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targaryenrealnessdarling · 11 months

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No Pain, No Gain | Part 4, Final | PersonalTrainer!Aemond x fem!reader

A:N: Thank you all soooo much for joining me on this one, it was a blast to write. This chapter kinda made me feral writing it ngl. Cheers to my hype mama @ewanmitchellcrumbs <3 And I know I mentioned it in the first part but really it’s Ange as well as @valeskafics @oneeyedvisenya and @sapphire-writes that inspired me to write this from their AMAZING modern fics, so please give them all the love as well.

Series Masterlist | Warnings under the cut!

warnings: SMUT, 18+, MINORS DNI, pussy slapping, p in v sex, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, Aemond being mean during sex lowkey love it tho

Lucky for you, the flight wasn’t too long.

Even though you had Baela on your shoulder snoozing, nothing could tear your mind off the sheer idiocy of the previous week.

You’d fucking kissed him.

Or he’d kissed you? At this point the whole memory was foggy.

All you know is that you were mere seconds away from tearing his fucking clothes off in his home gym and letting him have you on any flat surface there was.

You thought how wrong it was. You were paying this guy!

And yet there was a lingering feeling in the back of your mind, a heat clawing its way up your neck, like a constant ache almost at the thought of what would have happened if you hadn’t bolted. The endless possibilities were…vividly playing on your brain the entire plane journey.

‘Fucking perfect’

Even his voice had made a permanent home in your mind, his hot breath against your ear as he pinned you against the wall, allowing you to feel just how turned on he had been.

You obeyed Baela’s wishes and only told Maris about the kiss.

It turned out that Baela’s Dad, Daemon, had really gone all out for this retreat. In a place called Lys (which you’d scarcely heard of) on the other side of the island from where the airport was, it was quiet, with only the odd resident along the streets, but for the most part it was completely remote. You’d have to thank him for the personal taxi later.

Baela had slept through the plane journey entirely so now she just looked out the windows tiredly.

“Is your Dad and Rhaenyra already there?” you ask, seemingly breaking her from a tired trance.

She stretches, “Yeah they’ve been here ages already, the rest of the fam are here as well, we’re the last”

“Why’s that?” you ask.

Baela smirks mischievously, “There’s some tension at the moment, flights were staggered for the sake of people’s sanity”

“Oh right”

You can still hear his voice, the breathy tone he’d used.

‘Fuck…’

Bad girl. Stop it.

At least it’d be nice to have the better part of a week abroad, miles and miles away from the man in question who was making every thought sinful. You could finally relax.

“Is it a big resort?” you asked.

“Oh it’s not one big place, we’ve all got separate little villas. You and I are with Rhaena and her boyfriend, Cregan. Alicent and her fam are in the one next to us. Dad’s done us the courtesy of being the furthest away so we can’t hear him and Rhaenyra going at it”

“Ew Baela” you scrunch your nose, “Is Alicent nice?”

“Nice enough to us. Look out for Aegon though”

“The manwhore one, right. The one we ran into?”

“Yeah, I didn’t tell him you were coming for a reason. The slut will be all over you”

“Yeah no thanks, I might get syphilis” you joke, smoothing your hands over your legs.

You’d changed on the plane to a pair of black shorts and a tank top, and it was a good job you did. It was hot in Lys. Bloody roasting. And if that wasn’t bad enough. It was humid as well, which meant the forgoing of a bra. But c'est la vie, you supposed, you were on holiday, you looked great, felt great and couldn’t wait to get in the sun and just soak it all up.

You and Baela spent the last 30 minutes of the journey installing Tinder on your phone to check out the selection of men (and women, just out of curiosity) in Lys. But being a small island, you were picking up on people who lived hours away, in places you’ve never heard of either.

To your dismay, not many people on Tinder in Lys, shockingly. So you stuffed your phone away as you pulled up to the resort. The resort, or at least the one which you’d share with Rhaena and Cregan, was a single floored villa with what you assumed was two bedrooms on each side. It was nice and quaint.

“Cute” you comment.

Next to that little villa was another bigger one, two floors, slightly more bedrooms you’d wager. That must be where Alicent would be staying.

“She still came even though Viserys died?” you ask Baela, but she only raises her eyebrows.

“It’s not like they were in love”

Fair.

Between the two villas there was a large shared pool that was separated into two sections and a tiny kiosk in the corner where a bartender was packing away stock. Rounding the taxi, you pull your luggage out with a huff.

“Bartender is not too shabby” Baela wiggles her eyebrows and you shove her playfully.

She’s right. He ain’t bad looking at all. Suitably tanned, perhaps even a native to the island, his white shirt only serves to emphasise the way his arms are so toned. It’s a nice distraction for sure, even if nothing ends up happening.

It’s still early afternoon so plenty of time to get dressed and soak up the sun. But as you’re pulling your suitcase out of the taxi, you’re ogling the bartender so hard that it falls out the boot of the car.

“Christ” you whisper.

