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#i’m so curious to see what the vibes are…
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Concept: what if sometimes Lydia asks BJ to show her some alternate reality dreams where they’re in conflict, or where they’re falling in love all over again in different ways, because she’s just curious and creative and likes thinking about their relationship from a bunch of different angles? And he’s a simp, of course, so he’d show her whatever enemies-to-lovers AUs she wants to sorta-live out, possibly including ones where waking up next to him is a “nightmare” that she had to wake up from… and then she could wake up for realsies and be happy to see him
Maybe the whole marriage-bargain thing from BJBJ was a fantasy of hers to sort of give herself plausible deniability from admitting that she really does want an unhinged wedding. Kinda like how many women have fantasies about non-consensual sexual encounters in part because then it’s like, even in their imagination, they’re still pure and virtuous and someone’s just forcing them, it’s not like they have desires of their own that they’re fantasizing about! So the wedding in the movie could’ve been a fantasy of like, “noo I’m a good girl in a dubiously-consensual wedding, I’m not to blame for this, I had to marry him for my daughter’s sake! It’s not like I’m into his freak vibe!!!” and then when she wakes up with him she’s unequivocally into his freak vibe, but sometimes the girlies gotta go into their fantasy world to subconsciously work out some lingering shame
Idk I like to think Lydia's noncon fantasies would be spicier than that, especially at this stage in her life. But I do agree with you that Betelgeuse absolutely would indulge Lydia any fantasy she desired.
I'm pretty sure BJ2 is all about Lydia wanting to be a mother and Betelgeuse fulfilling that wish. He's a jealous guy. It's not easy for him to let her go traipsing through the ether having imaginary relationships with imaginary men, but it's worth it to give her what she wants; Astrid.
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bloomingdead · 1 day
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Can is ask you a question? Is it true that Solavellan is the default world state in Dav? I saw people saying it's confirmed because female lavellan didn't have vallaslin in the cc but I also saw that even a male lavellan didn't have them either. Do you know if they made Solas bi now?
I’m curious to see where you saw the default M!Lavellan with no vallaslin, that’s a very interesting implication for between-games lore or potential (understandable) retcons. Because at first I thought perhaps somehow, F!Lavellan could have found a way (or someone) to remove her vallaslin if she never had solas remove it. I figured any of my F!Lavellan who didn’t romance Solas, or did and refused his removal spell, would have changed their mind after learning what we do in Trespasser.
So no, I’m not 100% certain that in the default world state, Solas is Lavellan’s romance. I think it would make sense for increased drama to hook the new players but it only seems so to me based on the assumption the only person in the world, or in reach of Lavellan, that can remove vallaslin is a romanced Solas. I’m also not 100% certain you can retroactively make Solas the romance for M!Lavellan, especially since I have no idea what you saw. Though I do hope they make that change since some players may like to hc that their Lavellan transitioned with all the new inclusivity options in the character creator. Plus Solas just gives equal opportunity lover vibes lmfaooo let him be bisexual BioWare!!!
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r-18g · 6 months
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myokk · 2 months
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Eloise’s face claim💓
I just realized I only posted this on Twitter…but I want to share it here too😤🫶
A few weeks ago I was on Pinterest and I saw some stills from this movie and I did a double take😳 like…it was literally like seeing how I picture her in my mind!!! I’ve never seen this movie before but now I have to!!!!!!
Also the fact that it’s Helena Bonham Carter?????? And Eloise is Bellatrix’s great-aunt??????? I SWEAR I DESIGNED ELOISE & EVERYTHING BEFORE I MADE THIS CONNECTION BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH
Some more stills from this movie bc I have NO CHILL…maybe I loved this movie in a different life and my soul remembered it because it is CRAZY !!!!!!!!
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Also some drawings I did of my angel BEFORE I made this connection (aka all of them😆)
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hawkinslibrary · 1 year
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my top 10 ttpd songs in order of how well i think they’d fit into the eras tour setlist
1. but daddy i love him
2. who’s afraid of little old me?
3. i can do it with a broken heart
4. the smallest man who ever lived
5. my boy only breaks his favorite toys
6. how did it end?
7. fortnight
8. the alchemy
9. down bad
10. florida!!!
EDIT: idk what the FUCK i was thinking putting florida!!! last it would eat so hard live, honestly i would switch this list around so much
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sanguinaryrot · 1 year
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I’m so excited. I know how to have one (1) extremely specific interaction in Irish now. someone ask me how I’m doing and what the weather is like quick /j
#looking into tapping into things I have been curious about in the past#(this happens every once in a while)#again. my family is Irish so I decided the learn the language#but I’m also exploring spirituality#I don’t think I believe in any of the major religions (though I’ve been standing from afar gazing at Judaism#I am extremely fond of a lot of their ideas and culture. beautiful stuff#and frankly I feel like I’ve been getting signs that I should convert for years now#but I’m not in a place where I feel like I can commit to it so I am just admiring from afar#while I foster what I think ‘god’ is#there’s this concept that some people have that like#god is not a dude who has a beard and lives in the clouds#but rather is the feeling you get when you connect with another person#the sense of wonder you feel when you see something beautiful#and I think perhaps even the ability to hope/wish/manifest/pray/etc something into existence#my mom calls this ‘energy’ but I do not vibe with this term#idk how to explain it other than like#when you’re watching a movie and you see those lines they draw to represent wind and it’s blowing around leaves#or snow#and it’s meant to represent this idea that there is Something affecting the word but it is not corporeal and incredibly vague#that’s what I believe in#it is unknowable but it can be influenced with good intentions#and it permeates your body when you connect to another human in a meaningful way#that’s what it’s like for me. doesn’t have to be for you! but that’s what I’m working with right now#there’s this prayer that saint augustine wrote that I edited lightly to more suit my needs#and I try to say it once a day#I believe it is called Watch O Lord#I edited some of the words to more suit how I view the world but I really like the intention#anyways#Tá sé fuad ach tá sé tirim. It is cold but it is dry. thank you New York!!!!!!
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camzeecorner · 1 month
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ONE TASTE 18+
Summary: Matt, the school's 'nerd,' unexpectedly found himself in a vulnerable position after confessing to his best friend that he was still a virgin, leading to a moment that would change their friendship forever.
Warnings : edging, praise, mommy kink, squirting, kissing, virginity lost, creampie, explicit language, manipulation if you squint
sub!matt x fem reader
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I lay on my back, gazing at the familiar patterns on my ceiling, the soft glow of the lamp casting gentle shadows as I listened to Matt flip through his pages repeatedly. It was almost hypnotic, the way he immersed himself in his studies. I couldn't help but wonder what fueled his passion for school; he cared for it with a devotion that was rare among our peers. People often whispered that I kept him around for his grades, that I used him, but they didn't understand. Matt was my favorite person, my best friend.
No one ever talked to him, and girls never seemed to approach him, which, oddly enough, made me happy. I liked how closed off he was to everyone else; it felt like I had a little piece of him all to myself. I began to wonder if Matt had ever been with a girl. He never mentioned crushes or the girls he found pretty, which was strange considering how open I was with him. I shared everything about my life, my escapades, my heartaches, but his world remained a mystery. At first, I didn't want to push him, but now I couldn't shake the feeling that maybe he was just embarrassed to share his secrets with me.
Sitting up, I fixed my gaze on him. Matt was different from the other boys at our school—only Chris and Nick shared that same vibe, but for entirely different reasons. To me, he was always attractive, with a magnetic charm that made my heart race. His sharp jawline and godlike features were mesmerizing, and his hair was perfectly soft, almost inviting to touch. But it was his eyes that captivated me the most—an enchanting shade of blue that seemed to hold entire galaxies within them. His glasses only accentuated his striking looks, making him the quintessential nerd, though never in my eyes. It was a shame that other girls couldn’t see what I saw. I pondered a little longer, taking in every detail, my heart fluttering as I examined him from head to toe, wondering if he could ever see himself the way I saw him.
“hey Matt..” I call out, catching his attention “..yea” Matt said looking up from his textbook. He turned his head slightly to the side so he could see me. I took a moment looking at him, “You ever..kiss a girl?” I say smiling. Matt shifted in his seat quickly reverting his eyes back to his book. He cleared his throat, his chest rising and falling. He began looking over the words on his book nervously. “Why are you asking me that..?” He spoke quietly. I got up walking next to him. I placed my hands on his shoulders running them up and down. “I’m just wondering matty.. you gonna answer my question?” He looked around in front of him, he had beads of sweat rolling down his forehead. “I really have to study .. you’re disturbing me.” I knew he was trying to avoid the conversation, but I was curious. I wanted to know everything about him. “It’s just one question..” I say scoffing. I look at his stuff sprawled out on my desk. I quickly grab his things and place them in his bag. “I was using those!” Matt barked at me. Turning around in his chair fast. “Matt you’ve never kissed a girl have you..” I whisper to him.
I bend my body down so I’m eye level with him. “You’ve never felt the touch of someone else on you” I lean forward to whisper in his ear. “S-stop” Matt stuttered. It was so fulfilling listening to him speak pathetically. He didn’t want me to stop. “Matt..” I look in his eyes, then his lips. His soft pink plump lips. They were chapped from the amount of time he had bit them. I bring him to my bed sitting him on the edge.
I knew what I had to do. I knew what I wanted to do. I kissed him.
It felt like a suction cup and I never wanted to release him. It took him a moment to realize I was kissing him. He moved him lips in a matching pace to mine. I tug on his hair pulling him even closer to me. I lick his top lip asking for an entrance. He doesn’t understand that, so I bite his lip gently. He gasps opening his mouth slighty. Being fast i slip my tongue inside his mouth. I find his tongue and start to gently suck on it, moaning into the kiss. I pull away with a string of saliva connected to our mouths. Matt’s eyes are wide open. “What..what was that for.” i shrug my shoulders smiling at him. Gently placing my lips back on him. I pull away and chuckle. “I was curious of what you tasted like..” I look up at him. His eyebrows raise. “I’ve never done that before..” he smiles blush slightly. I smile at him looking down. I licked my lips, tasting him. I look at Matt and smirk. “Have you ever seen a girl naked?” I bite my lip at him moving his glasses back onto his face as they slid down. Matt shook his head. “uhm..no.. I-i haven’t” “do you want to?” I ask him smirking. “Well. I don’t know.. if that’s a good idea” I stand up and take my shirt off. “I don’t see why it’s an issue.. if you want me to stop, just tell me and I’ll stop.”
I walk over to my bed, climbing on it. I scoot back so I’m at the headboard. I look at Matt and pat the spot beside me signaling him to sit there. Matt gets up and walks over. I can see his slightly hard boner, making his pants tighter. I smirk at myself. He sits beside me, putting some space between us. I scoot so I’m closer to him. I reach for Matt’s hand interlocking our fingers. I place our hands on my chest, gently squeezing them. Matt’s breath hitches in his throat. “Oh my god.” Matt spoke in a hushed breath. I let go of his hand reaching behind me unclasping my bra. I let it fall in my lap, picking it up tossing it to the side. His eyes immediately look down and my bare chest. “Do you like them matty?” He nods his head quickly. “I’ve never seen them in person, they never looked this perfect in the movies.” I laugh at his comment, enjoying the praise. He smiles lightly.
I lean forward grabbing Matt’s face. I kiss him rougher than I did the first time. He climbs on top of me making sure not to break the kiss. He begins massaging my boobs rolling my nipple in between his fingers. “Oh fuck Matt” I grind my hip upwards towards his hard erection trying to create friction. I reach my hand down gently palming him. He moans loudly into my mouth. I could’ve came right then and there from his sounds. I pull away from him and flip us over quickly. I straddle his waist. He’s lying down and I’m on top of him. I begin unbuttoning his shirt. Pulling it off of his body throwing it in the same direction as mine. I trail my hands up and down his toned stomach. “Do you want to have sex with me Matt?” I ask him shyly. “Yes.” He speaks quick. “But.. I don’t know how..” he looks away getting embarrassed. He’s so cute. “ that’s okay baby. Just lie down and be good f’me” I reach down kissing him. I pull away and get off of him pulling my shorts off. I look up and see Matt copying my movements, taking my underwear off I get back on Matt. I grab his fingers and place them right into my wet folds.
He gasps loudly looking up at me. I roll my body into his hand enjoying the feeling. I’ve never felt like this towards anyone before. “Oh g-god m-matt.. you make me feel s-so good” I moan throwing my head back. I feel him moving his fingers in a circular motion. I grip his wrist feeling my stomach tightening. He slips two fingers in moving them fast, in and out. “Oh god Matt.. right t-there.” I moan loudly. “Shit shit” my breath picking up. “Matt I’m gonna cum” bucking my hips forward, I cum all over his fingers feeling my body shaking. I slowly come down from my intense orgasm, feeling limp. “Did I do good for you?” I look at Matt and smile nodding my head. “So good baby” I kiss him. “Such a good boy” I whisper in his mouth. I pull away grabbing his hand placing his fingers into my mouth sucking my juices off of him. I lick each finger making sure to clean them perfectly. “You wanna taste me baby?” “Please..” I bring my lips towards him and kiss him sliding my tongue in his mouth, my cum mixing between us. He inhaled in the kiss. “So sweet” I pull away, resting my forehead against his. Leaning back up i repositioned myself so I’m sitting on his hard dick. “I’m gonna ride you now okay baby” he nods looking up at me.
I rub his cock slowly giving him satisfaction. He moans lowly closing his eyes at the feeling. “That feel good baby?” “S’good.. so good mommy” I stop my motions right then looking at him. Matt opens his eyes fast, and begins to sit up. He looked so scared. So vulnerable. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that I’m so sorry-“ “don’t apologize,” I smirk at him. Cupping his face tilting my head to the side. “be a good boy for mommy okay” he whimpers at my words bucking his hips up. I sit up, placing his tip at my entrance rubbing it back and forth before slipping it into me. “Fuck Matt, you’re s-so huge” I pull my body up and slam back down, fast. Repeating the process until I build a pace going back up and down. Throwing my head back I moan. God I could ride him all day. My legs felt like they were getting weaker and weaker. I place my hands on his chest gaining balance. Matt noticed how tired my body was getting, he grabbed my thighs and started to thrust up. For a virgin he was so good at this. Hitting every perfect spot, at such amazing angles. I could feel him start to twitch in me. He must’ve been so close.
“M’so close mo-mommy” he whimpered. “Wait for me baby.. can you do that? Be a g-good boy and wait for me” he moaned and started gaining speed adding his fingers. He rubbed fast on my clit making me scream. “Fuck shit- oh my god- I’m gonna cum” he kept going fast hitting the same spot over and over. The pressure from his fingers and the way he was fucking himself into me making me squirm. “C’mon mommy.. wanna feel you cum on my cock” hearing him say that was enough to send me over the edge. I whimper chocking on my sobs. “I’m cumming Matt shit shit-“ I felt the knot in my stomach releasing over matt for the second time. I saw liquid flow out of me fast, Matt getting pushed out of me in the process. I felt his cum dripping out of me. Our fluids mixing together. “You made me squirt Matt..” I look at him shocked. I begin giggling covering my face. I look at Matt in disbelief, “No one has ever made me feel that good.” He smiles at me through his heavy breathing, the look he was giving me was enough to make me want to fuck him again.“does that make me special?” He closed his eyes trying to catch his breath. His glasses had fogged up, I grab them wiping the lenses. “You’ve always been special to me.” I look up at him through my eyelashes. “I’ll get something to clean the mess” I get up going into my bathroom and grab a cloth. I run the rag through hot water, ringing the extra water out. Walking back to my room I climb on my bed beside matt.
I gently wipe him down, being careful not to startle him. I can tell he’s sensitive; he hisses every time I touch him. Getting up, I head to my closet and grab some clothes for us. Walking back to Matt, I hand him the clothes. “Thank you,” he says, a soft smile spreading across his face. “Of course,” I reply, slipping into my own outfit.
I climb into bed, scooting next to Matt and resting my head on his chest. It feels so comfortable here; he always makes me feel safe, like I can truly be myself. My mind races with thoughts, and I can’t help but wonder how we would look together as a couple. I look up at him, my heart pounding, and finally speak up. “I wanna be with you, Matt. I’ve never thought any less of you. You’ve always been so perfect to me.” My voice is quiet, but I hope he hears me.
For a few seconds, he doesn’t respond, just picks at his lips with his teeth. Doubt creeps in, and I start to regret my confession. What if he doesn’t feel the same way? He clears his throat, licks his lips, and pushes his hair back before turning to look at me, gently grabbing my chin. “You’ve always been my favorite girl,” he says, leaning in to place a soft kiss on my lips. I smile into the kiss, warmth flooding my cheeks. When he pulls away, he tucks some hair behind my ear and locks his fingers in my hair, scanning my face as he tugs his lip between his teeth. “I wanna be with you too…”
In that moment, I feel like the happiest girl alive. I leap up from the bed, swinging my arms around him in pure joy. I’ve never felt this happy before! I shower him with kisses all over his face, feeling myself melt into him. He giggles, wrapping his arms around me, and I finally place a gentle kiss on his cheek, relaxing into his embrace. It’s perfect.
A/N: just notice I don’t have a tag list #embarafuckingssing
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f1angelz · 2 months
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filo girly request for oscar 🧍🏻‍♀️🫶🏼
im thinking of a scenario where reader is part of a love team and oscar gets jealous or she gets questions when shes on a show it interview about him and they love her and oscar together if a fc is needed i love atasha mulach's vibe
𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒏 — oscar piastri x reader
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summary: oscar’s girlfriend is a celebrity and has an on-screen partner. when she gets asked about her and oscar’s relationship during an interview, what is she gonna say?
content warnings: none, just fluff. (not proofread sorry </3)
this fic contains tagalog phrases and words highlighted in italics. for non-filipino readers, translations are provided in small text. *(mahal = love)
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It’s 3 in the morning in Silverstone, and Oscar couldn’t sleep.
