, I have some things to be looked over, if there isn't anything you need?" She has a confused face at the view in front of her, knowing something was off. "yes of course sweetheart, be careful with your steps" She smiles back, eyebrows furrowed as she let your arms go and you scramble towards your room leaving the prince with his mother.
°°°°
The maidens were braiding your hair so intricately as you sit still for it to finish faster.
You had to pull yourself together from all the crying about an hour ago when you were informed the queen wished to have a dinner together with your family.
Your energy was drained from all the tears. You think you can push yourself to sit through a few hours of empty conversations for tonight. That is, hoping you won't have to interact with the prince. A fat chance.
"It is done my lady" your handmaiden tells you. as she releases your hair letting the lower half down your shoulders.
You thank her gently and rose to leave your chambers to the dining room. You were startled as you were met with the prince Jacaerys himself, in front of your room.
He seems to have been there for a while. Eyes nervous, he speaks first before you can tell him off. "I wish to walk you to dinner." He blurted.
The two stared at eachother for a minute before you nodded slowly. He reach his hand out to you as you hesitantly place yours in it palms.
The walk was silent, and you were grateful for that, you truly didn't have much fight left in you for the night.
The table was already filled with your families except for Baela and Rhaena who haven't arrived yet. The queen Rhaenyra beamed at the sight of the two of you walking in hand in hand.
It hit you then, of course this gesture was for his mother. He didn't care wether you were alright or not.
You sat next to eachother as per assigned seat. Though non of you had said anything throughout dinner, you could feel him repeatedly throwing glances at you. It was annoying really.
What did he expect? that you'd relent and act as if nothing happened? You considered yourself a good person, not a stupid one.
The sound of happy laughs and chatters filled the room as you continue to play around with your food, giving small smiles and nods here and there when talked to. Though then the peaceful picture of this scene was broken by a loud clang outside the room.
An immediate silent flowed through the room as it caught us off guard.
You glance through the door and flinched when a loud bang pierced through it.
"what the fuck is it now?" Daemon yelled out to the guard posted outside.
nothing.
And then the screams of guards were heard and the door slammed open.
Screams were let out by the maids as strange men filled in with swords and knives.
"SECURE THE QUEEN" the kingsguard's roared as swords were drawn and men were falling through the room like dead leaves.
You all but screamed as you scrambled under the table to hide. Your feet was dragged out and were pinned in the floor as a knife was pinned through your neck, ready to be slit through.
You scream your lungs out and close your eyes in fear. The sword never went through as you hear a choked noise.
Opening your eyes, enters the view of Lady Baela Targaryen, her hand around the holder of a swords piercing through the neck if your attacker.
She pulls her sword off him and pulls you up with her. "Are you alright?" she asks quickly scanning you for injuries while running out the room with you.
"Yes i- wait where's everyone else-" you breathed out raggedly as she drags you behind a staircase as a group of men run through next to it. "Rhaenyra is secured with my father, I can't find Baela or Jace" She whispers quietly.
"What the fuck is going on-, do you think they're greens?" you were fighting back weak tears, this isn't the time to be a coward.
"Who else if not them? They are relentless [name]. It seems they wish to remove all threat to aegon by necessary. No matter the fucking consequences." Frowning with anger she pulls a sword from a statue knight and handed it over to you.
"If you don't know how to use it, Just swing really hard or something, as long as the edge reaches the body, you're good" she tells you shoving it in your hand.
You almost fall with the unexpected heavy weight of the sword but you manage to pull through raising it by your side as the two of you creep by the secret passageway behind the stairs. Her hand was still in yours, but it was you gripping hers, fingers trembling.
As she pulls the both of you out of the passageway that led through the throne room she screams out seeing her father being thrown over a table, his sword flying across the room. Baela runs across and flew over the attacker jumping behind him and pulling his head back as her sword slits through his neck.
You eyes bulge wide as his head rolls off.
You raise your sword and instinctively pushes it through a chest of man appearing out of knowhere ready to strangle you. His blood splattered over your dress, you push him off and run to Baela and Daemon.