A woman from the bigger villa rounds the corner with long, curled auburn hair. You assume she must be Alicent, but she looks far too young to have four kids all grown up. She gives Baela a polite wave and turns, “Boys, help them with their bags, would you?”

“Oh no, we’re fine!” you say back, giving her a wave and kneeling to the floor to pick up all your bags.

“Thanks Aeg” Baela says as her bag is plucked from her grasp easily. You pull one bag over your shoulder and attempt to pull your suitcase to its side.

“Struggling?”

You froze.

Oh fuck.

You knew that voice. But you dare not look up.

You stand with your hand on the handle of your suitable, eyes fixed solely on anywhere but where you know he is stood, smirking.

An involuntary breath manages to escape when his large hand, the one you remembered pressing against your waist last time, brushed against yours to wrap around the handle of the suitcase. He takes it effortlessly, making you finally look up at him.

He makes no secret of eyeing every bit of you, savouring the parts he’s never seen before, like the expanse of your legs, having previously always been covered by gym leggings. Smooth and leading to the spot where his eye pauses for a moment. To the tops of your thighs sneaking out of your shorts, he eyes them as well with a dark, determined look. The corner of his lip curled up somewhat once he saw the tank top and your lack of anything underneath.

He looks disgustingly good, at least since the last time you saw him. Hair once again, in that slutty fucking bun.

He’s only wearing shorts, perhaps he’d been sunbathing as well, but clearly not had much of a tan yet. His chest, which you’d never seen bare before, was glistening under the sun, toned and well defined with lines running all over. You caught yourself from looking at the dip of his hips, at the lines leading down to where you knew you wouldn’t be able to not look if you did. So you painfully refrained and looked back into his mismatched eyes, at the glowing pride sitting there at your obvious ogling of his form.

He chuckles quietly and takes your suitcase to take into your room, as if he just needed an excuse to see the inside of it. You stood stock still in your position, watching the muscles of his back move as he walks, as if he just knows you’re watching him.

Which of course, you are.

You bite the inside of your cheek, both ragingly horny and annoyed at the same time.

And when you look over at Baela, she bites her lip, mouthing I didn’t know.

“I’m gonna fucking kill you” you whispered and she laughed nervously, as if really believing you’d do it.

Once the two Targaryen brothers had evacuated your rooms, you pushed Baela inside your shared room and slammed the door.

“Woah woah chill, what’s the big deal?” she asked, searching your eyes.

“Baela, why the fuck is he here?” you whisper, clearly stressed.

“The fuck is up with you?”

“Fuck’s sake, Baela, we kissed!”

She’s quiet for a moment and you expect her to freak out, but she just raises an eyebrow, “Is that it?”

“Baela!”

“You didn’t bang?”

“Fuck’s sake, no! I mean… we might have if I hadn’t run off…but it felt too weird-I was paying him-”

“You ran off?” Baela snorts.

“Shut the fuck up”

“What are you afraid of dick now?”

“Baela, I just-I couldn’t, it felt too weird-it’s not like I didn’t want to but-fuck”

Baela puts her arms on your shoulders, “Babe, calm down. Listen, he's not your personal trainer anymore, mm’kay? He’s just ‘creepy Aemond’, now get your ass in that bikini so we can see the fruits of your labours alright? Get in that fucking sun”

“He’s not creepy, Bae” you reply, exasperated by the situation you’ve been put in.

“Regardless, get out there. Show him what he’s missing” Baela winks, zipping open her bag to get her swimming stuff, “You’re hot, y/n. Show him”

With an annoyed sigh, you shed your clothes, not caring about whether you’re naked in front of Baela or not. A few years in a house-share with her meant you’d walked in on each other nude more than once.

“Well?” she grins, you look over, bottom half of the black bikini now on, and your jaw drops.

“Oh my god” you say, looking over at her. She has a bikini of her own, pale blue in colour and one that compliments her skin tone well. Hers has ties that she’s double knotted, “You look fit”

“Thank you” she says with a smile, as if she knows it anyway.

You pull your bikini top on, making sure your boobs are well rested and adjusted inside the top. The bottoms are double knotted at the hips, the top a classic one that ties around your neck and back. Once the girls are where they’re meant to be, you look over yourself in the mirror, and you had to admit, the one month program did a number on you. Thighs and legs, slightly more toned, curves smoothed over, arms had a bit more shape to them, but nothing that screamed ‘ah yeah I work out’. And more than anything, the ass looked amazing. You knew you had an ass anyway, but now…

“What do you think?” you ask Baela, pulling your hair up messily.

She looks at you in the mirror, “I give it a day” she says as she smears lotion over her body.

“Until?”

“Til Aemond’s had you on every flat surface here”

“You’re fucking gross, you know that”

“Bet you 5 gold dragons”

“You’re on, bitch”

Once suitably sun-creamed up, skin glistening with it, you rest your sunglasses on top of your head and take a deep breath, going out to be greeted by the warm, humid air. Luckily, only Aegon seems to be sat outside on a sunbed at the moment, his hat resting over his face. Baela happily passes you a bright orange cocktail, and not quite ready to get into the pool, you sit on the side and dip your legs in, the smell of chlorine making you feel like you were finally on holiday.