Maybe it’s because he arrived a few hours ago and can’t bring himself to rest, or maybe it’s because his girlfriend had an interview on the other side of the globe.
Oscar’s girlfriend is a celebrity in the Philippines, Y/N Y/L/N. She’s had multiple projects, endorsements, and films that have also gone global. Before getting into this relationship, Oscar knew the consequences that he would have to face— long distance, media, and other factors.
But he loved her. That’s what mattered the most, right?
Not until Y/N recently had a TV series that went viral, as she was paired with one of the most famous actors in Filipino TV. Their chemistry was undeniable— weeks after her TV series was released, she was all over the news along with her on-screen partner. There were fan accounts, edits, and even fanfiction about them.
Everytime a new post was written about them, Oscar’s jealousy grew. Although Y/N always reassured him that it was strictly on-screen, He really couldn’t help it.
Oscar’s thoughts stopped when he felt his phone vibrate on his chest.
my love 💞: hi, mahal! i know you’re still up. my interview is almost gonna start. watch me?
my love 💞 has sent a link.
my love 💞: there’ll be a monitor in front of us during the interview. i’ll be able to see it on screen once you’ve joined, okay? i love you!
Oscar smiled.
mahal 🩷: okay babe, i’ll be joining in a few. goodluck!
Oscar sat up and reached out for his laptop which was on the desk, opened it up and clicked on the link she sent.
The show was already starting, the hosts greeting the crowd both in the studio and livestream.
Y/N and her on-screen partner were introduced. Once they both entered, the crowd went wild, cheering for them with their ship name. Oscar looked at the livestream comments and sighed, everyone was crazy for them.
The show went on as usual, asking them about the TV series and how filming was going. Eventually, the hosts asked about their personal lives.
“So Y/N, We’re aware that you’re dating F1 driver Oscar Piastri. Kamusta naman kayo?”
(So Y/N, We’re aware that you’re dating F1 driver Oscar Piastri. How are you guys doing?)
Y/N smiled and let out a nod, “We’re doing really well. Actually, kakapanalo lang nya last week in the Austrian Grand Prix. I was there and I couldn’t have been more proud.”
(We’re doing really well. Actually, he recently won last week in the Austrian Grand Prix. I was there and I couldn’t have been more proud.)
The hosts smiled and fawned over their relationship, “I’m sure he’s proud of your career too. But we’re curious, hindi ba siya nag seselos? For sure aware naman siya sa love team nyo.”
(I’m sure he’s proud of your career too. But we’re curious, does he get jealous? For sure he’s aware about your love team.)
The studio crowd cood and Oscar’s heart started beating.
Y/N let out a small laugh, it was a common question that people asked her since their relationship was public.
“Hindi naman siya nag seselos, I wish.”
(He doesn’t really get jealous, I wish.)
She humored, and the rest laughed. Oscar laughed too at her response, assuming that it was something funny since he couldn’t understand.
“All jokes aside, hindi naman siya nag seselos. He knows very well that strictly for work lang yung ginagawa ko. He’s the best boyfriend I could ever ask for.”
(All jokes aside, he doesn’t really get jealous. He knows very well that what I’m doing is strictly for work. He’s the best boyfriend I could ever ask for.)
One of the hosts asked, “Do you have any message for him?”
Y/N cleared her throat, “Hi, mahal! I know you’re watching right now kahit sobrang late na diyan. Thank you for always being very supportive, you know how much I love you. I can’t wait to see you on Sunday!”
(Hi, love! I know you’re watching even if it’s super late over there. Thank you for always being very supportive, you know how much I love you. I can’t wait to see you on Sunday!)
The crowd smiled and teased, clapping at her message.
Oscar was smiling from ear-to-ear, and somehow, he wasn’t as jealous anymore. He saw the livestream commenting on their relationship and how cute they were. Maybe he shouldn’t be jealous after all.
The show eventually ended and Oscar closed his laptop, returning it on his desk. He opened his phone and sent Y/N a message.
mahal 🩷: you know i’ll always be here for you, right? no matter what time it is where i’m in.
my love 💞: i know, mahal. and i know you’re jealous too 😆
Oscar laughed, maybe he was bad at hiding it.
mahal 🩷: maybe i was a bit jealous.
my love 💞: oscar jack piastri, you literally have my heart and you’ll always have it. okay?
He smiled. God, he loves her so much.
mahal 🩷: i know, and i’ll do everything in my power to keep it safe. i love you ❤️
my love 💞: go to sleep, i know you’re getting tired, mahal. i love you too! see you on sunday ❤️
Oscar gave her message a heart react before turning off his phone.
And off he drifted to sleep, knowing that he was the luckiest man on earth that night.
── .✦
a/n: i had so much fun writing this, it’s been 2 years since i wrote a fic !! also i’m so grateful for those who requested. much love 🤍
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tonyboneysblog · 3 months
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curiosity kills the cat: one shot!
parings: Touya x reader
word count: 1.3k
notes: this was originally gonna be a part in a fanfic I was cooking but i genuinely could not figure out how to write childhood friends with Dabi’s crisped ass.
warnings: none!
summary: Touya always sees kissing in movies, all dramatic and lovey dovey, is it really his fault that he wants to try it on you? just to see how it feels of course!
“this movie fucking sucks.”
“language Touya.”
currently, you were at the treacherous Todoroki household.
Why? You may be asking.
Because you wanted to watch a movie, 27 dresses specifically.
Unfortunately for Touya Todoroki, he’s your only friend to watch the movie with.
now the two of you have been friends since pre-school, kids bullied you- Touya saved you.
you stuck around him after that, much to his dismay.
“Why would you make me watch this garbage.” Touya says harshly.
You huff loudly, “to see if your cold, dark heart had anything in it.”
Touya giggles at your little comment, you liked his laugh.
you wanted to watch this movie for a week, practically begged Touya on your knees for him to even watch it with you.
Touya doesn’t enjoy cheesy rom-coms.
He’s made that quite clear throughout this whole movie.
when the two main characters tried on the dresses he complained.
when they went to the bar together, he complained.
when the characters sang at the bar, he complained then too.
yet when they kissed, Touya didn’t even open his mouth.
“yuck- want me to skip?” You say for Touya’s sake.
He’s quiet for a moment before speaking, “nah, it’s just a kiss.”
“What- you’re suddenly cool with lovey dovey stuff now?” your face is set perplexed.
Touya shrugs, “I see it in TV all the time, why should I care?”
You hum softly, “adults kiss too much.”
Touya hums in agreement, his foot starting to steadily tap.
the movie continues, you catch Touya scoff at one of the movies jokes, he seems to be…actually interested.
but that damn tapping won’t stop.
Doesn’t his leg get tired when he does that?
Finally, at the end of the movie the two main lead get married, and the main actress has her 27 bridesmaids.
cute movie.
“Did you like it Touy?” you ask with excitement bubbling inside your chest.
He responds bluntly, “No- terrible movie.”
“Liar- that was the most I’ve ever seen you pay attention to something!” You point an accusing finger towards him.
Touya swatted your finger away, “I was waiting for the guy to murder the girl.”
“What?!” You retract your finger quickly.
Touya shakes his head as if it were obvious, “He had serial killer vibes..”
You sit there on the couch utterly silent from the words that just came out of Touya’s mouth.
His brows furrow slightly, “What?”
“Nothing, weirdo..”
Touya melts into the couch, picking up the remote and scrolling through the streaming apps choices.
“Any thing else you’d like to watch?”
“Being a gentleman I see?” You hum.
Touya chuckles softly, never responding.
The room is on a comfortable silence for the moment, aside from Touya tapping his foot against the glass table his feet are propped on.
Touya’s foot staggers, “Why do you think adults kiss?”
“Because they like it.” You answer quickly.
Touya shakes his head softly, “yeah but why, why do they like it?”
“Why would I know the answer to that.”
Touya glares at your for a moment, “oh please- your parents basically make out all the time when I’m over.”
“So that means I should know why they like it?” You pick at the fur blanket that was thrown over you prior to starting the movie.
Touya hums a small, “yep” before his foot starts to tap again.
“Didn’t think you were so affected by the kissing scene…” you say under your breath, Touya heard anyway.
“I-I wasn’t affected, I’m just curious on what’s so good about it.” He says quickly, the tapping increasing.
You seriously doubt Touya’s even looking at the tittles on the screen by how fast he’s tapping the remote button.
“Well I wouldn’t know…”
Touya stays quiet for a moment, thinking.
probably about something stupid.
“We could know.”
yep, something stupid.
“What you implying Touya?” You elbow his ribs, making him yelp.
“Ow- I’m saying that…nevermind.” Touya rubs his ribs softly, dropping the remote next to you.
“I mean…you’re just curious right?”
Touya looks up at you, the tapping gets faster.
“Yeah- Why…?”
You pick up the remote, looking it over to act like your doing anything else other that what your about to do.
“We could- do it..” you say quiet and soft.
Touya doesn’t respond, the tapping stopped at least.
suddenly, Touya grabs the remote from your hand- setting it aside.
“We could.”
Great, now you’re forced to look at your best friend.
“Yeah?” You say barely loud enough for Touya to pick up.
Touya nods, his foot starting to steadily tap again.
You cup Touya’s face with your hands- oh gosh are you really doing this?
Touya places his hands on your lap, truthfully he has no clue where to put them.
the taps get faster.
You and Touya look at each-other for a moment, just to make sure you don’t absolutely ruin your friendship.
More like a “you really wanna do this?” stare.
but hey, you were curious.
so was Touya.
1 + 1 = 2.
Two kissing more specifically.
“Jus’ do it already..” Touya says quietly, his face growing red.
You press your lips to Touya’s, it was..nice? soft? kinda gross.
Touya’s lips were quite soft actually, he’d wear chap stick like he’d wear clothes though- he hated dry lips.
Touya’s hand steadily went to your cheeks as well, only difference was his were a lot warmer.
At some point, Touya’s tapping stopped.
you a Touya didn’t though, it’s normal for friends to experience things together- how is a kiss any different?
Your cheeks felt so warm.
wait no- that’s Touya’s quirk.
You starting patting Touya’s thigh as a signal to chill out.
And he got the memo, only after a minute.
You and Touya were only slightly out of breath- you might have 1st degree burns on your cheeks though.
“M’sorry…?” Touya says with his dumb cracky voice.
“you burned my cheeks.” You say curtly.
Touya groans, “I didn’t know I activated my quirk!”
“I’m never kissing you again.” Your tone gets slightly aggressive.
Touy burned your precious face though- so he deserves it.
“I said I didn’t-“
A sudden laughter breaks through Touya’s speak, one that didn’t belong to him.
You whip your head to the door way only to see Touya’s siblings, Natsuo and Fuyumi.
Natsuo is holding onto his stomach, dying with laughter while Fuyumi looks mildly disappointed- more like embarrassed.
“Touya-nii…” Fuyumi says softly.
Touya’s face goes completely red, even reaching his ears.
“You didn’t see a thing.” Touya says sternly.
Natsuo laughs more as he grabs Fuyumi, “dude we saw everything!”
Fuyumi covers her face and Natsuo starts to re-create the scene.
“Oh-la-la! Y/N please kiss me I’m so desperate!” Natsuo says through his giggles.
You can see steam coming from Touya as he jumps over the couch to get to Natsuo.
Natsuo sees this and starts to book it.
So now you have a wild Touya and a trouble making Natsuo in the house.
Fuyumi looks at you, then runs to her room- poor girl doesn’t even wanna face you.
how are family dinners your invited to supposed to go now?
curiosity kills the cat you suppose.
and you are the cat in this situation.
EP:
“Mrs. Rei, this is absolutely delicious!” You say while crunching down on whatever Touya’s mother made for the night.
Touya hums in agreement, basically halfway through his second plate.
Natsuo chuckles before speaking, “maybe you should ask her for some cooking lessons Y/N- mom’s experienced.”
Rei smiles softly, “thank you, Natsuo.”
Natsuo immediately gains the most devious smile you’ve ever seen in your entire life.
“Maybe some kissing lessons as well, since you and Touya like that too.”
Immediately silence hits the table.
Touya immediately slams his blow onto the table.
Natsuo runs for his life down the hallway as Touya almost jumps over the table to catch him.
As soon as the boys leave the room your met with a stone faced Rei.
you clear your throat.
“Fuyumi can vouch for me, me and Touya would never do something so sinful!”
Rei chuckles softly, “Fuyumi told me when I came home…”
You whip your head to Fuyumi as she takes her leave, doesn’t wanna face your wrath.
you look towards rei again, sweating bullets as you hear Natsuo screaming bloody murder from two rooms over.
“w-we we’re just curious!”
AN: yall need smth after whatever the hell that episode was😭
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tryingtofindava · 4 months
Note
some of the creeps with a cannibalistic reader? :> if thats okayy
── 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐛𝐚𝐥! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫*ೃ༄
(Includes: Jeff the Killer, Eyeless Jack, Ticci Toby, Masky, Hoodie, Nina the Killer.)
: ̗̀➛Back to source
>>Part 2
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╰┈➤ 𝐉𝐞𝐟𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫
He doesn’t hide the fact AT ALL that he thinks it’s absolutely gross.
And he’ll always make that clear to you.
Onetime you were in the woods after offing some poor camper, eating away at their flesh. And Jeff came by because he was on his way back to his hiding spot from the world.
He watches and mocks you the whole time, because he’s an asshole.
“Y/n, that’s fucking disgusting.” (he scoffs while being covered in like 7 different peoples blood…)
Anyways lolz he doesn’t support you :3
╰┈➤ 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤
Whether you’re a cannibal by choice or forced to be (like him) he feels a weird connection to you in that way.
I’d be a liar if I said you two didn’t bond over the fact that you both have the taste for human flesh. (Which is like, a BIG deal for Jack since he isn’t the most social Creep out there.)
He may even share his little human organs with you, and it may as well become your guys usual hang out plan.
╰┈➤ 𝐓𝐢𝐜𝐜𝐢 𝐓𝐨𝐛𝐲
I’m actually sure he was supposed to be cannibal but was changed later on by Kastoway since it was too similar to EJ’s story and stuff. So it was set that he only ate some parts of his victims on rare occasions.
I’m also pretty sure it’s canon that the way he got the gash on his cheek is because he literally gnawed it off because his gloves prevented him from eating away at the skin on his fingers.
So yeah… he’s probably un phased by your desire to eat people. (Not that he’d give a shit in the first place, he’d probably just tease you sometimes about it)
Maybe even on his mini missions he’d take some human parts from his victims for you to scran on.
╰┈➤ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞
Again, another two who find it repulsing-ish.
BUT!!
They don’t make it as obvious as Jeffrey does about finding it icky, though you can still sense their vibe being off ‘cause of your strange addiction.
Sometimes when you eat in the woods they may come across you and watch, though you can’t see their faces from their masks you know that they are silently judging you.
If I’m being completely honest, they’re both more curious about it than anything. They’ll both get over it eventually.
╰┈➤ 𝐍𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫
She’s completely cool and chill about it!!
She canonically dated EJ, so she kinda had to be fine w it lolz.
Her love language is gift giving, and acts of service, so like Toby she definitely brings you humans to munch on.
You want them raw? Okay!! You want ‘em fried? She’s getting the pan out now!
She loves getting her hands dirty for you, and feels no regret what so ever when she ends an innocent person to bring you your dinner!! :)
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Half of this was me babbling lolz
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cozycottagetarot · 2 months
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Your First 'Argument' With Them
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Notes:
This rather light hearted (save one pile) reading explores the cause and resolution of your first significant argument/fight/tiff with your person.
The energies for you and your person could be potentially switched. For a few piles it felt like the reaction could belong to swapped between the two of you.
This was one of those readings where a lot of info only sorted itself out as I did each section so you really have to stick with me on this one haha.
There's some brief language in pile 3 & 4.
This reading is for entertainment purposes only! ✨
LINKS: Reading Masterlist | Dividers | Ko-Fi | Patreon | Paid Readings — Open 🫧
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Pile 1
The Incident/Cause 
Cards: Two of Swords, The World, Queen of Swords, The Chariot 
Your first argument with your person is around a significant and potentially life changing decision that needs to be made. The decision can shape how you two move forward and close out a cycle but the conflict arises because you two have two opposing opinions or desires. There are a lot of different scenarios here however, so keep in mind the details will vary greatly from person to person. It could also be that one person is hesitant while the other is more self-assured. The other scenario I’m picking up on is maybe you (could be them) feel pressured by a time frame in what the decision needs to be made. Another situation that comes to me is being given an ultimatum. In general there’s an energy of stalling and needing to get moving. Sneaky ten of swords was hiding out in the deck! The vibes could be off and hurtful words exchanged. It could be a situation that makes or breaks the relationship.
The Resolution 
Cards: Ace of Wands, Five of Wands, Seven of Wands reversed, Three of Cups, Three of Pentacles 
This might get worse before it reaches a fiery climax and gets better. Quite honestly your person may become more intolerable and you might find yourself fighting to keep your cool. I don’t get a really intense fight though, just being majorly annoyed. You may both turn to your friends to get advice/help or a third party may help you both resolve the conflict. 
In the end, you and your person will try to come up with a solution that works for both of you. They may or may not confess their feelings for you… it depends on your relationship.
Curious about their reaction, your reaction, and the long-term impact on your relationship? 🌟 Dive into the details in the extended version, available to all tiers on my Patreon! 💖✨ Don't miss out! 🌠
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Pile 2
The Incident/Cause 
Cards: Knight of Pentacles, The Lovers, Temperance, Knight of Swords, The Patient Witch, The Magician
The relationship is moving too slowly for someone. One person is comfortable with the pace and the other is like – “okay, um, what are we doing”. The relationship could be what each of you desires but one of you is more laid back and the other is a go-getter… very driven. I’m also getting a cancelled date and one person keeps saying “I want more”. Someone is spoiled by or wants to be spoiled with the other’s love and intention! The other person gives everything, just you know… slowly!