Daemon's composure returns as he flings his sword through two men at once screaming at Baela and you to get out. Men filled the room, you couldn't identify your prince through the bloodied men and fallen heads and arms everywhere.
A certain coconut head looking man with being thrown to the floor made you push Baela's hold on you as you run to Jacaerys.
You scream his name plunging the sword through the man and kicking him in the face as he falls off.
Blood seeped through his ripped cloth on his arm, you cried at the sight, ripping off the edge of your skirt and rushingly wrapping it a mess around his arm. It wasn't going to hold in the blood, but it'll do for a good 5 minutes, you figured.
You turn around to see Baela no where to be found and then notice her carrying a passed out, bloody faced Rhaena out as Daemon pulls out mans tongue out.
Wincing at the latter view, you tried your best to drag Jace behind a more hidden desk at the edge of the throne room.
You pushed him to the corner and stuffed chairs in front to hide yourselves, ears ringing to the sounds if clashing metal.
Your eyes scan over Jace's unconscious ones. Shaking him by his shoulder you cried out his name begging him to wake up. His pulse was still there, he was going to be fine, you tell yourself.
The blocking chair was dragged away and you screamed sitting in front of Jace to shield him as the view of Queen Rhaenyra's kings guard comes in view.
"shh- it's me my lady- come" he holds his hand out for you and his other lifting Jace up his shoulder as he runs breathlessly leading you back out the same passageway you entered before noticed by any attackers. He placed you both under the stairs and told you to stay there.
He pulls his cloak out wrapping it over your half assed bandage over Jace's wounded arm. "Please do not leave here until I come back my lady, make sure the bandage doesn't lose" He speaks fiercely and you nod fast as tears stream down your face.
As he leaves you push Jace back into a hopefully more comfortable position for him.
You pull the cloak tighter around his arm and you pray he'll hold out long enough for the siege to end and for him to survive.
#jacaerys targaryen#jace velaryon x reader#jacaerys velaryon#jacaerys velaryon x reader#jace targaryen x reader#hotd x reader#house of the dragon x reader#house of the dragon#hotd season 1#game of thrones
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One Long Weekend: - Clyde/YN One-Shot Series CH 11
"I never said that!"
"Yeah well I don't get off on repeat rejection so I'll just go."
Tagging: @roryculkinluvr @siriuslymooned @cc-luvr @crypticsewerslut @icarus-star @desert-springtime @shady-the-simp @izuoyarmin
SUNDAY, 12:30AM
The games continued and Y/n continued to drown her sorrows in whatever Lola and Beau were pouring in her solo cup. Clyde kept his eyes on her trying to get her to come back and sit with him but she wouldn't budge. Snow picked up on the vibe and kept trying to make cute comments but the only response she seemed to get was a huff or forced smile.
"Ohhh! Never have I ever made it to third base in the closet." Y/n happened to glance up and watched Clyde put his finger down. Something in her gut caught fire and she let out a loud HA! that startled everyone.
"So you will hook up in the closet, just not with me." Y/n shook her head and Clyde blushed.
"Y/n..." Snow reached out but Y/n was already fighting angry tears. She hated being someone who cried when they got angry. They made her feel weak.
"Wait, you too haven't hooked up yet? How is that possible?" Beau slurred.
"Beats me. I guess I'm just not your friends type or he just finds me absolutely hideous." Y/n started getting up but got the spins.
"Can you just wait?" Clyde reached out but she pulled away.
"I got the message Clyde. Loud and clear. You guys have been great but I think it's time I head out." The group groaned and kept trying to get her to stay but she ran out of the apartment, heading back to Clyde's. Luckily he left the door unlocked so she could gather her few things. She heard the door open and shut not too long after she had pushed it shut.
"Hey! Please stop okay?" Clyde put his hands up trying to stay out of Y/n's way as she aggressively tossed her things into her bag.
"You could have told me you didn't like me Clyde. We could have been great friends but you let me throw myself out you like an idiot and now I've humiliated myself in front of your friends." Y/n shouted, watching Clyde reach for his aid like he was adjusting it or turning the volume down. She made a note to lower her voice.