Aegon lifts his hat, squinting, “Hello ladies”

Baela dips into the pool, “Manwhore”

“Well that’s not very nice”

Aegon doesn’t make any further effort to speak, plopping his hat back over his face, one airpod in his ear. Sipping the cool drink you scan the area. The villas are cute and luxurious and from here down the cobbled path you can see the beach that backs onto it all, the glaring white sand calling to you and the rush of the waves against them are somewhat calming.

The little bar in the corner plays some quiet music, not loud enough to disturb anyone from their sunbathing or other holiday-like activities. Alicent sits on the other side underneath a parasol, she’s wearing a classy one-piece and for a woman with four kids grown up, she doesn’t show it one bit, slender and youthful. She reads a book in her lap, sunglasses rested firmly on her nose, a diet-coke in one hand.

The only sound at the moment was the quiet music and the rippling of water as Baela swam leisurely in the pool, careful not to get her hair wet.

It was nice.

Down the cobbled path, you hear the grunts of what sound like two male voices. Arching an eyebrow and tipping your sunglasses up, there’s two men, suitably broad, making their way up to your villa.

“Ah, my favourite cousin has arrived!” this guy is shorter, but not short by any means, he has wild curly brown hair and wearing shorts that reach to about his knees. Not a red flag per se but…

Baela splashes him from her spot in the pool, “See you two are getting along famously”

The other guy with him you recognise as Cregan Stark, Rhaena’s current boyfriend. You’d seen him around when you were at university, but the years had been kind to him and he’d broadened significantly, with a dark beard and a smattering of chest hair covering his torso. At least he’s opted for more stylish shorts though. You give him a polite wave which he returns, he’d always been a softie, it seems that hadn’t changed. Good for Rhaena.

Jace flashes a smile your way, “Is this the infamous y/n?” he asks, rounding the pool to come and stand beside you to introduce himself, “I’m Jace”

It’s at this moment that Aemond comes out of his villa, towel in hand. You try your damndest to not look in his direction as he throws his towel at the sunbed next to Aegon, but when you break and do, he’s not even looking at you. He’s staring daggers into the back of Jace’s head, gaze dark as if he wants to take the poor guy’s head clean off. And he makes a fucking meal out of his, only briefly flitting to you before looking away.

Oh.

You bite back a smile.

“Nice to meet you” you say, shaking his hand politely, looking back to Baela and pulling an awkward look. She’s doing the same thing with her eyebrow raised.

“I’m the other cousin, my brother’s Luke and Joff are in the villa over” he says excitedly. Gods he’s like…a puppy. Even though he very well could be the same age or older, he’s vibrating with excitement. It’s kind of a turn off.

“You’re Rhaenyra’s kids right?” you ask, politely pretending to be interested.

He nods, “Yeah, you probably won’t see her. Her and Daemon are always in the cities being tourists”

This attempt at conversation is…taking it all from you. He’s cute, but not fuckable cute. And with Aemond in your peripheral pretending to be on his phone, but secretly watching every word that’s exchanged, it’s kind of exciting to see him…jealous perhaps.

You just nod and agree to whatever he says. Aemond visibly bristles, tongue poking the inside of his cheek when Jace signs off with, “You’re welcome to come to our villa whenever you want”

A bit…forward if anything. But you thank him politely and Jace eventually retreats down the cobbled path to his villa, which he’s helpfully stated is only about a 2 minute walk.

Cregan asks, “Where’s Rhaena?”

“At the beach”

Cregan gives a polite smile, going off to the white sandy beach in search of his girlfriend. Baela swims up to you, leaning on the side of the pool as you sip the last of your cocktail.

“Is he always so adept with women?” you ask with a smirk, Baela snorts, “several times I caught him looking below the chin”

“Can you blame him” Baela returns, “Nah, he’s harmless really, you coming in?” she asks, swimming on her back to the middle of the pool.

Sighing, you pull the sunglasses from your head and put them aside, padding over to the ladder.

Even though you don’t look, you feel the intensity of his gaze. Raking all over your skin, as if the more he stares, the more skin he’ll be able to see. Perhaps he’d wondered what you looked like beneath the black fabric of the bikini, what it might feel like to undo the ties of them and let the fabric peel off your moistened skin, exposing your most intimate areas to the humid air.

Your skin blossoms at the thought, even with how hot it is. The sun makes it no easier to cool off from these musings, only serving to intensify the electric bolt that radiates between the both of you, becoming stronger the closer you are to him.

He watches as your legs dip into the pool the further you descend down the ladder, the water moistening your sun-cream lotioned skin, slipping away in waves as the droplets lap against your toned thighs. Aemond thinks he might die on the spot when the water surges against your breasts, instantly making the supple skin there glisten in the sun.