The Resolution 
Cards: Ten of Wands, Page of Swords, Good Luck (Wheel of Fortune) Five of Wands, Ten of Cups 
You two will eventually decide to stop making things so difficult for yourselves. You're only clashing because you can’t see you have to actively figure things out together. The resolution is that things will pick up the pace. It will require you both to turn within though as it seems like the resolution is internal work that in the end pushes you two forward. 
For one of you, it’s about opening up and being vulnerable while for the other it’s about realising you’re allowed to receive. Kind of like the disconnect comes from lack of give and take (it’s there but imbalance). So once that is realised internally it can create a more secure and faster-moving flow. 
Curious about their reaction, your reaction, and the long-term impact on your relationship? 🌟 Dive into the details in the extended version, available to all tiers on my Patreon! 💖✨ Don't miss out! 🌠
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Pile 3
The Incident/Cause 
Cards: The Sun, Ace of Wands, King of Pentacles, The Chariot, Seven of Pentacles 
*If you were drawn to pile two I highly suggest checking that out!
I’ve been fighting for my life on this one Pile 3. I kept doing this pile looking for the source of the first (major) argument or even disagreement but the story wasn’t adding up to anything bad. You two may be a couple that works through disconnects (cause at the point that’s all I can call it) right away. The other piles had arguments with breaks but I get that vibe of you two always working to be on the same page or at least understand each other in the moment. 
But I still need to give you something so I decided to focus on the causes of general conflicts between you two. 
You two may have conflicts/disconnects over expectations of what your lives should look like and even that seems super mild. It’s like ‘maybe life should look like XYZ → but oh wait I’m actually happy with what I have’… you two may have to shed the stories you’ve been told and keep working on what you have together and individually because you’re happy. 
You guys might also be slow to get together as a couple. It felt like a waiting game in one of the previous pulls. Like you’re both hurt from previous experiences but also sure about your feelings for each other but unsure they’re reciprocated. So it’s a ‘will they won’t they’ kind of thing. You may run the risk of being “the one that got away”. 
How Are Conflicts Resolved
Cards: Ace of Cups, Five of Swords, Seven of Wands, Ten of Wands, Seven of Cups 
Conflicts may be so rare and few that you guys would definitely take it to heart. But I’m getting “I choose you you this lifetime and the next”. You two make a conscious decision to be in it together forever. You resolve conflicts through curiosity and a desire to understand each other. It’s like ‘this is the love of my life’ and “I don’t care, we’re getting through this together”. You naturally seek to understand each other and hold one another accountable. 
Curious about their reaction, your reaction, and the long-term impact on your relationship? 🌟 Dive into the details in the extended version, available to all tiers on my Patreon! 💖✨ Don't miss out! 🌠
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Pile 4
‼️ Before you read: This pile has a theme of self confidence and possible anxiety/mental health issues.
The Incident/Cause 
Cards:  Queen of Wands reversed,m Ace of Wands, Good Luck Charm, Nine of Wands, Ten of Swords, Strength 
This feels a bit messy (post-reading– but not really lol)…  someone could have some self-confidence issues here. There’s also some energy of preferring to be alone rather than out with/around other people. 
This fight was ‘bound’ to happen, but at the same time, it’s in your hands? It’s more of a self-fulfilling prophecy. It also has this vibe of being manageable to out of control and needing intervention.  Someone, (likely you but this is one of those piles where the roles could be reversed), could have significant trauma or some anxiety/mental health issues going on. 
Self-love is the issue and it causes a lot of worrying and isolation. It’s so hard to articulate this ‘softly’ which makes it even more challenging. Let's say Person A struggles but Person B can’t see why. In B’s eyes, A is the most gorgeous, passionate, fun, loving person ever. A and B may bicker a lot about the topic but I see this tension swelling and some hurtful things might be said. I think you two may also end up either taking space or separating for a little bit (like days more than weeks). 
The Resolution 
Cards: Page of Swords, Seven of Wands, Knight of Cups, Three of Swords, Queen of Swords, The Chariot 
Your person is going to want to hear your story. You two could end up having a bit of a heart-to-heart. They’re going to work with you to help you get yourself back to a good place again (so supporting you being your own rescuer). They’ll be your accountability partner and cheerleader along the way, standing by your side as you learn to step into your power again. It might happen faster than you think it will, but it doesn’t mean you won’t falter. But when you do you’ll bounce back quicker.
Curious about their reaction, your reaction, and the long-term impact on your relationship? 🌟 Dive into the details in the extended version, available to all tiers on my Patreon! 💖✨ Don't miss out! 🌠
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Where Will All The Martyrs Go [Chapter 11: The Innocent Can Never Last]
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A/N: Below are your guesses…let’s see how you did!!! 🥰😘 Only 2 chapters left 🥳
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Series summary: In the midst of the zombie apocalypse, both you and Aemond (and your respective travel companions) find yourselves headed for the West Coast. It’s the 2024 version of the Oregon Trail, but with less dysentery and more undead antagonists. Watch out for snakes! 😉🐍
Series warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, med school Aemond, character deaths, nature, drinking, smoking, drugs, Adventures With Aegon™️, pregnancy and childbirth, the U.S. Navy, road trip vibes.
Series title is a lyric from: “Letterbomb” by Green Day.
Chapter title is a lyric from: “Wake Me Up When September Ends” by Green Day.
Word count: 5.3k
💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜
Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 🥰
“You could have gone to California with them,” Rio says as he flips open the fuel cap of a black Nissan Frontier, parked in the driveway of a two-story brick house on National Avenue, not far from where Route 95 branches north of Winnemucca like an artery from a heart.
You squint up at the cumulus clouds to avoid meeting his eyes. You keep thinking you’re going to cry and have to suffocate it, drown it, slit its throat. “I didn’t want to.”
“Sure you didn’t.” Sweat runs in rivulets down his face as he slides in the semitransparent siphoning hose, the one with the little pump on it that Jace had when you found him in Iowa. Aemond gave this to Cregan; he kept the hose without the pump for himself. A small, curious sacrifice. You are fanning Rio with a magazine, Bow International. You had grabbed it thinking of Daeron, then remembered he wasn’t here to give it to. “Jesus Christ, it’s so fucking hot…”
“Djibouti was hotter.”
“Djibouti had a beach. And an air conditioning unit in every window.”
Cregan is waiting by the Tahoe and leafing through a guidebook he found at the Maverik gas station. Ice is lying on the ground and panting beside him, her shaggy grey coat filthy with dust and sand. “The town was named for Chief Winnemucca, who was born in the 1820s in what would later become the Oregon Territory. It either means ‘the giver of spiritual gifts’ or ‘one moccasin,’ depending on the interpretation.”
Rio says: “Damn Cregan, you can read?”
Cregan frowns down at the guidebook with feigned regret. “I really wish Trump had built that wall.”
Rio guffaws. “Cregan, man, I told you. I was born here!”
He continues: “Winnemucca was a stop on the transcontinental railroad.”
“Great. Let’s get that up and running again.” Rio groans as he squeezes the pump on the siphoning hose with increasing frustration. “Absolutely nothing. Not a drop.”
“We probably have enough to get to Denio Junction,” you say gingerly, knowing he’s suffering. It has to be over 100 degrees.
“Yeah, and what if there’s no gas there? How the hell are we going to get to Adel, Oregon?”
“We could walk if we have to.”
“85 miles? In heat like this?”
“In basic training we had to run—”
“We had water in basic training, Chips!” he snaps; and Rio never snaps. “And real food, and corpsmen for if we passed out, and also there were no fucking zombies running around eating people, remember that part?!”
You stare down at the dirt. You can’t cry; you can’t waste the liquid.
“Wait, no, no, no, I’m sorry.” Rio lifts your chin so you aren’t able to hide from him. “I’m…you know…I should already be there. I could be in Odessa in six hours, I could be with Sophie and the baby before sundown, and instead we’re stuck here in the desert and I’m thinking…what if what should take hours ends up taking weeks? What if when I get there, I’m too late?”
You nod, you understand. Out on the road, Cregan keeps his face buried in his guidebook, trying to be polite and pretend he can’t hear you.
“And, I’m also thinking…” Rio says, soft and low. “That I don’t want to be the reason why you miss out on a chance at happiness when the world could literally be ending.”
You gaze up at him, dejected, pathetic. “I can’t handle any virgin jokes right now.”
“I know. I wasn’t going to make one.”
“I didn’t want to go with them to California,” you lie. And then a truth: “And I would never leave you. I promised.”
Rio smiles. “You promised not to let me die alone, and I don’t plan on dying. You’ve gotten me most of the way already.” He glances towards the Tahoe. “I think Axe Boy would have rather stayed with them too. When he was asleep last night I heard him mumbling something about Helaena.”
Cregan? Helaena? Interesting. “Aemond doesn’t want me.”
“Oh, come on. You know he and his one eye are sobbing into a can of SpaghettiOs right now.”
“Be nice,” you murmur morosely.
“Why? He can’t hear me,” Rio says. “Look, Aemond’s fucked up. And of course he is. He went from learning how to save lives and deliver babies to watching his friends die horrible, preventable, completely meaningless deaths. That’s gotta suck. It sucked for me, and I barely even knew them, and no one expected me to be able to do anything about it. Aemond’s the one people trusted to protect them, and he couldn’t. So why would he be able to protect you?”
I never wanted Aemond to protect me. I just wanted him to take me away from here, even for a minute, even for seconds, one hushed stolen moment at a time. “I wish I had said something different back in Battle Mountain.” I wish I had told him I love him. But I didn’t, and now it’s too late.
“You deserve to have the whole wholesome normal family thing, the husband and the kids and the warm fuzzy holiday traditions. I know you’ve always wanted that.”
“If I choose the wrong person, I’m going to end up alone and miserable. And I’ll turn into a monster like my mother.”
“Hey,” Rio says, like he’s ready to fight you. And then he uses your real name, something he’s done maybe five times since you met him, just like you almost never call him Bryan. “You will never be like your mother. Okay? It’s not possible. You don’t have it in you. You’re not a parasite, you’re not mean.”
You want to believe him. “Okay.”
Then Rio chuckles. “Actually, you’re going to end up like my mom. Living in the middle of the woods, making your own soap out of goat milk, growing weed and knitting sweaters.”
You smile wistfully. “I have no idea how to knit. I want to build things.” Then you remember something from when you were fishing on Lake McConaughy in Nebraska. “Aegon said I look like someone who knits. Whatever that means.”
“It means you’re from Kentucky.” Then Rio asks, tentative: “So…what do you think about Aegon?”
This seems random. “He’s cool. I like him, obviously. He’s, um…I don’t know how to describe it. He’s so sad but so warm. It’s impossible to feel nervous around him, which is nice.”
Rio nods, giving you a teasing smirk. “Alright then.”
“Why?”
“Well I was just thinking that if he grows up a little more, he might be good for you.”
“Rio, he’s thirty.”
He bursts out laughing. “So give it another decade and he’ll finally be baby daddy material.”
“I’m sure he’ll be preoccupied with his drug dealing and brothel empire by then.”
“You aren’t even the tiniest bit intrigued?”
“I’ve never really thought about him that way.” And there’s another dimension to it that wouldn’t occur to Rio: Aegon is an addict. You know what it’s like to have to depend on somebody like that. You would never allow yourself to fall in love with him, not the way he is now.
Rio sighs and pivots. “You want me to give you a baby?”
Now you’re giggling. Of course, he’s not serious, just like he wasn’t serious when you were trapped on that transmission tower together back in Pennsylvania. “Stop.”
“I’m super tall and charming, and I was a great electrician back when electricity existed, and I have luscious curly hair that you can readily observe since the U.S. Navy isn’t around to make me shave it off anymore.”
“Sorry, I don’t reproduce with Enrique Iglesias fans.”
“You are so racist, and yet I’d still be willing to help you out with a sperm donation. I’d blindfold myself and struggle through it somehow.” He’s grinning, but his dark eyes are kind. “As long as I’m alive, you will always have a family. And Sophie gets that. Her parents were fuckups too. That’s why she’s so close with mine even though they’re insane.”
“They’re exactly the right kind of insane for the way the world is now.”
“Remember when my dad went through his ‘wifi gives you cancer’ phase and would only communicate with me via Republican-president-themed postcards?”
“The Ronald Reagan one was neat. So many eagles.”
“Truly an excessive amount of eagles.” Rio goes for the porch. “I guess we’ll scrounge whatever we can inside and check the rest of the cars on the street before we head north.”
“I ain’t seen any others without the fuel cap already open,” Cregan says from the Tahoe, dispirited but trying not to show it.
“If we end up having to walk, we’re going to need water or Hawaiian Punch or something. A lot of it. Maybe we can find some of that Pedialyte stuff Aemond got for Jace when he was sick.” Rio pounds one closed fist against the front door. “Hey! Anybody home? We’re looking for supplies. Not trying to cause any problems. If somebody’s in there, just give a shout and we’d be happy to keep moving.”
You’ve followed Rio up onto the porch. “If there’s no water inside, canned fruit will work. You can drink the syrup for hydration, and all the sugar gives you calories.”
Back by the Tahoe, Cregan is leaning down to pet Ice. She’s still panting hard, foamy saliva dripping from her muzzle. “Y’all, we gotta get moving,” Cregan says. “Princess needs to be back in the truck with the AC, and I don’t want to waste gas by letting it idle.”
“Yeah, yeah, we’re working on it.” Rio kicks the door once, hard enough that you hear the wood split near the hinges, dry and cracking. He backs up to prepare to give the door another blow, which is all it will take. Then there is a muffled voice from inside the house.
“Get the hell off my property!”
Immediately, you are stunned by the boom of an explosion, shards of wood flying like shrapnel, the steel barrel of a shotgun jutting from the fresh hole in the center of the door. Rio is scrambling off the porch and dragging you with him. With your free hand, you grab your M9 from its holster and begin shooting before the man inside can fire again, before he can kill Rio or Cregan or you. Your bullets pierce through the blackness of the gaping wound in the front door. You hear shrieks of agony; you see flecks of blood painting the wood. Now there are people shooting from the second-story windows, and you feel the wind of bullets clip by as Rio pulls you towards the Tahoe. The engine starts; Cregan is already in the driver’s seat. You return fire until your M9 makes only small, hollow clicks when you pull the trigger. And by then Rio is shoving you into the truck.
“Go, go, go!” Rio yells at Cregan the second he crawls in behind you and slams the door shut. Cregan swerves away from the curb and barrels down the street, tires squealing, gunshots still ringing out from the house. Ice is barking franticly.
“Rio, I’m out,” you say, terrified.
“What?”
“Bullets. I’m out of bullets.”
“We gotta go,” Rio concedes. There are scratches on his cheeks from splinters of wood, sweat turning from clear to blood-tinged pink as it drips down onto his shirt. “We gotta get out of Winnemucca. If we have to walk, we’ll walk. At least there’s no one north of here to worry about for a hundred miles. Not living and not dead either.”
From the backseat, you glance over at Cregan. “Oh my God, Cregan, you’re hurt.”
“I know.” His right forearm is covered in blood. It’s a graze wound, but deep; when he turns the steering wheel, you can glimpse the white of bone as his shredded muscles open like a mouth.
“You need stitches!”
“Oh yeah?” Cregan replies as the Tahoe bumps over corpses in the street, bodies mummified by the wind and the sun. “And which of you two would be better at that, you think?”
“We’ll get supplies to patch you up,” Rio says, peering out the window, searching for someplace to stop. “And enough food and water to last us through the desert. Right there, hop on Route 95, and we’ll find a store at the edge of town before we’re in No Man’s Land.” Cregan jerks the wheel; the Tahoe veers onto Route 95 heading north. Boarded-up houses and graffitied overpasses and gnarled bristlecone pine trees and lifeless traffic lights and looted storefronts pass by in a blur.
You turn to Rio. “What if those people try to follow us?”
“It’ll only take five minutes.”
“Rio…”
“We don’t have enough to drink. If we get stranded in the desert, we’ll die. I’m not dying out there. I didn’t cross 3,000 miles to drop dead just a few hundred away from Sophie.”
He’s right. There’s no other option. North of Winnemucca is a wasteland, a boneyard. “Okay,” you surrender, helping him look for stores. “But we have to be quick.”
“I can be real quick, baby. You’d know that if you took me up on my very selfless sperm donation offer.”
Cregan raises his eyebrows; you can see his reflection in the rearview mirror. “Y’all have a mighty strange relationship.”
Rio is pointing. “Right there, Riverside Grocery & Liquor. Let’s give that a try. Cregan? You see it? By the Taco Bell.”
“Of course you’d be attracted to Taco Bells,” Cregan says as the Tahoe zigzags across the parking lot, but his voice is woozy. Blood pours from the gash in his arm. What if the bullet severed a major artery? What if he’s bleeding to death?
You ask: “Cregan, do you feel okay?”
“I’m alright. Don’t you worry about me, Miss Chips. You got enough worries already.”
“You don’t look alright.”
His eyes meet yours in the rearview mirror; they are fearful. “I think I need to get pressure on it.”
“We’ll take care of you, buddy,” Rio says. And as soon as Cregan shifts the Tahoe into park, Rio is out the door and striding into the small grocery store, his Remington 12 gauge in his hands. It’s unloaded, but still good for blunt force trauma. The glass of one of the front doors has been shattered. Rio steps inside, his boots crunching on broken glass. You are right behind him; Cregan lifts Ice with his uninjured arm so she can get inside without cutting her paws.
Harsh desert sunlight streams in bright enough that you can see reasonably well, dusk or dawn instead of midday. The air tastes like dirt and decay. The shelves of alcohol have been picked clean, but cans and bottles and cardboard boxes have been left strewn haphazardly around the rest of the store. There are several circular racks of souvenir t-shirts: horses, mountains, pine trees, I was a buckaroo on the Cowboy Corridor, #DesertLife, Straight Outta Winnemucca. You yank a white shirt with a rattlesnake on it off its hanger and tie it tightly around Cregan’s bleeding forearm, closing the ragged ends of his wound.