"Please just stop and talk to me okay? I know you're upset and that its my fault but you can't just take off. You've had too much to drink-" Clyde tried to calm the situation but Y/n shook her head.
"I'm not wasted Clyde. I can Uber to a hotel and you can enjoy the rest of your weekend." Y/n put the strap of her bag on her shoulder but Clyde moved in front of the door.
"So you think because I'm not taking advantage of you that I'm not interested in you?" Clyde asked wanting more clarification.
"Honestly I don't know what you want. I have made multiple advances on you and you've turned me down every time." Clyde frowned.
"I mean...you saw me naked for Christ sake..." Y/n looked down at her feet and Clyde stepped towards her.
"Y/n..." Clyde reached out to take her hand.
"You've clearly brought others back and thought they were hot enough to fuck in a closet so..." Y/n wanted to take comfort in Clyde squeezing her hand but she didn't.
"I never said that." Clyde defended.
"Yeah well I don't get off on repeat rejection so I'll just go." Y/n pulled her hand from Clyde's to walk past him but the moment she had her back to him, he spun her around, slamming her back against the door but putting his hand up quickly so her head would hit his hand and not the door.
Now Y/n was surprised. This was the most aggressive Clyde had been since they started hanging out.
"You think I just bring girls back like this? Like you're just some random groupie I happened to pick up at one of the shows to bring back and fuck?" Clyde's tone was strong. He wanted Y/n to understand him.
"I don't know Clyde. I don't know anything about you. We've slept in the same bed, spent the entire day together, I let you know where I live, I let you see me naked! I'm acting like some crazy obsessed fangirl and that's not who I am!" Clyde watched Y/n getting upset and felt awful.
"I like you. I like spending time with you and making you laugh. I've barely spent two days with you and it's been some of the most fun I've had in a long time and I'm ruining everything." Y/n covered her face in embarrassment and Clyde pulled at her hands.
"You aren't ruining anything. Please don't cry." Clyde pleaded.
"No I am ruining everything. I get drunk and become this jealous, blubbering idiot as if I have some sort of stake on you and you haven't even tried to kiss-" Clyde cut her off, lips on hers, free hand resting gently on her throat. Y/n wasn't expecting it in the slightest so when his tongue dipped between her lips, she moaned. He tasted like rum and cigarettes and kissed like he was trying to pull oxygen directly from your lungs. When Clyde pulled away, he briefly rested his forehead against hers, opening his eyes to see hers were still closed.
"I don't bring girls like you home. You aren't some groupie hanging around the band, settling to fuck around with the guy who drives them around. You're you and that is...so much more." Clyde swallowed the lump in his throat and Y/n opened her eyes.
"Clyde..." Y/n wanted to respond but suddenly pushed Clyde away from her, throwing up mere inches from his shoes. That was not what Clyde was expecting either but he immediately started to help her.
"Oh my God. Oh my God." Y/n kept repeating mortified. Clyde helped her to the bathroom where she collapsed in front of the toilet, continuing to wretch. Clyde pulled her hair back and used one of his wrist ties to keep her hair from falling into the puke. He held a washcloth under the faucet and held it to the back of her neck while he rubbed her back.
"Y/n? Clyde?" Snow called out.
"Is that vomit?" Lola gagged and ran back out of the room.
"Snow! Give me a hand." Clyde called out, hearing Snow practically sliding across the floor. She stopped at the door and saw the state of Y/n and frowned.
"Aw babe." Snow felt awful for her.
"I've got her, go." She tried to politely rush Clyde out but he didn't want to leave her.
"Trust me, no girl wants the person she's into seeing her like this. I promise I've got her. Just make sure she'll have someplace clear of puke to sleep." Snow put her hand on Clyde's shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze before shutting the door in his face.
#electrick children#Clyde#Clyde x Y/n#One Shot Series#One Long Weekend#Culkin Cult#Rory Culkin#One Long Weekend Series#11/18
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Husk?
Alastor is sitting on the edge of the bed, his usually impeccable appearance disheveled. His eyes are red and swollen from crying, and it’s clear he’s been in this state for hours.