And if that wasn’t enough, you reach up in a surprisingly tempting gesture and pull the clip from your hair. He’d rarely seen your hair down, but here with the ends dipping into the pool, each strand glimmering a soft halo around your head with the afternoon glow, the reins he has pulled taut inside his head are slipping recklessly.

Pretending to scroll through his phone, his brother Aegon smirks beneath his hat, shamelessly watching Aemond’s resolve slowly crumble. But you do a good job of barely looking at him for the remainder of the afternoon. The same cannot be said for him.

He realises he’s fucked when Baela, the ever playful person she is, dunks you below the water and every bit of you is wet, water cascading off every curve as you laugh and wipe your eyes. Even when you pull yourself onto the ladder out of the pool, giving him the perfect view of your ass, pulling the bikini a little bit up your hips as you do so, he manages to somehow hold it together.

Being late in the afternoon, the sun’s beginning to make its way down, so with a slight shiver you pull a towel around you, raking some fingers through your wet hair to get the chlorine-induced tangles out. You lean over the bar, waiting for the bartender to turn around,

“Baela, what do you want?”

“Whatever you’re having!”

The bartender flashes a smile once he recognises your presence, eyes flitting to your chest pressed between your arms as you lean over the bar before returning to your eyes.

“What can I get for you” he asks lowly and your head cocks at the accent. It’s kinda hot.

“Do you have gin and tonic?” you ask politely,

He braces the bar, the vein in his arm visible from this angle, “We do, but I think for a pretty woman like you I can make something better”

You raise an eyebrow, “like what?”

He twirls a glass of something behind his back, clearly showing off his bartending skills, “How about something with ouzo?”

You shrug with a smile, “Never tried it but sure”

As he mixes the drink, you peer over your shoulder at Baela and then to Aemond. He’s already watching you. It’s that look again. The one he’d given you last time in his home gym. The one where it feels like he’s looking right inside you, the darkened, determined look. You keep his gaze, thinking he will just look away like he had before. But he doesn’t.

A muscle in his jaw twitches with annoyance. Or perhaps not even annoyance. Something else.

Once you’ve polished off several cocktails, Aemond leaves with Aegon to go inside, presumably to change clothes, but not before giving you a look over his shoulder. Anyone else would have thought he was livid. To be honest, for a second you thought he very well could be. For what reason he had to be livid? You had no idea.

You spent the night slathered in mosquito repellent and sat outside with Baela, Rhaena and Cregan. You’d wanted to be comfortable so decided on a dress with spaghetti straps. It was a comfortably warm evening, with fire-lit torches illuminating the space around the villa. Rhaena had arrived back in the late afternoon, flushed in the face and hair tousled and you and both Baela had noted that Cregan’s shorts were untied. The sun was clearly getting to Rhaena. Her and Cregan was a fairly new thing and she’d been both shocked and giddy when he’d offered to be her plus one for the trip.

Sometime in the night, a figure that was clearly Aemond and another white haired girl walked towards their villa.

“Helaena!” Rhaena shouted over with a smile. Both figures stopped and your stomach fluttered with nervousness when Aemond’s eyes landed on you briefly. Then a slight pang of disappointment when he said goodbye to the woman next to him to slip inside the villa.

The ethereal looking woman comes over excitedly, sitting beside you, “Oh my gosh, when did you guys get here!”

“Cregan and I came yesterday” Rhaena smiles,

“Yeah but they were probably in bed all day sleeping, right Rhae?” Baela murmurs into her drink earning a smack from her sister.

“Well it’s nice to meet you, Cregan” Helaena smiles politely before turning to you, “And you are?”

“I’m y/n, Helaena was it?” you ask, shaking her soft hand. She was really pretty, like a fairy just floating around. She had dangly earrings with ladybirds on them and was wearing a flowy cream dress.

“Oh so you’re y/n, I’ve heard so much about you!”

It catches you off guard slightly, but you nod and then turn to Baela furrowing your eyebrows confusedly. She’s heard so much about you? The hell does that mean?

The rest of the night is really pleasant and Helaena stays with you all chatting for the remainder of it. She’s really nice it turns out. It’s a wonder she’s even related to her brothers. She tells you all about the family drama, which piques your excitement and that her youngest brother Daeron, didn’t end up coming since he’s studying abroad, so she came instead. And you’re grateful she did, it’s nice to have other new female company.

In your shared bedroom, you and Baela chat well into the night, about a plethora of things. But one subject you refuse to broach is him. Nope. Can’t talk about him. He’s only a few metres away, if you let your mind wander too much it’ll all be over.

It’s a restless night’s sleep and your subconscious certainly doesn’t help. All your mind can allow you to remember is the way he touched you, how he had pressed against you, how his lips were slotting against yours almost desperately, his low moan.

The next morning, after having a continental breakfast, Baela puts on a long maxi dress.

“Everyone’s going to the city for a shop around, wanna come?” Baela meets your eyes in the mirror.

“Shopping? Nah, that’s fine I’ll just stay here, want to relax a little bit and get some more sun”

“You sure? Feel bad leaving you here on your own”

“Is everyone going with you?” you ask, pulling some shorts over your black bikini.