Ice is whining and nudging at Cregan. “There’s one in here,” he warns.
“Yeah, I got it,” Rio says. She staggers out of the stockroom hissing and growling, the flesh on her face almost completely gone, her exposed skull stained with clotted blood, her teeth chattering. Long strands of blonde hair hang in patches from the back of her head. She is wearing a red vest with a nametag on it. Once upon a time, her parents called her Jasmine. Rio strikes the zombie with his Remington so hard it is decapitated, and the corpse crumples to the filthy tile floor as its head rolls over towards the cash register. Then he slings the shotgun over one of his shoulders and begins shopping.
Cregan is tall enough to see the tops of shelves where items have been missed; he pulls down bottles of Snapple, Gatorade, Yoohoo, Jarritos soda and stuffs them into his backpack. You are on your hands and knees sorting through the debris on the floor, everything coated with a layer of dust and sand. You find cans of mandarin oranges, boxes of graham crackers, tuna pouches, and packets of Tylenol. Cregan will need them. He needs more than that, but you can’t give it to him. You’ve never been to medical school. You grab more souvenir shirts to use as bandages later.
Maybe there are doctors in Odessa.
Rio says excitedly from the other side of the store: “Chips, they got Cheddar Whales!”
Maybe there’s a life worth living in Odessa.
“Just hurry up so we can go.”
“Yeah, yeah…” He’s filling his arms with boxes and bottles, making a lot of noise. Ice is pacing and whimpering, panting like she can hardly breathe, drooling gluey strings of saliva. The grocery store is an oven. Cregan pops open a can of Arizona iced tea and pours it into her mouth to be gulped greedily down. Still, Ice’s yellow wolfish eyes dart around the room, vigilant, rattled.
“I think there’s another zombie,” you say, watching her. You reach for your M9 before remembering it’s unloaded.
Cregan replies: “Sure she ain’t just overheated?”
Somewhere close, less than a mile away: gunshots out on the streets of Winnemucca.
“Ready, kids?” Rio says, his arms overflowing, half a Slim Jim hanging out of his mouth like a cigarette.
“Yes sir,” Cregan agrees. The t-shirt you knotted around his forearm is splotched with crimson, but the bleeding appears to have slowed. Fragments of glass shatter as he crosses through the doorway and out into the parking lot, carrying Ice as she struggles and barks.
Rio pauses as he passes one of the other t-shirt racks, circles of metal that gleam like halos. He’s rearranging his supplies so he has a free hand to grab a shirt he likes. There are more distant gunshots outside, and the squealing of tires. In the parking lot, Cregan is starting the Tahoe.
You say distractedly, noticing an empty Twizzlers wrapper on the floor and thinking of Jace: “Rio, let’s go.”
“Hold up, this one has an elephant on it—”
The hand juts out from below the rack and seizes his ankle, claws up his legs, rips and tears at him, grey flayed flesh and screeches from rotting vocal chords, something that used to be a man or a woman and is now only a monster, half a body, nothing from the waist down but shred of black necrotic muscle, skin, intestines, too close for Rio to push away, already clinging to him like graffiti on concrete, like a pair of stainless steel dog tags hanging from his neck. Without thinking, without hesitating, you are across the store and trying to get it off him, screaming as your fingers rake through disintegrating gore, so deep you can feel the zombie’s ribs like rungs of a ladder, trying to get a grip on it, trying to kill it. Now Cregan is back with his axe and he’s hacking at the skull as best he can without hitting Rio, and Ice is barking, and Cregan is yelling for you to get away before you’re bitten, but you don’t listen, you don’t care; all your life you were homesick until you found homes with Rio thousands of miles from where you were born, and if he’s gone then so is the only place you’ve ever belonged. There is a surge of blood, hot and metallic, rot and iron in the air, and you don’t know whose it is.
He can’t be gone. If he’s gone, who am I?
An arm hooks around your waist and drags you backwards, so roughly you lose your breath for a moment and cannot fight them; over your right shoulder, you see a hand holding a Glock. Aemond pulls the trigger and the zombie falls to the floor, a mangle of decomposition and exposed bones, because wherever the others ended up they found bullets and gasoline…and then they came back for you.
Aegon is stumbling over the rubble that litters the floor to get to Rio. You can hear Daeron and Rhaena’s voices out in the parking lot, and the blasts of Rhaena’s Ruger, the revolver she once didn’t know how to use. Cregan is trying to help Rio up, but he can’t stand. He is slumped against bare shelves and holding a hand to his throat, where he’s hemorrhaging from a gaping, ragged wound, torn arteries and lacerated veins. He’s been bitten, but his transformation won’t take long. He’s bleeding out. His dark eyes are on you, and beneath the glassy sheen of catastrophic blood loss is disbelief and fury and grief. He will never see Sophie again; he will never meet his child.
Your voice is a whisper, a phantom. “Bryan…”
“It only takes once, right?” he says, weak and guttural, already fading, blood on his lips. Then his eyes drift to Aemond. “Get her out of here.”
“No!” you shriek as Aemond pulls you towards the door, his arms locked around your waist, his lips to your ear as he begs you to come with him, that you have to leave, that it’s not safe here, that Rio doesn’t want you to see what has to happen next. Aegon is sobbing as he touches Rio’s face. Cregan bows his head; but he’s already looking at the Marlin .22 that hangs by its leather strap from Aegon’s shoulder. “No, I promised, I promised! I promised I wouldn’t let him die alone!”
“He’s not alone,” Aemond tells you, and he doesn’t let go when you struggle, when you scream. Burning sunlight floods over you, and you are in the parking lot. Rhaena and Daeron are shooting down zombies as they lurch towards the grocery store, drawn by the commotion, the symphony of the dead and dying. Luke is using a siphoning hose to fill the Tahoe’s tank with the remaining fuel in the Ford Expedition. Helaena is moving their supplies into the Tahoe, weeping softly to herself, her long ghost-pale hair flowing in the desert wind.
The racks, you think, you remember. You can see Helaena shining the flashlight into your eyes like you’re back on a living room floor in Iowa. I forgot to remind Rio to check under the racks. And now he’s gone.
You’re screaming that it’s your fault as Aemond forces you into the Tahoe, and you don’t care what anyone says to you: Luke trying to tell you that’s not true, Rhaena swearing that you’re safe now. There is a gunshot from inside the grocery store. Your heart and lungs have turned to iron like the anchor of a ship, cold and still and heavy, unmovable, unbearable. You cannot breathe through your sobs; you cannot see, cannot speak. You curl up on a seat and wish you were dead. All your life you have been compelled by a blind belief that there are better places even if you cannot imagine them, that sometimes when it feels like the world is ending the only way out is through. For the very first time, you want to give up. You want to let all the poisons of this earth seep into your bloodstream until they stop your pulse and everything goes quiet, quiet, quiet.
Aemond is pouring bottles of water over you so he can wash away the blood and sand and gore. He is searching your skin for bitemarks. People are climbing into the Tahoe and a key turns in the ignition. The wheels are spinning; shadows fall over your face through the windows as you sail beneath overpasses. You hear voices but not words. You feel Aemond’s hands on you and do not flinch away.
Someone is putting pills in your mouth and telling you to swallow. “What is it?” you ask.
“Tramadol,” Aegon says. “It will take you somewhere else.”
And it does, this poison he doesn’t know you are starving for; it erases the future and the past until you don’t exist, you never have, and this is a relief.
~~~~~~~~~~
Glimpses through fogged vision, disjointed flashes like dreams: Aemond cleaning and suturing Cregan’s arm, Helaena’s fingers threading through Ice’s shaggy grey fur, smoke from smoldering Marlboro Golds billowing from Aegon’s lips and out through an open window, coyotes watching the Tahoe pass from the shoulder of the highway, mountains and barbed wire, clouds and useless power lines, land that turns from flat and vast and vacant to steep hills thick with pine trees, so many they block out the sun.
You are dimly aware that the Tahoe is stopping frequently, long lulls to hunt for gasoline in small towns, one gallon here, three gallons there, discussions over which routes to take as Aegon scrutinizes his map. Aemond is always with you, coaxing you to take sips of Gatorade and nibbles of Ritz crackers, feeding you spoonfuls of chicken noodle soup straight from the can, and each night when you fall into numb unconsciousness in a dead stranger’s bed he sleeps on the floor in case you need him, and eventually you do. You jolt awake from a nightmare, not death but cursed immortality, a bite he missed somehow that turned you into a monster, into a murderer, your raw skin and muscles sloughing off your bones.
“You’re fine, you’re fine, look at your hands,” Aemond says, taking your wrists and holding them gently. “No bites. You’re going to be okay, I promise. Hey, hey…” He cradles your face, he pleads for you to believe him. “I swear to God, you’re going to be okay.”
“It should have been me,” you whisper in the red glow of the candlelight. “I don’t have a family that would miss me if I was gone.”
“Yes you do,” Aemond says fiercely; and it takes your drugged, horrorstruck mind a moment to realize who he means.
The next day the Tahoe runs out of gas, and you know this because Aemond wakes you with a palm resting lightly on your forehead and an apology sighed through your hair. “What’s wrong?” you murmur.
“We have to get out and walk for a while. Can you do that?”
You force yourself to sit up, blinking at him. “Where are we?”
“Kingvale, California. In the Sierra Nevada Mountains.”
“We’re going to the beach house,” you realize.
“Yeah,” Aemond says, smiling a little. “Yeah, we are. We’re going home.”
On Donner Pass Road, following in the centuries-old footsteps of doomed westward migrants, someone always walks with you as you shuffle along in a daze. Aemond tells you about California, Rhaena reads aloud from Mockingjay, Ice licks your knuckles, Aegon talks endlessly about golf and yachting even when you can’t respond. His burned leg is still bandaged, but healing, and he’s found a Converse sneaker a few sizes too big to wear on his left foot; Aemond treats and wraps his wounds each morning and night, and Rhaena observes and takes notes so she can learn how to do it.
One afternoon just north of Beale Air Force Base, Daeron sneaks a Marlboro Gold out of Aegon’s backpack when no one is watching and lights it as he lingers in the back of the group. Aegon smells the smoke immediately and whirls, runs to him, snatches the cigarette from between Daeron’s lips and stomps it into the pavement.
“You’re not going to be like me!” Aegon shouts at him in the middle of the road. “Goddammit, you’re going to be safe, and you’re going to be happy, and you’re going to know that people care about you because I’ll break your fucking arm if I ever see you smoking again. You don’t get to poison yourself. You’re going to live to be a hundred years old. Got it?”
“Got it,” Daeron echoes, startled, petrified; and then Aegon hugs him, hanging on for a very long time.
~~~~~~~~~~
It is midnight in Meridian, a miniscule town founded in the 1850s on the banks of the Sacramento River, a relic from a time when travel meant ferries and railroads and wagon trains. Here, well outside the state capital, there are no sounds except the breeze through the trees—blue oaks, sycamores, willows, white alders—and the hoots of owls. The house is old, built in the 1950s or 60s, creaking steps and a screened-in front porch where Cregan and Daeron are playing Uno while keeping watch. The moon is new and invisible. The stars are bright.
Aemond appears in the doorway of your room. You are on the edge of the bed and staring at the wallpaper, flickering candlelight and scenes of galloping horses. Aemond is not letting you have any more Tramadol. He’s also not letting anyone load your Beretta, although you saw a box of 9mm bullets in Helaena’s burlap messenger bag. Maybe he’s worried you’ll try to shoot yourself. Maybe he’s not too far off.
He closes the door, crosses the room, and sits down on the bed beside you. In the firelit quiet, Aemond says: “I’m so sorry. I don’t know how to help you.”
“I can’t stay here. Take me somewhere else.”
At first, he doesn’t understand what you mean. Then you reach for him—for a life raft, for something to tether you to the earth—and the lines of your palm press against his scar, flesh he stitched back together himself, proof he can heal people, a reminder of how temporary any of you could be. Aemond lays his hand over yours and closes his eye, holding you there against his face, feeling your warmth and your forgiveness, your need to be close to him in a way that is suddenly so uncomplicated. There is no fear left in you. Perhaps there’s nothing left at all.
Aemond kisses you, and there are blooms of golden light through your darkness like what you call lightning bugs and he says are fireflies. You are entangled on the bed together, and all the sounds still ricocheting in your memory—screams, gunshots, bloodlust, hunger, anarchy—fade until they cease to exist. He is touching you, and you can feel lost pieces of yourself returning to you like rain soaking through parched earth, faith and resolve and desire. And now, and now…
Now Aemond is taking you far, far, far away, to bottomless blue water you can drown in, to where Diego Garcia lies marooned in the middle of the Indian Ocean, to the sun-glinting waves off the coasts of Chinhae, Corpus Christi, Key West, the Horn of Africa. He is between your thighs, and you want him through the pain, a razor-sharp fullness that seems so immaterial and so fleeting; and you lie to him over and over again because if he knows he’s hurting you he’ll stop, and in this world one cannot assume there will be second chances. Aemond stills once he’s inside you, giving you time to adjust but also overwhelmed by the intensity of it, his hands in your hair and trembling all over, kissing your face as the pain bleeds away and leaves a shade of craving you’ve never felt before, something deep and indistinct, something intangible like a spell or a myth. You move first, rolling your hips with a slow, cautious rhythm, and only then does Aemond follow you. It’s in his voice, in the reverence of his hands, in his iris like a clear secretless sky; you have taken him far away too.
“I love you,” Aemond says afterwards as his head rests on your belly, your fingers tangled in his damp hair and your skull hushed like calm seas. “And I can’t pretend I don’t anymore.”
“Good. I wouldn’t want you to.”
And in the morning, there is something different about the world: a hopefulness that makes you want to wake up, a radiance like moonlight on the wave crests of the Indian Ocean.
256 notes · View notes
punkpandapatrixk · 5 months
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❣️How Abnormal Are You in Love? ♦︎ Timeless Pick A Card
Don’t be too hard on yourself with this PAC. Everybody in this world’s pretty much abnormal anyway. We all want something that’s extremely rare in this world: Love. Sometimes, we go crazy after mistaking shit for Love. But we all heal. Eventually, we all learn to love more healthily and sanely. And really, that’s all that matters. The crazy is also part of the character development~♥︎
☆♪°・.
‘Hey, actually, when was it that I began to realise that there’s no such thing as forever? Even so, I’m prouder than anybody else about the fact that the days we spent together were at least not a lie.
Even though it’s true that the length of time we have lived is only slightly different, just the fact that we met, that we loved, though we may never love each other again… I won’t forget.
Hey, why do I still want you by my side, thinking that I won’t do without you, even though this is hurting me so much? Even so, I became a person who could be grateful for the smallest things in life. It’s because, even the most casual of words were so meaningful between us.
Because we met, because we loved, though we may never love each other again…I’ll be fine with turning all of it into proof that I’ll survive, whilst facing all of truth and reality.
I’m just glad that we met. I’m just glad that we loved. Though we may never see each other again… I won’t forget.’
☆♪°・.
Those are words from Ayumi Hamasaki’s legendary song, LOVE ~Destiny~. At some point in Life, Ayumi said in an interview, ‘I loved one man so much that I destroyed myself.’ I can’t help but think this song could be about…it? Maybe hahah Just a vibe, gals~♡
SONG: LOVE ~Destiny~ by Hamasaki Ayumi
MOVIE: Snakes and Earrings (2008)
[PAC Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 3]
[Patreon] [Paid Readings]
☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.
Pile 1 – What I Can’t Let Go Of, Really, Is My Pride…
VIBE: kiss by Chara
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what is, Love? – 4 of Swords
Well, it seems quite obvious your past was somewhat chaotic. I think throughout childhood you felt like you were crossing a battlefield or had to fight the stormy seas all by yourself. Because of this, you deeply crave a Love that can put an end to all of those noises. In fact, it’s only fitting. Deep down you’ve always known that Love is something that’s pure, sweet and gentle; that it’s supposed to put you at ease. You understand that the world is in chaos because nobody has Love in their hearts.
You, never wanted to be like those grownups who were fighting with their own spouses. Even if you’re young, you feel like an Old Soul—the only one who seems to truly understand what Love is and is not. And you see that 99% of people literally don’t know what Love is, let alone how to love right. And you’re afraid. What if you can’t find that one person who can love you right?
Deep in your subconscious, you have these standards and ideals you desperately want to maintain. But nobody you’ve ever met seems to understand where you’re coming from. What you want is something so pure. People are rarely pure of heart, so nobody gets it. And it feels incredibly lonely. And at some point, you might’ve begun to doubt if your standards are even fair…
why do you chase, Love? – King of Wands Rx
So you grew up a bit and began to wonder what might happen if you lower your standards…a bit? You want to experience passion, right? You’re seeing all these peers around you kissing and holding each other and you crave that, too. You know very well it’s not like they’re in love—they’re just silly, infatuated, hormonal fuckers; but you wonder how it would feel to be intimate with someone. To actually have someone want you like that. To be wanted. To be held. To be kissed. To be…loved. No matter how shallowly.
Now you’re willing to look for someone passionate. You could try with a puzzling character. You like that kinda shit. Any kind of an intriguing fucker with some semblance of a mystery; making you curious to dive deep into their side of crazy. How do I figure out your particular brand of bullshit? Anybody you can’t immediately figure out would excite you to a point of insanity. And you thought this was happiness. You thought, this level of excitement surely must be happiness. Perhaps…even Love? Otherwise…
How do you explain this feeling that suddenly strikes, rattling your heartstrings, making you realise that there’s somebody in this world you’d want to care for other than yourself? Just the idea that you even fantasise about growing older with this mysterious fucker… How is this not, Love? And if this isn’t Love…what is? How else are people supposed to know happiness if this excitement alone isn’t enough?
what happens when Love, dies? – 8 of Cups Rx
To begin with, you’re not one to trust easily. It takes a lot for you to allow someone to see your vulnerable side. And when you go in, you go all in. It may not feel like it immediately because you’re cautious, but once you’re in…because you feel sure of someone…you’re in deep. Too deep it feels like you’re drowning in this whole situation, if anything. And you’re proud of how much you’re able to give.