Husk: *Approaching cautiously* Hey... You’ve got the whole hotel worried, you know? You haven’t eaten anything, and... damn, you look like hell.
Alastor: *Barely glancing up, his voice hoarse from crying* I suppose that’s fitting, isn’t it? Considering… everything.
Husk sits down next to Alastor, the bed creaking slightly under his weight. He’s not used to this—comforting someone like Alastor, someone who usually exudes an aura of control and confidence. But seeing Alastor like this, so broken, it tugs at something in Husk’s chest.
Husk: It’s been a hell of a day. But you can’t just starve yourself. Come on, you need to eat something. You’re gonna make yourself sick if you don’t.
Alastor: *Shaking his head* "I can’t, Husk. Every time I close my eyes, I see… him and I just feel humiliated.
Husk: Lucifer did it to free Angel’s soul remember?
Alastor: *shakes his head* I’m not talking about Lucifer.
Husk: *confused* Then who are you talking about?
Alastor: *looks uneasy* Vox.
Husk: Vox? What does he have to do with this?
Alastor: I…made a deal with him. He destroys the copies and all footages of Lucifer’s film…and in return…we had sex.
Husk: *surprised* Oh…I didn’t know.
Alastor: No one was supposed to know. But Vox went against our deal and I feel like a used up tramp!
Husk: Hey now just because you had sex doesn’t make you a tramp. Sex can just be meaningless…like when we all in heat with Lucifer. You used him and threw him to the side.
Alastor: *looks away* I regret that…it’s one of my biggest regrets. And I never viewed sex as anything before. It was just something I wasn’t interested in. I’m still not really but some part of me…likes the idea of connection it’s supposed to be.
Husk: *softening* I get that. It’s not just about the physical stuff. It’s about trust, intimacy… all that sappy shit that we don’t really talk about. But hey, Vox screwing you over doesn’t change who you are, Al. You did what you thought was right at the moment, and it sucks that he betrayed you, but that doesn’t make you less of a person.
Alastor: *sighs heavily* It’s just… I thought I could handle it. I thought I could make a deal, get what I needed, and walk away unscathed. But now… I just feel empty. Like I’ve lost a part of myself I didn’t even know I valued.
Husk: *reaches out and puts a hand on Alastor’s shoulder* You haven’t lost anything, Al. You’re still you. You’re still the Radio Demon, for fuck’s sake. You’re just… feeling vulnerable right now, and that’s okay. Hell, it’s more than okay—it’s human.
Alastor: *bitter laugh* Human… that’s ironic, isn’t it? Considering what we are.
Husk: Maybe, but even demons have hearts, whether we want to admit it or not. You’ve got people who care about you, and that’s worth something. Don’t let Vox take that away from you.
Alastor: *looking at Husk with tired, red-rimmed eyes* I just don’t know how to move past this. I’ve always prided myself on being in control, on never letting anyone see my weaknesses. But now… now I feel like I’ve been exposed, and I don’t know how to put the pieces back together.
Husk: *squeezing Alastor’s shoulder a bit tighter* You don’t have to put them back together alone. Let people in, Al. You’ve been strong for so long, but even you need a break. Lean on the ones who care about you, let them help you through this. You’d be surprised how much lighter things feel when you’re not carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders.
Alastor: *his voice is softer, almost vulnerable* It’s hard, Husk. It’s hard to let go of that control, to let anyone see the cracks.
Husk: *gently* I know, but maybe it’s time to let someone else hold the reins for a while. Just until you get your strength back.
Alastor: *pauses, considering Husk’s words before nodding slightly* Maybe you’re right. I can’t do this on my own… not this time.
Husk: *gives a small smile* That’s the spirit. Now, let’s get you something to eat. You’ve gotta take care of yourself, or you’ll just feel worse.
Alastor: *manages a faint smile in return* Okay, Husk.
#maternity morningstar au#OOC Alastor#out of character Alastor#alastor#husk#ask husk#ask alastor#Alastor and Husk moment#I wanted this to be sweet
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