“Nearly, except for Dad and Rhaenyra. Sure you don’t mind?” she asks,

“Course not, have a good time”

Pulling a shawl over your shoulders you see Baela and everyone off before trudging down the cobbled path to the white, sandy beach, plopping yourself on the sand and opening a book you’d borrowed from the shelf near the bar. You let the sun beat down on your shoulders, the soft wind blowing through your hair and listening to the waves in the quiet hair while reading a book just seems so calming.

You’d already gotten quite a bit of sun yesterday and your legs had glazed with a sun-kissed colour, as well as your arms. So much so, the bikini had left a few lines where the straps were, if only very faintly. It was always easy for you to catch the sun. Pulling off your shorts, you lean back on your elbows to read some more and get some colour on your thighs.

Early afternoon came by quickly and before you knew it, you could feel the tingle of pinkness on your shoulders, where your bikini was tied at your neck.

Fuck.

You’d forgotten to put suncream there, Baela had been the one to reach the difficult spot yesterday.

Packing up your things, you carry your shorts and shawl in one hand and trudge back to the villa. It’s quiet, everyone must still be in the city. Your hair had somewhat curled up from the sea breeze so you ran your fingers through it once inside, snagging on some tangles.

Now, where was the aftersun. Baela had it…

“Not a fan of shopping?”

Your head swung around at the sudden, familiar voice. And there he was, looking annoyingly hot, leaning against the doorway to your villa, a toned arm supporting his weight. Again, he wasn’t wearing a shirt and his shorts hung on his hips, making your eyes dip to those lines that lead…

No.

He has a lazy smile on his face, happy to have got you flustered and allowing his eyes once again to look over you in just the black bikini once more.

“No, not really” is all you can muster, going back to looking for the aftersun with urgency. But really you didn’t want him to see the pink flush on your cheeks. Seeing him like this, no less being alone with him, especially looking as good as he does, was about to drive you to madness.

He hums and walks forward into the village, hands in his pockets, “Looking for something?”

“U-uh, just the aftersun” you struggle, clearing your throat and cursing yourself for the shake in your voice at being in his presence once again.

“Ah” he responds.

You gasp when one of his arms braces the counter in front of you and he bends down to the mini fridge, opening it to produce a bottle of said aftersun. You could feel his presence at your back, broad and warm, all encompassing. Swallowing thickly, you take a breath. It must be the smell of something on his skin that gives off a subtle scent, but whatever it is makes your stomach flutter and a warm bloom settles in your abdomen.

You go to reach for the bottle, but he pulls back, and you meet his gaze. His look is soft, but dark and steadfast.

“Where”

Jesus fucking christ. My heart is beating so fucking fast right now.

“Um…back of my neck” it comes out a whisper, and he doesn’t miss the way your breasts move in the bikini as you nervously breathe slightly heavier.

“Difficult to reach by yourself” he muses, his voice rumbling in his chest as he is standing right behind you. You bite your lip. Is this really fucking happening right now.

You shiver when his large hand moves your hair from your back to one side of your neck, the feeling of his fingers brushing against the skin there almost makes an involuntary sound come out your mouth. But you repress it, closing your eyes to grab hold of your reins.

One hand fiddles with the single knot of the tie at your neck, slowly, his breath steady. And he finds the one he needs and pulls slowly, unwinding the bow until the bikini top is loosened. Your hands move to hold the front of your bikini up to cover your breasts as the fabric falls. Your mind is at war with itself, stuck between thinking this is wrong and it should stop, and then the more dominant side thinks, he’s here, doing this, you might as well see where it goes.

Even though it was only one thin strap, when he sees your almost bare back right before him, you hear him exhale lowly and you only know because you feel his hot breath against it. He deposits some cold aftersun in his hand and slowly reaches out to the slightly pink skin of your nape, to spread it across. Your body prickles with anticipation at his touch, coupled with the chill of the liquid. Nobody says a thing as he massages it into your skin, not quite feathery but he applies pressure, making sure to roll his fingers into the muscles there, so that you really feel him.

He continues for a moment and then his other hand joins. You’re unsure if there is actually any aftersun left at this point and he is just finding an excuse to touch you, but you don’t stop him. Desire pools in your stomach as his hands drag south, down the expanse of your back, to the sides, nearly touching your own hands where they are covering your breasts. Your eyelashes flutter as you sigh at the feeling, his large palms working the moistened skin. It is this point your eyes open when you feel his very obvious erection, pressing firmly against your buttocks.

You feel his breath close to your nape, and it all seems to fall apart as he presses his lips there. Once, twice, three times…and then again as he drags his lips up your neck to behind your ear.

“It’s not fair…you getting to walk around like this…” he whispers next to your ear, his hands trace the contours of your breasts, “...every fucking guy ogling you…”

One of his hands smoothes down your side, resting at your hip, fiddling with the single knot of your bikini there.