And…you’re generally proud of your boundaries and the standards and ideals you’ve imposed upon yourself and others. So, the fact that you’ve given so much, revealed so much to someone who wouldn’t be there for life, is beyond frustrating. It’s world-shattering, at least. What have I been in this situationship/relationship for if it ain’t gonna last?!?! I can’t just let it die like that! Maybe I’m doing something wrong?! I must’ve! Lest none of this would’ve happened…
When Love dies, it feels so shameful. It’s a shame you trusted the wrong fucker. It’s a shame someone was able to see you that vulnerable. It’s disgusting that you thought this was The One. What was I thinking? Now everything becomes clear. It’s not the loss of that person’s Love you’re crying about. If you’re being honest now, you couldn’t care less that such a loser’s gone from your world. If anything, it’s such a relief. It was just the shock from knowing you made a mistake that made you cry… It’s OK now.
MY HEART, MY PRIDE🔻💜
sacrifices I’d made – Green Magus (John Magus)
I’m glad I was able to love – Priestess of Ambition
Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸
☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.
Pile 2 – I Can’t Tell If I’m Passionate or Just Immature
VIBE: Boys & Girls by Hamasaki Ayumi
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what is, Love? – Ace of Pentacles Rx
To begin with, you’re not exactly a rational person. Not saying you’re dumb! You just have a lot of passion for something that’s unexpected or foreign. You like mysteries and you aren’t afraid to dip your toe in uncharted waters. This desire could’ve developed from having a childhood that felt constricted tho. I think you grew up surrounded by so many rules and laws and forbidden things and that’s how you developed a taste for, DANGER~
It’s exciting, from time to time, to think about throwing all your caution to the wind and breaking all rules. You want to disappoint. If you’re being honest, you’re damn tired of following everybody’s whims and concerning yourself with their expectations. What about what I want?? You want to live. You want to feel alive. There are so many exciting things outside of your everyday Life, why can’t you have any of that? At some point, you could’ve dreamt of being rescued from your Tower by a handsome daredevil of any kind of a fucker.
If that fucker happens to be handsome and rich, even better. But that doesn’t really matter. You just want someone brave enough to approach you and actually uproot you from your boring Life. Surely, Love can do that to a person…? I don’t need stability, let alone predictability; what I want is a romantic hero who’ll take me on a grand adventure of Love! And if that daredevil happens to be dumb…
why do you chase, Love? – 9 of Swords
In many ways, you’re totally not an innocent person. You want to hurt. If whoever daredevil tries to fulfil your fantasies of being rescued from your miserable Tower happens to be dumb, you’re gonna be having a field trip! XD You want to terrorise and traumatise a person, really. It’s vengeance for all the years that you were serving others. Now, it’s your time to be served. It doesn’t even matter if they don’t worship you. You’re ready to find another dumbfuck to toy with. You’re hardly ever sincere anyway~
Why bother with sincerity? Ever since you were a kid, you’ve observed that none of the adults you knew was ever sincere. What even is Love? I think you know of it conceptually. But what exactly is its purpose? What exactly is so good about it? And how? How exactly must one be in order to attain it? You don’t believe in it some days. You deeply crave it some days. You could die for it some days. You want others to die for your Love most days.
Life is confusing. Love is confusing. Sex is easy. Money is easy. Food and jewelleries are easy. Let’s live easily. Life is exhausting if you think too much about everything that could go wrong. I’m done feeling terrible about my own existence, so I want someone to spin me around and make me forget. That’s ideal. Is generally your motto when chasing… Love♡
what happens when Love, dies? – 8 of Wands Rx
You don’t care about it. You don’t particularly care about losing people. It’s expected. If anything, because you’re never serious with quite anybody anyway, ghosting is the best way to go about it. You’re the type to ghost, block, and you don’t even mind if you’re the one ghosted or blocked. Basically, you just don’t want any contact with someone you’ve lost interest in anyway. So that only makes it easier for you.
In many ways, I think you sometimes regret being this kind of a callous person. There are days you wonder if you’ll become someone more sincere. You’ve wondered what it would take to actually love someone. To actually be loved back. Surely that must be so nice. You want to be happy, honestly. But it feels like a distant daydream. You don’t particularly understand how two people can be happy living together. After all, you find people exhausting most of the time.
All you know is that you’ve lived with yourself for the longest time. And if you have to compromise or sacrifice anything…you’re not willing. You’ve sacrificed shit before, a looong time ago, and you got nothing back in return. You gave someone a rose and they gave you back thorns and strangled you with it. Surely that can’t be happiness. Two people who don’t know how to love can’t be happy together. Life is better lived alone.
MY HEART, MY PRIDE🔻❤️
sacrifices I’d made – Red Alchemist (John Dee)
I’m glad I was able to love – Priestess of Innocence
Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸
☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.
Pile 3 – Damn, Why’s Everybody Crying for Love?
VIBE: Sunglasses by Utada Hikaru
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what is, Love? – 2 of Cups Rx
Uhm…you’re a comical Pile for sure. Your psychology is so complex, although it’s also super straightforward (to you), but some people are not gonna have an easy time figuring out if you’re sincere or not. Most of us have got a lot of exposure to tragical romance, right? A lot of people get deep and insane in Love. And here you are wondering why everybody’s crying for Love. Why is everybody suffering in the name of Love? That’s not Love. People are silly for falling continuously for the wrong people. It’s all a Game for them. Me? I don’t play games.
But you do! Everybody does when it comes to falling in Love, to various extents. That’s what’s really fun about falling in Love. If you could face yourself, you’d realise you have a bit of a God-complex within this context. In the sense that…because Love and romance actually aren’t such a big deal to you, and somehow, you have an almost all-too-natural inclination to attract the right people, you can’t really empathise with those who cry in the name of Love.
For some though, if the above doesn’t really resonate, you’re the type that has an innate understanding that you must protect yourself from falling into those tragical romantic setups. You have a highly developed sense of boundary and you keep high standards for what kind of a romantic relationship you want. You’re kinda similar to Pile 1 in this case, but you most likely haven’t experienced sacrificing your standards for, EXPERIENCE~
why do you chase, Love? – 10 of Wands
In comparison to certain types of people in the world, you’re not exactly a dreamy type. When it comes to relationships you think straight towards building a matrimony with someone. You’re a traditionalist in a sense. You’re the based kid who knows that a girlfriend-boyfriend relationship is a training ground for a marriage. You think long-term. You’re realistic like that. But the problem is…you’re totally missing out on the passion of Love itself.
You don’t really see your partner(s) for the person—the Human—that they are. You care only for the practical, pragmatic facts surrounding their reputation or status or whether or not their physical appearance is decent enough. Stuff like that. And the dreamy ones who look at you, look at you with a pang of sadness in their chest, for although you seem responsible and blessed…you appear to them as someone who looks at another with an eye of business.
You’re the type that thinks love is an investment. An investment of attention, affection, time and money, and all that shit. That’s not Love; that’s something to be exchanged at the market. The dating market, OMG~
‘Freedom and love go together. Love is not a reaction. If I love you because you love me, that is mere trade, a thing to be bought in the market; it is not love. To love is not to ask anything in return, not even to feel that you are giving something—and it is only such love that can know freedom.’ – Jiddu Krishnamurti
what happens when Love, dies? – 6 of Pentacles
When Love dies, you celebrate. You’re wise enough to know that Life doesn’t end just because you broke up with somebody, even in terms of friendship. You’re spiritually mature enough to know you’ve learnt from the experience, and now, you’re just going to prepare for the next big thing to experience. Life goes on without a hitch like that for you, for the most part. I can’t tell if you’re really that spiritually mature or you just don’t give a fuck about emotions LMAO
Not saying you’re a bad person, btw. It just seems like you haven’t got a lot of crazy in your birth chart or that you haven’t experienced a lot of sorrows and soul-shattering heartbreaks, so…it’s kinda just a matter of not having, PERSPECTIVE? Coupled with the fact that you take Life very unseriously seriously…? Like, you’re serious about not being an asshole and wanting to do the socially right thing, but in doing so, you become an annoying insincere jackass in the lives of those who have (or will) dated you XDD
Basically, you’re not the type to get super crazy heartbroken when a relationship ends. You’ve got all of these other blessings anyway. Why would you focus on just the negative, right? In a sense, I believe that’s an incredible spiritual maturity which others are still struggling to figure out XD But yeah…rather than this being something abnormal about you, I think it’s just that your Higher Self designed for you not to experience the dramatic highs and lows of immature romance HAHAH
MY HEART, MY PRIDE🔻🧡
sacrifices I’d made – Gold Alchemist (Roger Bacon)
I’m glad I was able to love – Priestess of Luck
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flowersandbigteeth · 7 months
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Now I’m thinking about how cute of a story it’d be if a human woman reader had a preference towards monster men, but she kept getting used by a lot of monster fetishists to fill their own fantasies. Getting her heart broken constantly as they didn’t see her as a being with real feelings. And eventually she gives up…But of course x monster comes into her life and tries his best to court her cause he actually does love her and see her as a person. Reader of course is very jaded and thinks he’ll use and abuse her too, just like all the others.
If you’re still interested in writing somber stories with a happily ever after in the end, something like this could be fun to explore. The ugly exploitive relationship dynamics taken onto human women by monster men.
Like just imagine reader is sitting in a park, having a picnic, a monster comes up to her, is pleasant, and reader thinks that this is going to be “the one” finally, and gets her heart broken again when he asks her for a one night stand. Or even worse…hands her a card to work at a human x monster exclusive private fetish club…
Um...so I ended up with something close to this, but kind of with a different spin. I've been wanting to do a mothman for soooooo long and this just came together in the right way. So here he is ^_^
Mothman (Roth) x f reader
Word Count: 9.5K
General Plot: Your gargoyle crush asks you out on a date and things don't go as planned.
TW: nsfw mothman smut, moth genetalia, a lot of teeth, kidnapping, sexy pheromones, a bit of violence, reader being tied up and gagged, revenge, mating and soft yandere vibes, bad boyfriends
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“Five, ten, fifteen…fifteen,” you sighed counting your tips as you sat on the curb outside the kitchen of the Italian restaurant you worked at. 
Tears bubbled in your eyes as you realized you hadn’t made nearly enough to cover the rent you were already late on. 
“How you doing mite,” a deep voice rumbled behind you. 
You heard a squeak and then a thunk as Tyre, the chef, dumped some trash. Wiping your eyes, you peered up at him, trying to hide the redness on your cheeks. Tyre was a handsome gargoyle with slate gray skin and piercing blue eyes. He smirked as your eyes met. Sniffling, you tried to clean up your face. 
“Nothing, nothing, I’m fine.” 
He glanced down at the odd dollars and some change in your hand. 
“Bad night?” 
You sighed. 
“It’s always a bad night.” 
He scratched his chin, eyes traveling from the top of your head to the slip-proof shoes you had to wear. 
“There’s someplace I ought to take you,” he said, eyes taking on a predatory gleam. “You like monsters, right?” 
You blushed, unsure what to say now that your secret wish seemed like it might be coming true. You’d always had a crush on Tyre. He was big and strong with a rakish smile that made all the waitresses swoon. 
“Um…yeah, I guess.”
“Good,” he said, grinning. “You’re off tomorrow night. I saw it on the schedule.” 
You were going to beg for another shift from one of the other waitresses, but if you were only going to make a few bucks, you figured you couldn’t pass up the chance for a date with your crush. 
“Yeah,” you murmured, your breath a gasp. 
He pulled a phone from an apron pocket and handed it to you. 
“Put your address in here. I’ll pick you up. Wear something pretty.” 
Overcome, you could hardly speak, typing your address and phone number into the phone. 
“See you tomorrow night, mite,” he winked before walking back inside. 
The door slam made you jump, but your heart was already pattering. Tyre had finally noticed you! Ever since you’d started that job, you’d been in love with him. It was true. You did like monsters, but not in a weird way. You were curious, but you were too shy ever to ask Tyre any questions about himself. You didn’t want him to think you were a weirdo fetishist trying to get in his pants for a thrill. But finally, he’d noticed you and asked you on a date! 
Despite the lack of money in your pocket, you hopped up from the curb with a pep in your step. Maybe something was finally going right for you for once. 
When you arrived home, you frowned at the yellow notice taped to your door. 
EVICTION NOTICE: VACATE THE PREMISES WITHIN 15 DAYS OR YOU WILL BE REMOVED
Your breath caught in your throat, and you wondered if you should call Tyre and cancel your date. Walking inside, you frowned. Your apartment was small, if you could even call it an apartment. It was only one room with no kitchen or bathroom. You had to use the common toilet down the hall, and you either ate food you brought home from the restaurant or cooked noodles on your hotplate. Still, you couldn’t even afford this little closet. 
Where were you supposed to go? Pulling out the crumpled fifteen dollars, you stuffed it in the large mug with all your tips. You already knew how much was inside. You counted it over and over again every night, hoping it would magically bloom to a higher sum. 
One hundred and fifteen dollars. That’s how much you had to figure out a new home with. While tears bit at your eyes, your feet were exhausted from running around all day, so you flopped on your dipping air mattress and fell asleep. 
You woke to the next morning to your phone buzzing and grinned at the message on the screen. 
“Pick you up at 9.” 
Scooping up the phone, you beamed. As you dropped it on your chest, you indulged yourself in a quick fantasy. You’d go on a date, Tyre would fall madly in love with you, and then you’d move into his flat, have his little gargoyle babies, and everything would turn out just fine. This had to have happened for a reason, right? All afternoon, you skipped around your apartment, trying on your meager array of outfits for just the right one. 
When 9 came around, you sat on the edge of your bed, checking and rechecking the message. 9, he did say 9, right? Right. He’ll be here. 
Thirty minutes later, there was a heavy knock on the door. You tripped over yourself to answer it, eyes lighting up the moment you met the cool blue on the other side. He looked you over, a meaty hand braced against the doorframe, showing off his massive biceps. 
“Look at you, mite,” he said, brushing a curl of hair from your face. “You clean up nice.” 
“Ah, thanks, Tyre. It’s nothing really,” you half whispered, words having a difficult time making themselves past your lips. 
“Come on,” he said, taking you by the arm. “You’re gonna have fun where we’re going.”
“Where are we going?” you asked, from the inside of Tyre’s Denali, as he cruised down a dark alley. 
You had only just realized it was a little late to be going to a restaurant, so where was he taking you? He only smirked at you, eyes glittering in the dim vehicle. 
“You’ll see,” was all he would say. 
You should have been concerned, but the truth was you were down bad. You were about to be evicted, had hardly any friends, and no boyfriend. Your last situationship with a werewolf had been a humiliating disaster. You needed this. He pulled into a parking lot, flashing a black card, and a gate lifted, allowing you inside. 
“Here we are,” he said when he parked, circling the car to help you out. 
When he’d set you on the ground, he frowned for a moment, scrubbing his chin. 
“Let’s’ fix this,” he said, grabbing the tight skirt you were wearing and hiking it up your hips so it was more of a mini skirt. Then he yanked on the neck of your sweater, pushing it down over your shoulders.  
“What? Where are we going?” you asked, getting a little more concerned. 
He only looked at you lazily, reaching a hand down to smudge the makeup at the corner of your eyes more. 
“A private club. Freaky girls like you love this shit,” he assured you, though he was becoming less and less assuring. 
What did he mean by “freaky girls”? You were just a normal girl. You liked reading books and cooking when you had the chance. There was nothing “freaky” about you at all. 
Grabbing your shoulders with his big hands, he shoved you forward through the dark lot. Around you, large, monster-sized, luxury vehicles were parked in neat rows. When you reached an odd metal door, he knocked with his knuckles. A hatch slid open, and bright green eyes peered out. 
“What do you want?” 
They narrowed on Tyre. 
“You’re not welcome here.” 
You gulped, cheeks reddening, looking between the pair of eyes and Tyre. 
“Tell Roth I brought him a new girl,” he said, “Told him I’d pay my debt.” 
The eyes flicked down to you for a moment, and the door squeaked open. 
“Tyre, what is going-?” 
You didn’t get a chance to speak as the large, man with pale skin and green eyes snatched your wrist up and dragged you away from him. 
“Tyre! Tyre!” you half shouted, confused as he jerked you down a dark hall, but looking back, the gargoyle only smiled and waved at you. 
“Stop screaming. You’re disturbing the ambiance,” the man holding you in his firm fist, hissed. 
When he opened his mouth, you could see sharp fangs framing straight white teeth. The rest of your words caught in your throat as he dragged you through the club. 
On a large platform in the center, human women dressed in skimpy outfits danced on stage to oddly alluring music. Where the bright stage lights didn’t shine, you could see monsters of all kinds with human women clinging to them engaged in a frightening variety of sexual activity. 
Three gargoyles were sharing one woman, splayed on a table. A centaur had a woman strapped to him with some sort of harness, and your eyes popped when you saw the way he used her. Your heart started to race as you put two and two together. 
You’d heard about these clubs. Places where well-paying monsters could play around with human women to fulfill their fetish fantasies. Yes, you liked monsters, but you would have never stepped into a place like this, not for all the money in the world! You experienced enough creepy fetishists as a waitress. It seemed the only time anyone offered you any real money was to take you home for a night of their own entertainment. 
Betrayal cut you to the core, remembering Tyre’s words. He’d brought you here to repay a debt! He never had any plan of dating you at all! You were nothing more than a trinket to be traded! 
Panic startled you to your senses, and you started to fight the vampire holding you. 
