Thinking about Ballister caring for his wound alone. Having to cauterize it and clean it and care for it. Dealing with that overwhelming pain, not just the physical but the emotional of knowing that he’s in so much pain because of the man he loved. Cleaning it every day until it becomes a numb force of habit. Struggling with phantom pains and chronic pain and having to make himself a new arm because his dominant hand is gone. While simultaneously trying to figure out how he’s going to clear his name, how he’s going to fix this, but he’s in too much pain to even think properly.
Thinking about Ballister sobbing, wailing, into the blood-soaked floor, wracked with agony, with no one there to help or comfort him.
Because the one person that had cared about him was the one who had done this to him.
4K notes
·
View notes
Sitting here like “hmmm but do I actually need a cane??? I’d only use it so much, n a folding one would be best for stealth n all” whilst I look longingly at cane-selling website. Oh folding cane for only ≈$25 plus tax, we’re really in it now,, oh regular cane for ≈$16 we’re really in it now. Good lord
0 notes
𝜗𝜚 summer loving, happened so fast
pairing -> felix catton x f!reader
warnings -> 18+ CONTENT, MDNI. drinking, smoking, exhibitionism, body worship, oral (f. receiving).
summers at saltburn— the air is still, the sun is unbearably bright for the hangover you’re nursing to handle, and your skin seems to be sticking to everything. even the grass beneath you is dewy with your sweat. your heart-shaped sunnies sit pretty on your face, shielding you from the sun’s assault as you lay peacefully, eyes fluttering shut.
felix hovers next to you. above you. the cigarette smoke curling around him and in the humidity makes you feel a bit sick, remembering how many you must’ve stolen from him and farleigh last night in your drunken state. a large hand, hot to the touch, spans over your bare stomach. long digits toy with the side ties on your bathing suit bottoms.
“it hasn’t even been an hour,” you murmur.
an hour since felix stuffed your face in his mattress to quiet your whimpering and mewling, enjoying you to the fullest before breakfast was even served. you nearly wince again when you remember the look venetia gave you— grimacing from the implications of your swollen lips and funny walk.
felix always has his way. you’re reminded of that constantly. when he takes you like you’re his favorite toy, and when he places his hand on your thigh under the table while scarfing down some toast directly after. and again, as he mounts you in the dry field, sweat trickling down his chest while he tries to reposition you. his cigarette is tossed to the side, still burning and smoking all on its own.
“never been a problem before,” his voice is airy. delicate.
he swoops down to kiss you. and you cant stop yourself from running your tongue over his bottom lip to pull a huffy, little moan from him. he’s already hard. you can feel his cock pressing against you. rutting up on your cunt through the front of your bikini bottoms and his trunks. yet felix has other plans. placing wet smooches down your neck, your chest, your soft tummy— laving his tongue over all the little dips and spots he loves the most as if you’re carved out of marble. his hands come up to push your breasts together, making you emit a small sound when he palms them gently through the cups of your suggestion of a top. at this point you cant find it in you to care who may possibly be watching.
your mind is hazy. overheated in every sense.
“felix,” you sigh his name so sweetly that he has no choice but to hum agaisnt your skin in return. you clear your throat, “what’re you doing?”
“jus’ wanna see...”
what a liar. him just wanting to see becomes him pulling the ties and peeling off your bottoms. becomes him stuffing his face between your supple thighs because now he just wants a taste. your fingers tug at his messy hair, curling the strands under and over them as you sing out into the subtle, mid-july breeze. beautifully keening his name while your toes curl against his back when he hooks your thighs over his broad shoulders. all so he can get a better technique, pressing the flat of his tongue against your clit until you’re squeaking out nonsense, cumming with just a few shakes of his head. it’s too easy to wind you up and have you falling apart on his face— or fingers, or cock— in mere moments.
but that’s the exact reason why felix brought you here.
759 notes
·
View notes