“...wanting to fuck you…”

He just lets his hang rest there, neither touching you where you need him the most. Your blood is rushing around your body, humming with desire. Frustrated at not being allowed the pleasure it so desperately needs.

“...but you won’t let them, will you. You’ll just let them look, like the needy attention slut you are”

His words are unexpected but they have their effect, and you can practically feel your arousal at what he says. One of his hands sneaks beneath yours, to grab one of your breasts tightly, almost possessively, pinching the nipple between his dexterous fingers. It makes you breathe out a quiet moan, your body slowly giving in.

“Do you have any idea how much I wanted to fuck that stupid little attitude out of you?” he says, his breath hot on the shell of your ear.

He moulds your breast in his palm effortlessly, waiting for an answer.

But you moan louder in both surprise and arousal when he squeezes it harshly, “I asked you a question”

“Fuck-no, I didn’t…” you somehow manage, cracking your eyes open slightly. You see him only a little in your peripheral, expecting him to be smirking. But he’s not, he is dead serious. Which somehow serves to awaken your desire even more.

His other hand slips beneath the fabric of your bikini and he himself lets out a guttural moan feeling how turned on you already are, the pads of his fingers collect the wetness already there, moving up to circle your slit with your own slick. Your mouth falls open slightly, body trembling with anticipation. God why does it feel so good.

“I would have had you in every way imaginable…if you’d stayed…” he murmurs against you, speeding up the motions of his finger.

“Fuck…Aemond-please”

He spins you around quickly, the top of your bikini falling in a useless mess to the floor and he quite literally growls at the sight of your tits, as if he’d imagined what they might look like for a long time. His jaw tightens at the sight and he pushes the bottoms down to the floor, sinking to his knees almost instantly so he is staring hungrily at your cunt, wet and dripping for him.

His hands remain at your hips, his fingers bruising red marks into them.

“Please what”

Shit.

Your face flushes red at the sight of him so close to your intimate area, and you would be lying if you said you weren’t a little embarrassed, but his pupils are so dilated with pure lust, it almost makes you forget.

Your body jolts when he slaps your pussy hard, sending a jolt of pleasure through your clit and clawing up your spine, a desperate sound escapes you. He need not say anything else.

“Please, I need you” you whine pathetically and he huffs, as if annoyed, using his large hands to part your legs even further, the counter biting into your lower back.

“That’s what I fucking thought”

He dives into your pussy with his tongue, swirling the soft, wet muscle around your clit a few times deliciously before venturing down, fucking you with his tongue and lapping up your slick like a man starved. He grips your hips as if you might move away from him, keeping you right where he wants you and all the while your desperate whines and the lewd sound of his mouth are the only thing that fills the otherwise quiet villa.

You pray nobody returns, because what you’re doing right now deserves to be loud.

God, how long had it been since a man last treated you this way. Since a man had known what to do with you so confidently, to have you a moaning mewling mess.

It’s here when you look down, that you realise he’s fucking moaning while eating your pussy, almost sounding as if he’s enjoying this far more than you are. Enjoying your taste, your scent, everything. He briefly looks up at you, drinking in the indulgent look on your pinkened face, before delving deeper, his sharp nose rubbing against your clit with every move he makes with his tongue within you.

You nearly lose it entirely when he presses two fingers inside, immediately crooking them to rub against that delicious spongy spot that makes your mouth hang open.

“Ohfuck” you whimper as he doubles his efforts on your clit while pistoning his long, slender fingers within you. It feels like so much and your hand comes down to his wrist, feeling your climax curl in your gut and threatening to explode faster than ever. But he groans and uses his other hand to push it away, blissfully ignoring you and going faster in an effort to make you come apart around him.

“You gonna come on my fucking tongue” he growls into your pussy, his ministrations never stopping for a second and in fact his lips lock around your clit to suck. A desperate moan spills from your mouth, not even passing your brain.

“Yes, yes…” you pant, “Fuck-Aemond”

Your hands brace the counter as your climax is ripped from you by the force of his fingers and mouth. Pure, white hot pleasure wakes every nerve in your body, prickling up your back and into your limbs, making them go numb. You barely register the sound you even make as Aemond continues to fuck you with his fingers through it, lapping up every bit of your essence that comes out, moaning and chanting ‘good fucking girl’.

It genuinely takes you a moment to recover from it, your chest shining with sweat from the effort. But before you know which way is up, he rises, hands under your thighs to pull you up onto the counter, which is good since your legs were starting to give in from the force of your orgasm.

“Aem-”

His lips are on yours before you even have a chance to speak, allowing your legs to part so he might press flush against your weeping cunt. You feel his erection, hard and thick against you and it only makes you want it more. He takes you in with his lips as if it’s the air he breathes, a mess of lips, tongues and the taste of you, sweet like nectar.

“Fuck, want you so bad” he breathes between kisses, outright moaning when your fingers card into the hair at his nape and grip.

“Fuck me, I want to feel all of you”

His eyes peer open down at you, his chest heaving with desire.