“LET ME GO! LET ME GO!” you screamed, jerking so hard on your wrist that you thought you might break it. 
He narrowed his eyes at you. 
“Jesus, that bastard. He tricked you to come here, didn’t he?” he hissed, frowning. 
He paused, thinking for a second, and for a moment, you thought he might let you go. 
“Still, I’d better take you to Roth and see what he wants to do with you. Can’t have you running off to the cops and blowing up our whole operation.” 
Clubs like these weren’t exactly legal. Along with the girls, they usually sold drugs and were the sort of place where you could hire a shady person to do below-board jobs.
To silence your screams, and to the amusement of a few of the monsters standing nearby with drinks, he slipped the tie from around his neck and tied it tightly around your head, before he stripped off his belt and used it to secure your hands. Then he flopped you over his broad shoulder, carrying you out of the larger room up a set of stairs. You bit on the gag, desperately trying to saw away at it with your teeth, but it was no use. 
You couldn’t see, bouncing on his shoulder, but you heard a door open, and then you saw it shut. 
“Tyre brought you a girl, boss,” he said. 
Suddenly, he flopped you on the floor, forgetting you were a fragile human. You squealed as you hit the carpet hard, pain radiating up your side. Looking up, you froze in fear. The room was dim, the edges hardly visible, the only light a small lamp on a large wooden desk. Peering past the light, you met the gaze of two glowing, red orbs on the face of a dark body you could hardly make out. All you could tell was that it looked large. 
“Why’s she tied up?” 
The voice was almost a hiss, like silk sheets rubbing together. 
“Tyre tricked her into coming here.” 
The orbs disappeared for a moment, then appeared again along with a long sigh. 
“That idiot.” 
“What do you want me to do with her? Dump her? Put her on the floor? She’s pretty enough. She’ll make us some money.” 
Your heart pounded, as your future was being discussed without you. Dump her? 
“Leave,” the voice barked, sounding irritated. 
You whimpered as you heard the heavy footsteps of the vampire leaving and the door slamming behind him. There was a rustling, and the big body behind the desk grew much larger. It wasn’t a shape you recognized, two large protrusions arching over either side of its head and then two more feathery-looking ones on top. Heavy steps echoed in the quiet room as it rounded the furniture and loomed over you. 
A clawed hand emerged from the darkness, clutching your chin, slowly turning it from side to side as his red eyes examined you. 
“Hmm. A little flame,” he purred. 
You tried to scream again, but all that came out was a muffled whimper. 
The protrusions jumped as the creature chuckled. The monster kneeled down next to you, and only then, you could make out his features, just barely. His neck was thick and fuzzy, as was his body, the angular slabs of muscles softened by a coating of black down. Up close, you could see the two side protrusions were actually silver wings, and the ones on top, were elegant antennae. They twitched as he looked you over. His facial features were invisible behind more black fuzz.
“I’ve been wanting a pet,” he said more to himself than you. 
The red orbs narrowed to slits. 
“Do you know what we do at this club?” he asked. 
You’d gotten a pretty good idea when the vampire gave you the impromptu walk-through. So you nodded. 
His lips cracked, and jagged white teeth glinted at you. 
“Good.” 
Clawed fingers slipped through your hair, scraping your scalp. 
“You’ll be well fed and kept, but you are my pet. Mine.” 
You let out another muffled squeal, shaking your head as tears tumbled down your cheeks. A thumb slid through the wetness before traveling to his red tongue. 
“Mmm,” he said, smirking. “Even your tears are sweet.” 
By that point, you were hyperventilating into your gag, the world getting spinny as you panicked. You’d started your night daydreaming about gargoyle babies, and now you were being adopted as some kind of fuck pet for a monster boss. Your breaths grew increasingly shallow until the darkness writhing at the edges of your vision merged into a large black spot, and the world went silent. 
You jerked awake by the sound of screaming. The stone floor beneath your cheek was cold, so you sat up abruptly, only to awkwardly flop over onto your side. You were still gagged, but now you were bound by your ankles, as well as your wrists. The room you were in was dark except for a small lamp hanging from the ceiling. It put out just enough light to see the large figure of the mothman who’d taken you as his pet and an orc you didn’t recognize. You shrank back against the wall behind you, immediately afraid of what would come next, but their attention wasn’t on you. 
Another scream pierced the air, making you wince. It sounded almost like…Tyre. 
“Please! Please! She came willingly, I swear!” he said, his tone frantic, all the aloof coolness you’d crushed on erased. 
“Did you tell her what we do here before you brought her?” the orc barked.
“She was dying to get her cunt pumped with monster cock. All those girls love that shit,” he spat. “She’s just a whore like the rest of them.” 
“Tyre?” you murmured, but it only came out as a quiet grunt behind the gag. 
Roth nodded at the Orc and you heard chain rattle, then a crunch as he whipped the heavy metal into Tyre’s face. For a moment, you almost felt redeemed. Like Roth might care about your honor, but his next words evaporated that thought. 
“You know I don't like liars, Tyre,” he hissed, his voice still terrifyingly quiet and emotionless. “You brought me a problem. Now I've got to tie up a bunch of loose ends.” 
You were shocked Tyre could still speak, though his words garbled. 
“She's a slut! She wants it! Just ask her! She was ready to open her legs for me for nothing!” 
Tears poured down your cheeks, hearing the gargoyle you'd been shyly admiring for a year now finally revealing what he really thought of you. He was just like your last monster “boyfriend” who’d dumped you when he realized you were more than just a doll to play with. 
One night after hooking up, his phone started going nuts while he was sleeping. Unable to help yourself, you'd glanced at his texts, humiliated to find he'd been detailing his conquest to his packmates. You were just a joke. 
A “monster-cock hungry slut,” in his words. You stupidly let him sleep peacefully through the night, only asking him about it in the morning. You remembered his sharp green eyes full of humor and his disgusting sneer when you'd confronted him. 
“What'd you think this was? You really think a weak little human like you is good for anything but a quick fuck? Don’t fool yourself. You wanted my knot like a dirty little bitch in heat and I gave it to you. End of story.” 
You broke into big, ugly, wet sobs as your whole world collapsed around you. Your body shuddered against the gritty cold floor, tears forming dark spots on the surface. 
Across the room Roth’s antenna twitched. He gave the orc a look before crossing the room to crouch down next to you. He dug a thick hand into your hair, lifting your head. Your tears blurred his glowing eyes to wobbly blobs. 
“You're crying for him? Is he telling the truth? Are we wrong to punish him?” 
You sniffed, whimpering and shook your head. He dropped your hair abruptly, the gesture suddenly becoming something close to comfort. He patted your head a little stiffly as if he wasn't sure what to do with you. 
You watched him blink, looking away for a moment before he scooped you up, curling his wings around the two of you. He carried you back across the room, turning your face into his soft chest before he spoke. 
“I want his teeth when you're done with him,” he hissed at the Orc. 
Tyre begged behind you, his voice brassy.
“She's lying! That bitch is lying!” 
Roth didn't even flinch, striding confidently out of the room. As he carried you down a dark hall you heard screams following you until they finally faded. 
Roth walked slowly up a long staircase until he reached an elevator. It occurred to you, every room you’d been in was dim, this elevator included, just light enough for someone with average eyesight not to trip over themselves. 
Your stomach dropped as the elevator ascended, finally letting out an echoing DING when it reached the desired floor. 
He stepped forward and you peeked out from behind his wing. 
You were in a beautiful, but dark penthouse. Through the wall to wall windows you could see the stars of the night sky twinkling through. The furnishings were expensive, all black and chrome. 
“Welcome home,” the mothman said, his voice ever soft. 
He set you down on a black couch and you flinched as he crouched in front of you. His long nails picked at the knots binding your wrists and ankles until they were free. 
The moment your limbs were your own again, you slid to the opposite side of the couch, frantically untangling the gag. 
“Let me go!” were the first words that bubbled out of your lips. 
Roth’s blood eyes narrowed at you. It was unnerving you couldn't really read his expression, his facial features obscured by dark fur. 
“Go where?” he asked, calmly, his head tipped to the side. “I had my associates look into you. (Y/N), broke waitress, evicted…where will you go?” 
Your cheeks burned that he knew so much about you. 
“I don't know. Not here. Not a pet.” 
“You'll live better here as a pet than on the street as a stray.” 
You blinked and he was a few feet closer to you, stretching his long fingers out to drag a knuckle down your cheek. 
“No matter. I'm not letting you go.” 
You snorted. 
“Until you get bored with me and toss me out again.” 
His eyes became narrow slits. 
“Did someone throw you out, (Y/N)?” 
Your eyes burned into his, heavy with rage. This was just the cherry on your monster loving cake wasn't it? At least, he was honest and called you what you were to him. A toy. A pet. An object to break and throw away. 
“It doesn't matter. You're all the same.” 
You heard a hiss and then his claws pricked your cheeks, pinching your face. Bright eyes filled your vision. 
“Are we?” He asked. 
Your confidence faltered and you swallowed a lump in your throat. 
“You own a human fetish club. Explain to me how I'm wrong. You see us as weak objects to be passed around.”  
He bared his sharp teeth at you. 
“You will not be passed around. You. Are. Mine.” 
You drew your legs underneath your chin, glaring at him, but winced as a sharp pain shot through you. 
“Ouch!” 
His eyes widened and his fingers left your cheeks, clawing at the tight skirt you still wore. You tried to wiggle away, but his wing boxed you in so he could glide a thumb over your bare skin. It seemed impossible he could see anything in such a dark room, but he growled at the painful spot on your hip where you'd landed when the vampire dropped you. 
“Don't!” you hissed, jerking your skirt down. 
You watched his eyes open and shut, before he stood. 
“Damian!” he said so softly, you weren't sure who he was talking to.  
You jumped as an elegant Naga appeared, wiping his hands with a towel. 
“You called, sir?” He asked his yellow eyes drifting to you only for a moment before they returned to Roth. 
“Bring Vince. Make her some food.”  
The Naga nodded sharply and disappeared. 
He sat next to you on the couch, stretching his wings slowly and resting his forearms on the tops of his legs. Seeing him closely, now, you could see he was tall with broad shoulders, not including his massive wingspan. 
“The girls I employ want to be here,” he said, turning his face to you. “They get paid well and they enjoy their work.” 
“Is that your pitch?” you sneered. 
He flashed his teeth, chuckling. 
“No, you won't be working the floor, but you should know the facts,” he said. “Tyre broke a pact bringing you here. I don't kidnap humans.” 
“Except me.” 
“You're a unique situation.” 
“I won't tell anyone if you let me go,” you promised. 
He was hard to read, but you got the impression he was examining you. 
“I'm not letting you go. I want you.” 
“What the fuck does that mean?” You blurted, your heart starting to race again. 
Roth didn't have to answer as the elevator dinged and the vampire from before stepped out. 
“You hurt her. Apologize.” 
Vince’s eyes found you and his eyebrows rose. Giving the mothman a contrite glance, he crossed the room, bending down to one knee in front of you and dipping his head. 
“Apologies, miss, I was too rough with you. It won't happen again.”  
“Good. Get back to work,” Roth said, tone blunt. 
“Have a pleasant evening, miss.” 
Vince stood and winked at you with a little smirk, before he boarded the elevator again and disappeared. 
“Come here, you need to eat,” Roth said, gesturing for you to follow him. 
You wanted to say no, but you hadn't eaten, expecting a quiet dinner with Tyre so you slowly got to your feet and crept after him. 
In the dining room Damian had set the table with a little flickering candle and red roses. Roth politely pulled out your seat for you, encouraging you to sit down. Though you were hungry, you glared at the food in front of you as he took his own seat. 
“Something wrong?” he asked placing a napkin in his lap. 
“How do I know you haven’t drugged this?” 
“Why would I?” 
You blinked at him, opening and closing your mouth as you thought of what accusations to spew. 
“I don’t know! So you can have your way with me or whatever!” 
Though you couldn’t see his lips, a triangle of teeth appeared as if he were smirking. 
“I don’t need to drug your food to do that. Personally, I would rather my lover be conscious when I have her.” 
You crossed your arms. 
“How many lovers have you had?” 
He snorted, picking up his knife and carefully cutting his meat into little cubes. 
“That’s a rather personal question little flame,” he said, before sticking a bit of meat in his mouth and chewing. “What would you say if I asked you the same thing?” 
Your cheeks burned, realizing it was a very rude question. His low, scratchy voice drove you insane. Every word he spoke was soft, deliberate, and calm. None of your fussing seemed to move him, much. Unsure what else to say, you turned your attention to your food. The first bite was apprehensive, but after you’d swallowed that, your hunger took over and you quickly consumed the rest. 
“Damian is a good cook,” you commented. 
“I can tell he’s happy to have someone new to cook for,” he said, scooting a vegetable out of the way with his fork. “I usually have the same thing every night but this is new.” 
Your cheeks burned that he’d made such an effort, but with nothing left on your plate, you weren’t sure what to do next. 
“Come with me,” he said rising. 
You narrowed your eyes on the vegetables he’d left behind, only eating the meat, but followed him out of the room. 
The penthouse was large and airy, the atmosphere perfumed with rows of night blooming flowers arranged in planters outside of the open glass doors. 
“You keep the doors open?” you asked. 
“Though I enjoy my luxuries, my people rested in trees for thousands of years. I like to feel the breeze,” he explained. “Don’t be concerned. You are very safe here. I have security posted everywhere.” 
Your eyes jumped to your forehead hearing that. 
“Are you often under attack?” 
“My business is a dangerous one, but I’ve been at it for many years. You are safe. This is our room.” 
He opened a heavy door and led you into a sumptuous bedroom. A four poster bed sat at the center with silver chiffon curtains fluttering in the breeze flowing in through the open balcony doors. Moonflowers and datura swayed on an arbor framing the entrance, the moon hanging in the center. It’s blue light cast a silver glow over the plush white chairs and vanity. 
“Our room?” you gulped. “I have to sleep with you?” 
He chuckled. 
“I don’t sleep on a bed, usually,” he said. “My kind sleep upright on a perch. The bed is for your comfort.” 
You shuddered, a dark thought passing through your head. 
“H-how…how did you know you would need that?” 
In the darkness, you followed his red eyes. 
“Damian brought it up while you were resting.” 
You wrinkled your nose. Collapsed from panic on a hard stone floor while he tortured Tyre was hardly resting. He suddenly turned to you, grabbing you by your waist and placing you gently on the bed. 
“W-what are you doing?” you mewled as his claws curled around the edge of your skirt, scooting it further up your thigh. 
He pinned you with a glance, before turning his attention to the bedside table and extracting a little pot. Opening it, he scooped some gel from inside and carefully smoothed it over the darkened bit of skin where a bruise was forming. It tingled, easing the slight ache. 
His eyes lingered on the patch of skin, before his claws split the fabric. 
“Stop! Stop it!” you screeched, trying to push him away with your smaller hands. 
It was only then you really understood how strong he really was. He didn’t budge, but captured your wrists in a hand while the other shredded your sweater. 
“I’ll buy you better clothes,” he assured you when you were sitting underneath him in only your underwear. 
You regretted wearing your skimpiest pair, as you’d planned on seducing Tyre with them. Now you felt naked and vulnerable, the red light of Roth’s eyes outlining your curves. 
He swallowed, heavily, making a small grunt in the back of his throat before he released you and stood. 
“Sleep.” he said, glancing over his shoulder. “The sun is rising.” 
Peering past him, you could see the sky getting ever so slightly lighter. He pressed a button and heavy blackout blinds lowered automatically. The sliding door slid shut, making the room pitch black except for Roth’s eyes still shining in the dark. 
You let out a yip as his wings fluttered, stirring the air in the room and he delicately perched on the rail at the end of the bed. 
“Are you going to watch me sleep all day?” you barked, crossing your arms.
“Yes.” 
You sputtered your displeasure, but weren’t sure what to say. Hurriedly scooting under the coverlet, without meaning to you let out a satisfied hiss as you sank into the bed. Having slept on a droopy air mattress for many years, this bed felt like you were nestled in clouds. As much as you would have liked to stay awake, glaring at Roth until he went away, your eyes slid shut and you drifted off. 
“Miss, miss,” you heard a voice in your ear. 
You pried your eyes open, taking a moment to remember where you were. Sitting up suddenly, you were met with Damian’s yellow gaze. 
“Time to wake up,” he said, “I have breakfast for you in the dining room.” 
You blinked, realizing you could see him fairly well, and glanced at the windows to see the blackout blinds had been lifted and the sun was well on it’s way below the horizon. 
“But it’s evening,” you muttered. 
He smirked, slithering around you to open a door and then another. 
“We operate on the boss’s clock here. Mothmen like the dark, they don’t see to well in the sunlight. Here, this is the bathroom and the closet is here. I spent the afternoon purchasing you some new clothes, but if you’d like something else, just tell me.” 
“Oh, um…okay.” 
Damian gave you a slight bow and slid out of the room, shutting the door behind him. Taking a breath, you climbed out of the coverlet, first examining the balcony. Standing just in the doorway, since you were still dressed in lingerie, you could see the whole city spread out before you, streetlights flicking on one by one as the sun set. 
On the deck, along with the flowers, was a swinging chair and a small fish pond. You watched the white finned fish swimming in lazy circles  below a few lotus flowers before you went back inside. 
Poking your head in the bathroom, you found it was quite luxurious and to your surprise when you flicked the switch a real light turned on, not the dimmed bulbs everywhere else. Damian, you guessed, had stocked it with a fresh electric toothbrush and all the essentials. Oddly, there were either the exact products you had in your bathroom or the not value brand versions. Instead of the face cream you used, there was a high end cream you’d always dreamed of buying. The same with the makeup, hair supplies, and soaps. Satisfied you had what you needed, you crept into the closet. 
It was one of those fancy closets, you’d seen in magazines with clothes arranged by color and an island in the center full of shelves holding jewelry, scarves, shoes, and-
A sharp scream burst from your lips. 
Damian appeared in the doorway, out of breath as if he’d been slithering at top speed. 
“What’s wrong?” he gasped. 
You pointed a shaking finger at what was a multi compartment jewelrybox, but instead of jewels inside there were carefully arranged, polished, teeth. Hundreds of teeth. 
“What the fuck is that?” you squealed, jumping behind Damian’s body as if he could shield you from them. 
He let out a sharp breath, looking relieved. 
“Heavens, I thought something was wrong,” he sighed. 
Your eyes darted between him and the box of teeth. 
“There IS something wrong! What the fuck?” 
“That’s the boss’s collection,” he said. 
“D-do those teeth come from people?” you whispered. “Are they real?” 
Damian nodded as if that was the most perfectly normal thing in the world. 
“He likes to collect the teeth of his enemies. It’s some mothman cultural thing. It’s kind of neat if you take a good look at them. There are specimens from several species.” 
“He keeps them in his closet?” 
“Where else would he keep them?”
You felt light headed and slumped against the vanity sitting just by the closet door. Were Tyre’s teeth already part of the collection?
“It’s part of his culture, (Y/N),” he said. “Children in your culture put their teeth under their pillow for their parent’s to collect. Think of it that way.”
You shook your head, rubbing your eyes. 
“Please, please stop. I don’t want to hear any more.” 
“Is anything else the matter? Do you like your clothes?” he asked pleasantly. 
“I-I didn’t get a chance to look.” 
Damian nodded and slipped into the closet, returning with a handful of items. 
“Why not wear this outfit,” he said. “I saw it on a Pinterest board and I think it will suit your figure.” 
“Er…thanks,” you said, taking the pile as he slipped out of the room so you could dress. 
You took a long shower, trying to clear your mind of the teeth cache you’d stumbled across. When it was finally time to put on clothes, you had to admit, the outfit Damian had chosen was quite stylish, though you looked a bit like a mafia wife with a diamond tennis necklace around your neck and matching bracelets on your wrist. 
You crept down the hall to the dining room to find Roth waiting on you, surrounded by paperwork. You yelped when to his side you saw another monster you recognized handcuffed and gagged on his knees next to him. His nose was bloody and one eye was swollen. 
“What the- Elijah…what?”
Roth’s eyes rose to you, lingering for a moment before he gestured towards your breakfast. 
“Eat, your food is getting cold,” he murmured, turning his attention back to whatever he was working on as if the monster by his calf wasn’t eyeing you for help. 
You hardly noticed if the fluffy pancakes Damian had provided were good or not, because you were trying to sort out what the monster “boyfriend” who’d jilted you a year ago was doing handcuffed in the dining room. It was hard to know where to look and words escaped you as your mind spun with messy thoughts. 
Halfway through your meal, Roth gathered his stack of papers and tapped them on the desk to straighten them before he spoke. 
“Now that that’s all done,” he said. “Time to other business.” 
He stood, dragging Elijah by his collar along the table to you, leaning on it casually as if everything about this wasn’t very, very illegal. 
“What would you like me to do with this one?” he asked, a clawed hand slipping through your freshly washed hair. 
You stared up at him for a moment, a bite of pancake still half chewed in your mouth before you swallowed it hard. Your mind’s eye immediately went to the tooth collection in the closet. 
“Um…I don’t know? What do you mean ‘do with him?’” 
Elijah whimpered loudly, begging for mercy. 
Roth’s eyes narrowed and he kicked him sharply to get him to sit still. 
“Well, I can give him to my boys and have his teeth extracted or you can keep him around the club polishing the girl’s shoes if it makes you feel any better. They make a game of bullying miscreants. I’ll only take his fangs and claws if you’d like to show him mercy. But he’s not getting away without a punishment.” 
He grabbed the werewolf, by the neck, his red eyes reflecting in Elijah’s green. 
“Monsters like you make me sick. I ought to take your balls.”
He pried his lips apart, his thumb running over a fang. Though Roth’s voice was low, it was thick with a terrifying cruelty. 
“All that power, all the gifts you’ve been given and you use them to trick the ones smaller than you. You could have had a willing human woman on her knees in front of you playing whatever games you like, but you get off on torturing the sweet ones.” 
Elijah’s eyes were wide, full of terror. They flicked to you, begging for forgiveness. 
“I don’t want you to kill him,” you said, your voice thin. 
Roth looked up at you and tipped his head to the side. 
“Pity.” 
His eyes flicked down to his captive. 
“I suppose you have a new job, hm?” 
He narrowed his eyes again, head dipping down so he was close to Elijah’s snout. 
“(Y/N) is very kind. I am not. If you get into trouble, I’ll take what’s left of your teeth and dump the rest of you in a ditch. Understand?” 
Vince appeared from the shadows making you jump and dragged Elijah out. 
“Have fun with the girls!” he called after him. 
“Was that really necessary?” you asked, glaring at Roth. “Yes, he broke my heart, but his fangs? His claws? Threatening to kill him?” 
Roth slipped a knuckle under your chin, his eyes arcing in what must have been a smile. 
“My job is not easy and my world is not kind. Strength and cruelty are sometimes required to take care of the ones who can’t help themselves. That’s the way things are.” 
You huffed. 
“You’re horrible.” 
Fangs flashed in the dimming purple light streaming in through the window behind you. 
“I’ll happily be horrible so you can always stay sweet. My methods may be unappetizing, but it’s worth is to see the truth reflected in your eyes. You deserve to feel justice.” 
He leaned towards you, searching your gaze. 
“And even if you won’t admit it, I can see that you do.”
Your eyebrows jumped and your ears burned. 
“H-how did you even know about him?” 
“I went through your text messages.” 
“You have my phone? Give it to me!” 
He shook his head. 
“You haven’t properly settled in yet. I’ll give you a new one when you’ve come to accept your place here.” 
“What is that supposed to mean?” 
“You’ll soon get used to it. Come on.” 
He beckoned you to get up, leading you towards the elevator. 
“I have a use for you,” he said. 
You flinched, narrowing your eyes at him as your heart tightened in your chest. 
“What use?” 
“The girls always have things they need. Some new brand of makeup comes out or melting spray, whatever that means. I have no idea, but I’m sure you do. Can you handle a budget?” 
You nodded, more curious now that your “use” wasn’t anything alarming. 
“All you have to do is receive their requests and figure out what we can afford to buy every month, what’s most important and all that. Then hand over your report and I’ll have one of the guys deal with the order. Simple enough?” 
“Sure,” you agreed. 
He patted you on the head and you peered up at him, trying to read his expression as the two of you landed on the first floor. The club was empty this early in the evening, except you could hear the titter of women through one of the doors that led to the back. A cyclops was restocking the bar, slicing limes and he nodded to you politely when you met his gaze. 
Without writhing bodies, you could see that it was a very pretty place. Tufted benches in Navy blue velvet formed curved shapes housing glossy hardwood tables. The walls appeared to be some kind of fabric with an elaborate swag curtain arrangement softening the corners. The bar was a slick snake-like shape running along one wall, the liquor bottles lined up to the ceiling lit up by gold light. 
A woman with bright pink hair came rushing through a side hallway, looking in her purse for something, almost slamming right into you. 
“Oh sorry!” she squeaked, looking up. 
Her eyes widened at you, then looked to Roth. 
“New girlfriend, boss?” she asked, a sly smile growing on her face. 
Glancing up at him, you couldn’t tell behind his black fuzz, but you almost thought he might be blushing. 
“I’m Candy,” she beamed, shaking your hand. 
Roth waved at you. 
“(Y/N) will be taking your supply requests from now on,” he explained and she narrowed her eyes at him. 
“You’re putting your girlfriend to work?” she pouted, slipping an arm around yours and pulling you close. “Shame on you! You ought to spoil this rare blessing! You’ve been waiting long enough, haven’t you? You’re going to chase her away if you work her to the bone!” 
“Candy!” he growled, obviously a little annoyed, but she just waved him away. 
“Mr. Roth acts tough, but he’s got a gooey center,” she said, her bright eyes filled with mischief. “You’d better take him for all he’s worth! He’s been wanting a girlfriend for as long as anyone can remember, but never could find the right one.”
She winked at you. 
“The girls and I like variety but Mr. Roth is so sentimental he can’t stand the idea of sharing. He’s always wanted one little flower to spoil. It’s so cute. You’re his first girlfriend, you know. He’s never brought another woman here. We would know if he did.” 
“Oh!” you said, glancing back up to him. 
You were sure he was blushing now, though you couldn’t see it. 
“Jesus,” Roth grumbled, hiding his face with a clawed hand. “Aren’t you running late, Candy?” 
She grinned. 
“I can’t wait to tell the girls about this!” she chirped before she smooched you on the cheek and ran off. 
Roth sighed, looking at you for a moment, before a thumb rose to your cheek and he rubbed away Candy’s lipstick. 
“Don’t listen to her,” he grunted, turning quickly and leading you to his office. “The girls pretty much run this place and they get silly ideas in their heads. Meddlers, all of them.” 
“I am I really your first girlfriend?” you asked his back as he walked into his office. “I’m not really your girlfriend, though. You said I was your pet.” 
He plopped down at his desk, waving you over. 
“It doesn’t matter what I call you,” he griped, grabbing you by your hips and setting you on his desk. “You’re mine.” 
Your head tipped to the side. 
“Why haven’t you had a girlfriend before? You’re rich and powerful. Don’t women fall all over you?” 
He leaned back in his chair, letting out a tight breath. 
“My kind mate once, for life,” he explained. “It’s very…serious. Most women don’t like that sort of…intensity hanging over their heads from the start.�� 
Your eyes widened, watching the stiff personality he’d been so carefully trying to cultivate melt in front of you. 
“So you haven’t had any other lovers?” you asked. 
He fiddled with the hem of your skirt, refusing to answer. 
“Is that why you’re so hard on sleazy monsters?” 
At that his eyes lifted to meet yours, and his thumb absently slipped over your thigh.
“Being so crass and careless is a sacrilege among my people. Breaking a soul who might be someone’s sacred mate is considered a crime punishable by death.” 
You looked down at your fingers, suddenly feeling an ache in your chest. It should have been a relief, not a pain. He would get bored and let you go someday. Now you knew that for certain. 
“Am I just a placeholder until your real mate comes along?” you whispered, the words slipping past your lips, though you tried so hard to keep them in.  
He chuckled, lowering his head to fill your vision with his bright eyes. 
“I just told you. We mate to one person only. I wouldn’t have brought you to my bedroom if I intended to have someone else.” 
“Why didn’t you just say that? Why be so distant? You scared me. If you’d wanted to mate me, holding me against my will is not exactly how to start a relationship.” 
At that his eyes avoided yours. 
“Like I said…women tend to run when they find out we mate for life. Humans aren’t like us. Your kind have lots of different partners and you break partnerships when they no longer suit you. If I don't force you to stay with me, you might leave."  
You had no idea what possessed you, but you placed a hand on his cheek and pulled his face towards you, forcing him to meet your gaze. Your fingertips sank into the soft fuzz and you liked the way it tickled your skin. 
“Not all of us,” you whispered. “Some of us just want one person we can be with forever.” 
“Is that what you want?” he asked. 
The words left your lips on a silvery note. 
“That’s all I’ve ever wanted.” 
He pulled you into his lap, curling his wings around the two of you. 
“I can give you that, if you let me.” 
A light giggle filled the little space for just the two of you. 
“I suppose I don’t have much of a choice,” you tittered. “You don’t plan on letting me leave.”
“No,” he murmured. “But if you stayed because you wanted to it would mean a lot to me. It’s okay if you don’t feel it now. I’ll spend our lifetimes trying to convince you.” 
Your head tipped against his soft chest, feeling a strange giddiness a lady shouldn’t feel towards her kidnapper, especially one who had a large collection of the teeth of the people he’d murdered in his closet. 
You were fairly certain monsters had driven you to madness. None of your dramatically swaying feelings made any sense… but your “enemies” had been defeated, you’d had the best sleep you’d had in a long time in a big comfy bed, and you were wearing half a million dollars in diamonds. Objectively, your quality of life had wildly improved from the day before when you were sitting on a dirty curb clutching fifteen dollars. 
For the first time, you felt his soft lips against your forehead and your head tipped up, following them. When you pressed yours against his, you felt a shudder roll through his chest, making your skin tingle. His clawed hands slipped into your hair, holding your head in place while he explored. 
You felt his breath fanning your face, panting into your kiss and underneath your fingertips his heart raced, causing yours to skip as well. An arm reached behind you and you heard sundry items clatter on the floor as he laid you out on his desk. 
His tongue explored your mouth, tasting like cinnamon, as his fingers clutched your cheek. Fear and anticipation muddled your thoughts. Part of you was still unsure, but the other part knew it was too late for doubts. Your body was ready to surrender, panties damp and thighs sticky. 
You gasped underneath him, his wings forming a silvery cave tinted with the glow from his red eyes. You ran your fingers through the soft feathers and felt him shudder with appreciation. Notching his body between your legs, he pulled only an inch away, looking at you. 
“I will keep you no matter what, but this I will not take without permission,” he murmured. “Just know, if you accept me. I won’t tolerate competition. I’ll murder anyone who dares to touch you and take their teeth.” 
Your cheeks burned, blinking at him through a heady veil of pleasure, his scent carrying notes of the moonflowers decorating his home. This was the key moment. You could refuse him and go back to being his reluctant captive…or you could become his. 
“Okay,” you whispered, your heart answering the question before your still unsure mind. “I…ah…I accept you.” 
His lips covered yours again as he let out a needy grunt, this kiss more desperate and claiming. You felt the prick of his sharp teeth as yours slid against his, the thrill of danger sending lightening bolts up your spine. You could feel the strength in his fingers as they moved over you and the weight of his body as he pressed you into the desk. 
His claws curled around the neck of your blouse and he jerked ito down, exposing the tender breasts perched in your bra. You dragged in a heavy breath tasting oddly like cinnamon, the small space under his wings suddenly feeling thick with the scent. 
Your body grew hot and sensitive, each brush off his soft fuzz making your skin tingle wildly. You suddenly felt light headed and needy, your mouth watering at the taste of his tongue. 
“W-what’s happening?” you gasped when he pulled back to press kisses into your neck. “I feel hot…” 
His hands cupped your breast as you felt his lips agonizingly brush your sensitive skin as he spoke. 
“My pheromones are binding you to me,” he hummed and your heart skipped a beat. 
“What?” you hummed, pushing your breasts into his big hands for more pressure. 
“My pheromones are designed to make mating more pleasurable…to make me irresistible to you.” 
You gasped, but your mind was getting ever hazier as the scent wound around you. Your hips bucked into his stomach, begging for what you wanted. 
“Not yet,” he purred, pulling a tender nipple into his mouth. Colors exploded behind your eyelids, feeling more pleasure flood your system than you’d ever experienced before. 
You’d had enough lovers and a few good orgasms, but this blew that all out of the water like a nuclear bomb and you hadn’t even cum yet. Your back arched and you screamed as his long, agile tongue curled around your nipple. 
The slight prick of his claws bit your skin as his fingers played with the other one, alternating between teasing plucks and firm rolls. The small panties you wore were soaked through and your thighs ground against his hips for more friction. Every inch of skin felt as sensitive as your clit, the fuzz all over his body feeling maddeningly good against it. Your fingertips dug into the thick collar of fur around his neck, wanting to just rub him all over you. 
He let our pleased hums as grunts as your fingers couldn’t decide where they wanted to be, one moment clutching his neck, then his head, then scratching at this chest. The room filled with your desperate mewls, begging him in slurred words for his cock. 
“That’s right,” he murmured on a smug chuckle. “You’re all mine, little flame. Only I can give you what you need.” 
His kisses trailed down your stomach, his soft, delicate antennae caressing your skin as he moved lower. Claws shoved your skirt off your hips, exposing your panties to him and his long tongue slid up and down your slit. You heard the sound of tearing fabric and then his breath on your sensitive lips. His tongue dipped inside of you and you suddenly understood the actual length of it, easily filling your weeping pussy.  
“Roth!” you gasped, fingers looking for something to clutch and finding a few odd feathers to wrap in your grip. 
You heard him hum as he licked you up, making your eyes cross as the vibration drew a blooming orgasm from your core. Whimpering, with tears streaming down your cheeks you felt the agile appendage lapping up your juices, while his thumb found your clit. 
He circled it slowly, making your thighs tense so tightly you thought you might pop. Pleasure zapped you like a lightening bolt, the electricity lighting up every nerve until your whole body felt like it was cumming all at once. Your head dropped to the side, drool leaking over your cheek as your eyes rolled back in your head. 
You weren’t sure you could take much more. Making love had never been like this. Your mind couldn’t process what his pheromones were doing to you. 
Finally, Roth couldn’t hold back anymore, standing so he loomed over you, only his red eyes visible in the darkness. His fingers slipped past your open lips, holding you you in place as you felt his thick shaft investigate your pussy. It felt a little strange, your skin so sensitive it could make out every detail. Though velvety skin still covered it’s girth, the head was more elongated than a humans, ending at a slightly sharper angle with a pronounced ridge bisecting it. Smooth bumps formed a line running vertically along the shaft and something…or some things grasped your thighs like little fingers, holding them open. Your confusion as what was holding your legs apart melted away when he snapped his hips and his cock entered you.
A ragged roar filled your ears as he bottomed out inside of your channel. You could tell by the way the fingers in your mouth flexed, he was doing his best to hold back, not to hurt you. He was still for a moment, as he gathered his resolve, but you had other ideas, sucking on his fingers lewdly, your wet tongue tracing his claws. 
He bent down on top of you, fingers fleeing your hot mouth and wrapping around your neck. 
“Naughty girl,” he gasped as you bucked your hips, the little nubs lining his shaft making you whimper. 