“Please, don’t make me beg”

At this, he does smirk, pushing his shorts further down his hips and freeing his cock, “I’d like to see you beg, baby”

Christ.

He’s much bigger than you’ve had before, definitely bigger than your pathetic ex was anyway (not like it’s hard). You take him into your palm, hot, weighty and heavy and he tilts his head back at the feeling as you give his length a few languid strokes, although there really is no need since he’s been constantly hard the second he saw you come out the taxi the day before. The way his face contorts when you rub your thumb over his weeping tip makes you think he is painfully hard, aching for any kind of release.

God, if this is what he looks like now, you want to see his face when he is fucking you stupid.

You guide him to your waiting core, his head barely kissing your entrance.

“I’ve got an IUD, please-”

He doesn’t need to hear any more, his hands reach out to grip your waist, pulling you forward as he pushes, letting out a guttural moan as he sinks into you to the hilt. He moves your leg to hook around him, trying to get as close to you as possible.

“Fuck…” he moans with a shudder as his cock is squeezed by your tightness, “god you’re so fucking tight”

Everything about this has your blood on fire. His cock fills you so perfectly, his moans, his words, the way his hands are holding you apart for him to use you. One of his hands moves to your nape, grabbing the hair there in his grip tightly, and the tension against your hair makes you moan out as well.

But he doesn’t move.

“Aemond…”

“Beg for it” he orders, his stomach taut with the effort it takes to hold himself back. Frustrated and turned on beyond belief, you try and move your hips for friction. His hand flies from your hip to your jaw, fingers bruising into your cheeks, making you look directly at him and your eyes meet his, wide-eyed and heavily dilated, “Beg for it like the fucking slut I know you are”

Once again his words ignite that fire that creeps down your spine, and you feel every bit of him. Every vein on his cock, how it twitches within your heat and how it kisses your cervix with how big it is.

“Please fuck me, just move Aemond-please”

You don’t have the resolve to deny it now. You want it so bad, more than you’ve wanted anything ever.

He wets his lips, “That’s it” he coos.

He pulls almost all the way out before slamming back inside, watching the way your tits bounce when his hips snap against yours with need. He doesn't start gently, too pent up for that, nor does he build up to it. He fucks you on the counter like he’s not been able to get a moment’s rest from thinking about this for weeks. The hand in your hair tightens impossibly, holding you there while his cock drags against your walls, still sensitive from your previous climax.

Aemond watches his cock disappear over and over again into you, coated in your slick, revelling in the filthy sounds it makes when he slaps against you. And when he delivers a particularly hard thrust, brushing against that spot inside, your hand flies to your mouth to contain your moans, concerned that if anyone did come back, they’d be able to hear you.

“None of that” he growls, ripping your hand away from your mouth, his eyes glimmering with mischief, “I wanna hear how good I make you feel”

It’s impossible to hold back. He sees it all as a challenge now as he takes your hips with both hands, fucking you even faster if it were possible. He adjusts his hips and his stomach muscles, toned and hard ripple with the effort, his strong arms caging you completely in and he looks down at you as if he wants to see exactly the moment it happens.

You grip his forearm tightly, “Aemond-I’m-”

“Fuck I can feel you squeezing me…you gonna cum for me, hm? All over my cock” he breathes.

You nod desperately, “Yesyes…please…cum inside me-”

His brow arches smugly at this, a smirk etching on his features, “You want me to fill you up, huh”

“Gods - yes”

“Hm” he hums, allowing his large hand to encircle your throat, only barely squeezing, “gonna make you work for it”

It’s when he squeezes your neck that you shut your eyes, face contorted in pleasure and that coil inside snapping forcefully. You can practically feel the rhythm of your heartbeat through your clit as you let go completely, gripping onto him for dear life. You don’t know what he means by ‘work for it’ but you don’t really care right now. The pleasure comes in waves over your body and Aemond pistons in and out through it, a lazy smile on his face watching you as you orgasm.

You realise in all this that he’s not stopped. His hips continue to press into you faster and faster, now bullying the overly sensitive spots inside that have been decimated by your climax.

“Aemond?...” you manage with a breathy moan, quickly feeling overstimulated.

“Told you I’d make you work for it” he muses, moving his thumb to circle your clit.

You gasp out, back arching against him as he tries to work yet another orgasm out of you, “I-I can’t-”

“Give it to me” he orders, all while keeping that breakneck pace as he fucks you, sparking white-hot and borderline unbearable pleasure in two ways against your body. He leans forward to lick a fat stripe up the column of your neck all the way up to your ear and the change in position has his cock once again directly drag against that spot inside, one that makes your eyes shut, face contort and stars begin to appear behind them.

“Give it to me like the good girl you are” he whispers as he bites down on the skin of your neck, marking you for himself.

With a strangled cry, you give in, thighs trembling against his muscled sides and you feel another gush of arousal coat his cock by the loud sounds it's still making. He fucks you through this one, his strokes becoming sloppy, and you go limp in his arms feeling that he may also not last much longer.