You could hardly see him, but you knew he could see you and you were getting annoyed with him trying to be gentle. Pulling your tits out of your bra, you kneaded them shamelessly, pressing the flesh against the arm holding your throat and arching your back so he couldn’t avoid the dirty show. 
You couldn’t hold back your victorious smirk as he let out a hungry growl and his hips started to batter your soft flesh. His eyes disappeared into the darkness as instinct overtook him, rutting you wildly. Strong fingers tightened on your throat, only ratcheting up the spice swirling through every limb like a savage tornado. 
Drowning in pure bliss, hot tears poured down your cheeks, your body jerking underneath his as he pounded into you. Nonsense poured from your lips, rational thought swept away in the storm. When the sensation reached it’s peak you felt like your body might shatter into a million pieces and you welcomed the oblivion that overtook you. Body shuddering violently as you fell over the edge. 
Your wet, needy cunt, clamping down on Roth’s cock so suddenly made his body respond in the way it was designed. His shaft suddenly inflated to twice it’s original girth, stretching you decadently before he cursed and you felt ropes of searing cum splash against your sucking walls. 
You could hear heavy panting and it took you a moment to realize it was your own breath. Roth let out a long, groaning sigh, his body slumping on top of yours, only stopped by a strong arm bracing the desk. 
His bright red eyes returned, looking somehow more entrancing than before. Everything about him seemed…more. His cinnamon, flower laced scent stuck to you and his soft fur felt luxurious. Even the sound of his ragged breaths tickled your ears in a sumptuous way. 
“You’re…different,” you muttered, brain having trouble putting words together. 
He let go of your throat, a thumb brushing your bottom lip as his hand clutched your cheek. 
“My pheramones have soaked into your body,” he purred. “You’re mine now. I’ve marked you.” 
“Oh,” you hummed, eyes slipping shut, as you felt the aftershocks of your love making roll over you. 
Whatever little claspers were holding your legs retreated and as his cock slipped out of you, cum and slick splashed on the wood floor. 
He scooped you into his arms, pulling you into his lap as he peppered soft kisses on your forehead. 
“Are you okay?” he asked, fingers, absently stroking your hair. 
“Mhmm,” you hummed. “Will it always be like that…now that you’ve marked me?” 
“Yes,” he said, twirling a bit of hair around his finger. “Now that we’re bonded…I can’t control my pheremones. They…have a bit of a mind of their own and their purpose now is to reinforce the bond.” 
A knock at the door sobered you a bit as you tugged your shirt back up to cover your boobs. 
“Who is it?” he called, still so quiet you weren’t sure how anyone heard him. 
“Vince,” said the vampire on the other side of the door.
“Is it an emergency?” 
“No.” 
“Go away.” 
“Got it, boss.” 
He tucked the bit of hair he was twirling behind your ear and smiled. 
“Do you want a snack?” 
Your eyes met his with all of the earnestness in the world. 
“Yes. I would love that!” 
He pulled out his phone and texted someone before setting you back on his desk and leaning back in his chair, looking deeply satisfied and proud of himself. You flopped over on your stomach, kicking your heels in the air and resting your chin on your arm. 
“Do we have to work now?” you asked, batting your eyelashes at him. 
He looked at you for a moment before answering. 
“No…What do you want to do?” 
“I kind of want to get to know you a little better…Since I’m bonded to you or whatever.” 
“Okay,” he said, stretching his arms behind his head. “What do you want to know first?” 
You blinked at him. 
“Why do you have hundreds of teeth in your closet?” 
813 notes · View notes
its-avalon-08 · 4 days
Note
Hi. Could you do a Fernando Alonso one where reader are Carmen's sister and sometimes accompany her to races to spend time together due to reader's busy schedule with her modeling career and to the point where Fernando becomes interested in knowing more about her while George and Carmen try to set them up, since they realize how well the two get along and the tension that is in the air
meddling and podiums (fa14)
✦ pairing - fernando alonso x female!reader
✦ genre - friends to lovers, meddling george and carmen, cute, fluff,
Tumblr media
The paddock was buzzing with the usual energy of race day. The sun beat down on the vibrant F1 scene, with fans filling the grandstands, drivers making last-minute preparations, and teams moving swiftly to ensure everything was ready for lights out. Amidst all this, Carmen and her sister, Y/N, walked through the paddock, turning a few heads.
Y/N hadn’t been to a race in a while. Her modeling career kept her moving from city to city, but today, she managed to carve out time to support her sister and spend some quality time together.
“I'm so glad you could make it,” Carmen smiled, looping her arm through Y/N's as they navigated through the McLaren garage. “Feels like I never see you anymore."
Y/N laughed, adjusting her sunglasses as she glanced around. "Tell me about it. I've missed this vibe. You know how crazy my schedule’s been. But I needed this. A break, some racing… and, of course, hanging out with my favorite sister."
“Your only sister,” Carmen teased.
As they walked past the garages, Y/N caught sight of the familiar green of the Aston Martin team and its star driver, Fernando Alonso. His presence was impossible to ignore—tall, rugged, and oozing confidence as he discussed strategy with his engineers. She had seen him on TV countless times but seeing him up close was something else entirely. Y/N couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly commanding he was.
Carmen noticed her sister’s gaze lingering. "Interesting view?" she asked playfully, raising an eyebrow.
Y/N shrugged nonchalantly, though a smirk played on her lips. "Just… observing. No harm in looking, right?"
"Right…" Carmen said, clearly noting the spark of interest. "Come on, George is waiting for us at Mercedes. But, I wouldn't mind taking a detour near the Aston Martin garage later."
Y/N chuckled. "You're not that subtle, you know."
As they made their way towards George, Y/N felt someone’s eyes on her. Glancing up, she met Fernando Alonso’s gaze for the briefest of moments. He looked curious, like he was trying to place her face. She wasn’t just another person in the paddock to him. And then, just as quickly, the moment passed, and he turned back to his conversation.
They reached Mercedes, where George Russell was leaning casually against a wall, spotting them from a distance with a wide grin on his face. "Well, look who finally decided to show up—Miss World herself," he teased, pushing off and walking over with a playful bounce in his step.
Y/N smirked, rolling her eyes as she hugged him. "Oh please, as if you don’t love having me around to boost your popularity. Admit it, you’ve missed me."
"Missed? Try celebrating the peace and quiet since you've been jet-setting across the world," George shot back, ruffling her hair in a brotherly gesture. "Now you're back to ruin it all."
"Ruin it? I make everything better, Russ. Without me, you'd be bored out of your mind."
Carmen laughed as she watched them banter, but George wasn’t done. “Honestly, I think the paddock’s been too calm. Carmen’s always talking about you, and I’m like—great, now I have to deal with two of them. Double trouble."
Y/N punched him lightly on the arm. “Admit it, you love having me around to keep you on your toes."
George laughed, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright! You win. It’s nice to see you here, Y/N. It’s not the same without you stirring things up."
Y/N smirked. "That’s what I thought."
As they exchanged more playful jabs, George's expression turned more mischievous. "Oh, by the way, Alonso's been… asking about you."
Carmen and George shared a knowing look. "Well, you did just catch his eye. Plus, he's been asking questions like… ‘Who’s the girl that sometimes comes with Carmen?’ And ‘What does she do?’ You know, the usual."
Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips. "He could just ask me directly, you know."
“Oh, I’m sure he’s thinking about it,” Carmen said, nudging her.
As they chatted, George’s phone buzzed. He glanced down and grinned. “Speak of the devil. Fernando’s just invited us to the Aston Martin hospitality. Care to join?”
Y/N hesitated for a moment, pretending to think. "Isn't this a bit of an obvious setup?"
Carmen laughed. "It's not a setup if there's already chemistry."
George nodded, backing her up. "Exactly. Come on, Y/N. Just join us. I bet it’ll be fun."
Y/N sighed, though a flicker of curiosity burned in her eyes. "Alright, alright. But if this gets awkward, I’m blaming both of you."
"Deal," George smirked, already texting Fernando back.
As they made their way toward Aston Martin, Y/N felt the flutter of anticipation rise in her chest. She hadn’t expected to feel like this, but there was something intriguing about Fernando. The way he carried himself, the quiet confidence… it piqued her interest.
And if the way George and Carmen were looking at her was any indication, they were already rooting for something to happen.
---
The Aston Martin hospitality suite was buzzing with activity when Y/N, Carmen, and George arrived. The gleaming green branding and calm atmosphere contrasted sharply with the chaotic energy outside. Fernando was standing near a table, engrossed in conversation with one of the team members, but as soon as they entered, his eyes flicked toward them.
George waved, leading the way. “Fernando! Hope we’re not interrupting anything important.”
Fernando glanced up, a subtle smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Not at all,” he said smoothly, nodding at George before his gaze shifted to Y/N. “I see you’ve brought company.”
Y/N felt a slight flutter in her stomach as his dark eyes locked on hers. His presence was even more intense up close, and though he kept his tone casual, there was something in the way he looked at her that made her feel like they were the only two in the room.
“This is Y/N,” George said, clearly enjoying the moment. “You know, Carmen’s sister. We thought we’d drag her to more races since she’s been so busy.”
“Nice to finally meet you in person,” Fernando said, extending his hand toward Y/N. His voice was deep and calm, carrying a sense of quiet authority.
Y/N smiled, taking his hand in a firm handshake. “Likewise. I’ve heard a lot about you,” she replied, her voice steady despite the unexpected jolt that came from the contact.
“Only good things, I hope,” Fernando said, his tone light but his eyes lingering on hers.
Y/N tilted her head slightly, a playful glint in her eyes. “Mostly.”
Carmen shot George a look, clearly noticing the subtle tension between them. “So, Fernando, you’re ready for today’s race?”
“Always,” he responded, but his attention was still on Y/N. “And what about you, Y/N? How does this compare to the excitement of your world?”
Y/N laughed softly, breaking eye contact for a moment. “A little different from the fashion shows, but I think I prefer the noise and chaos here. Plus, watching these races is a nice break from my schedule.”
Fernando’s eyes gleamed with curiosity. “I imagine modeling takes you all over the world.”
“It does,” she replied. “But I try to make time for things that really matter. Family, friends… experiences.” Her eyes flicked up to meet his again, and there was no mistaking the subtle undercurrent in her words.
George, sensing the building tension, decided to jump in before things got too intense. “You two are making me feel like a third wheel,” he said, laughing awkwardly. Carmen elbowed him, but George just grinned. “Maybe we should give you a little more space.”
Carmen chimed in, smiling innocently. “That’s not a bad idea. George and I were going to grab some food, actually. You know, let you two get to know each other without us butting in.”
Y/N shot her sister a look, knowing exactly what she was trying to do. “Carmen…”
But George was already pulling Carmen along, leaving Fernando and Y/N standing there alone. "We'll be right back!" he called out, far too chipper as they disappeared into the crowd.
Y/N turned back to Fernando, trying not to laugh at her sister and George’s obvious meddling. “They’re not exactly subtle, are they?”
Fernando chuckled, his gaze softening. “Not at all.”
There was a moment of silence, but it wasn’t awkward. The air between them felt charged, like there was something simmering beneath the surface. Y/N could feel his eyes on her, the weight of his attention making her heart race.
“You’re close with George and Carmen?” Fernando asked, his tone casual, but his interest was clear.
“Yeah,” she replied, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Carmen and I are really close. It’s hard with my schedule, so I try to come to races whenever I can to see her. George is like an annoying older brother, but… we all get along.”
Fernando nodded, his eyes following her movements. “I can see that. They seem like good people.”
“They are,” Y/N said. “George is always looking out for Carmen, and by extension, me. Which is probably why they’re trying so hard to—” she paused, catching herself before finishing the sentence, but Fernando raised an eyebrow, clearly amused.
“To…?” he prompted.
Y/N smirked, shaking her head. “To do exactly what they’re doing right now—setting us up.”
Fernando’s lips curved into a small smile. “Ah, so you noticed.”
“Hard not to,” she replied with a light laugh. “They’ve been dropping hints for weeks now.”
Fernando’s expression grew more serious, though the smile never left his face. “And what do you think about that? Being set up?”
Y/N paused, meeting his gaze again. There was something about him—he was confident, sure, but not in an arrogant way. His interest in her felt genuine, and she couldn’t deny the chemistry that was already building between them.
“I don’t usually like being set up,” she admitted, her voice softening. “But… I guess it depends on the person.”
Fernando’s smile widened slightly, and he took a step closer. “And what do you think of me so far?”
Y/N felt her breath catch in her throat, the intensity of his gaze pulling her in. She smiled, tilting her head slightly as she held his gaze. “I think you might surprise me.”
Fernando’s eyes darkened with interest, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk. “I hope that’s a good thing.”
Before Y/N could respond, Carmen and George reappeared with mischievous grins on their faces, carrying trays of food.
“Did we miss anything?” George asked, far too casually.
Y/N glanced at Fernando, her lips curving into a knowing smile. “Nothing you two don’t already know.”
time skip
As the race weekend unfolded, it became clear to everyone in the paddock—especially to George and Carmen—that Fernando and Y/N were inseparable. Every free second, whether it was between practice sessions, during lunch breaks, or even casual moments walking through the paddock, they were side by side. Their conversations seemed endless, filled with easy laughter and stolen glances.
George and Carmen watched from the sidelines, their plotting almost becoming a sport of its own.
Friday afternoon
“Look at them,” Carmen whispered to George, nudging him as they stood by the Mercedes garage. Fernando and Y/N were sitting on a bench a few meters away, deep in conversation. Y/N was laughing at something Fernando had said, her face lighting up in a way that was hard to miss.
George smirked, crossing his arms. “I think we’ve done quite a job here.”
Carmen giggled, leaning into him. “You think they even notice how much time they’re spending together?”
“No way. They’re too busy making heart eyes at each other.”
Saturday, after qualifying
As the sun began to dip, the paddock was alive with chatter. Drivers were heading off for briefings, and team members bustled about. But Y/N and Fernando stood off to the side, leaning casually against a wall, completely in their own world.
“So,” Y/N said, leaning closer to him with a teasing smile, “you and George seem to get along surprisingly well. He’s not too annoying for you?”
Fernando chuckled, crossing his arms and shaking his head. “I think I’ve learned to tune him out when he starts talking too much.”
Y/N laughed, rolling her eyes. “That’s the secret to dealing with George. He loves the sound of his own voice.”
Fernando raised an eyebrow, his voice dropping just slightly. “And what about you? Are you as good at tuning him out?”
“Sometimes,” Y/N said, biting her lip, her tone playful. “But mostly, I just out-talk him.”
Fernando’s smirk grew, the tension between them unmistakable. “I can’t say I mind that.”
The air between them grew heavier, but before the moment could deepen, George’s voice cut through the tension.
“Hey, lovebirds!” he called out, grinning widely as he approached with Carmen. “Need any more help getting through this weekend together?”
Y/N groaned, laughing despite herself. “You really don’t know when to stop, do you?”
Carmen elbowed George, shooting Y/N and Fernando a playful wink. “Ignore him. He’s just jealous he’s not the center of attention.”
Fernando chuckled, his gaze lingering on Y/N. “I don’t think anyone could take attention away from Y/N.”
Sunday afternoon, post-race
The crowd was roaring as the podium ceremony wrapped up, and Fernando had just claimed an impressive P2. Y/N stood at the edge of the celebration, smiling as she watched him pop the champagne and soak in the cheers from the fans. There was something exhilarating about being part of this world, but today it felt even more electric. Fernando’s win wasn’t the only thing sparking the excitement in the air.
As the drivers made their way off the podium, Fernando spotted Y/N standing by, clapping and grinning at him. His eyes lit up as he made a beeline toward her, weaving through the crowd. Still in his race suit, champagne dripping from his hair, he looked like a man on top of the world.
As the podium celebrations wound down, Fernando made his way through the crowd, eyes scanning for Y/N. He spotted her standing just off to the side, her smile wide as she clapped along with the cheering fans. Despite the chaos surrounding them, she was a steady presence, and he couldn't help but feel drawn to her.
Still in his race suit, with champagne glistening on his hair and skin, he approached her, wiping a hand across his face as he grinned. “Not bad, huh?”
Y/N beamed up at him, her eyes bright. “Not bad at all. You looked like you were in your element out there.”
Fernando chuckled, slightly breathless but clearly energized. “I had some extra motivation.”
“Oh yeah?” Y/N raised an eyebrow, her voice teasing. “And what might that be?”
He took a step closer, the noise of the paddock dimming in his mind. “You.”
Her smile faltered for just a second, surprise flashing in her eyes before she tilted her head, amused. “Me?”
Fernando nodded, his voice lowering as his gaze softened. “Yeah. Being around you this weekend… I haven’t felt like this in a while.”
There was a moment of silence between them, the air heavy with unsaid words. Y/N’s heart was racing, the playful teasing that usually colored their conversations giving way to something deeper.
“Listen,” Fernando said, his voice gentle but sure, “I know this weekend’s been crazy, but if you’re not flying out tomorrow… I’d like to take you out. Just us, somewhere quiet. No paddock noise, no distractions.”
Y/N’s breath hitched slightly, her gaze locking with his. There was something sincere and almost vulnerable in his eyes, and for a moment, she forgot about the crowd, the race, and everything else.
“So,” she began, a small, teasing smile playing on her lips, “you’re asking me out, Alonso?”
Fernando smirked, his usual confidence creeping back as he held her gaze. “I am.”
Y/N bit her lip, her smile widening. “I think I’d like that.”
His eyes brightened with a mix of relief and excitement, the tension between them palpable. “Good. I'll make sure it’s worth your while.”
Y/N stepped a little closer, her voice dropping to match the quiet intimacy of the moment. “I’m counting on it.”
For a brief second, the world around them seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of them standing there, caught in the electricity of something new.
As George and Carmen celebrated their success from the sidelines, Fernando and Y/N exchanged a look filled with the kind of tension that only comes when two people know they’re on the edge of something more.
And for once, the noise of the race weekend faded into the background, leaving just the two of them in the moment.
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