“Good girl-fuck” he cums with a shattered moan after that, his head buried into your neck as you feel his hot spend paint your walls, giving a few desperate thrusts until his cock twitches from overstimulation, still seated within you. Still coming down from the two close orgasms he’d given you, you take a moment to come back to earth, eyes cracking open after a while.

Even with him still inside you, you can feel the combination of his spend and your own arousal leaking out of you, coating your thighs. He pulls his head tiredly from your neck to look at you. And he looks amazing, so blissed out, a bit pink in the face, but there’s a new softness there now where there wasn’t before.

“Gods, you’re so perfect…”

You kiss him desperately, not wanting this feeling to end as you both come down from your respective highs. And there’s a part inside of you that is self-conscious that perhaps all he wanted was sex, and that he doesn’t like you at all, so you savour this moment, concerned that after all this…there might be nothing.

“Go on a date with me…” he says suddenly and you look up at him. For the first time since you’ve known him, he looks nervous, “please…”

Combined with the thoughts you were just having, his words are so overwhelming that for the time it takes you to think of an answer, you just laugh breathlessly, which makes him arch a confused brow.

“Date?” you ask, wondering if you’d heard correctly, “not to the gym I hope”

“No, not at the gym” he laughs, “I…I’d like to get to know you better” he confesses.

You huff a laugh, “You’re literally inside me right now”

He lets out his own laugh, and it’s nice to see him genuinely smile, “not like that”

His chest is still moving with his breathing, still slightly laboured, and your eyes glance over him for a moment, taking him all in. His hair has somewhat come free of his bun, so you tuck a strange behind his ear in a gesture that makes Aemond’s heart squeeze.

“I’d love to”

The smile on his face is unmistakable, and not a hint of smugness to it.

Once he’s pulled his softening cock from your core and you’ve both cleaned yourself up, it overcomes both of you that you can’t keep your hands off each other, can’t spend a moment without lips locked. Everyone’s definitely going to notice.

“I don’t want to hide it from anyone, if you don’t” you say in a whisper.

He squeezes your ass lovingly, giving it a playful swat, “I certainly don’t”

A few hours later, once the sun has started to hit the tops of all the buildings and the sky turns a hazy red with the sunset, you sit beside him, legs dipped in the pool and a shawl pulled around your shoulders from the slight chill. You let your head rest on his shoulder, utterly content as he kisses the crown of your head, in a shockingly loving gesture despite how he was railing you earlier. One strong arm wrapped around your waist.

“Fuck” you whisper.

“What” he asks amused.

“I owe Baela 5 gold dragons”

taglist (sorry if I missed anyone, I’m crap, bold means I couldn’t tag)

@jacevelaryonswife @lovelykhaleesiii@urmomsgirlfriend1@iiamthehybrid @namelesslosers @chainsawsangel @warmfieldofgrass @mynameisbaby9 @afro-hispwriter @tempo-rary-fix @toodlesxcuddles @definitelynotsatans @svtansdaddyx @tssf-imagines @darkenchantress @vrtualfairy @fan-goddess @skikikikiikhhjuuh @helaenaluvr @sarahkimtae @blackxisxmyxcolour @castellomargot @girlwith-thepearlearring @julczimozart @amazingdisneyfansblog @slutforaemond@thedamewithabook@Iiamthehybrid@sahvlren@Whoknows333@cosmoeticss

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changisworld · 3 months

Text

Caught out (part two of this headcanon)

PART TWO OF THE PERV!FELIX POST

i recommend reading the headcanon(linked above) but you don’t need to:)

word count; 4,113

18+MDNI!! smut warnings under the cut

©ANY translation, copy & paste, posting of my work is strictly forbidden for ANY posts/ writing i post.

any comments/ re blogs are deeply appreciated!!

main masterlist here

SMUT WARNINGS: pet names; bunny,babe,baby, slut,gorgeous etc, praise, degradation, cunnilingus, mention of sex toys(using some too) dacryphilia, brief biting, marking, overstimulation, mention of safe word(not used though), multiple orgasms, squirting, nippleplay, cum eating, mention of fantasies, Dom!Felix Sub!Reader, mean felix but soft at the end, Perv!Felix, slight perv! reader?

Felix is currently sitting in his bedroom, phone in hand & purposely holding his breath just so the recording, the recording of the noises you were making, you masterbating through the shared bedroom wall, whining & moaning as the wet sounds fill the room you are in, weren’t being ruined by the noise of his breaths.You were completely unaware that Felix has videos & images of you, unaware that he is RECORDING your moans for his own sick pleasure, to look back on it, to add it to his collection of you. He heard the incessant vibrating of your vibrator switch off, much to his dismay, then he hears you getting up & grabbing something before heading to your bathroom, presumably to shower.

Felix stays quiet until he hears the shower turning on, before he silently creaks open his door & tiptoes to your bedroom, only one thing in his mind, your panties. He gets to your bedroom(thank goodness for your bedroom door being open so it won’t make noise) before stepping inside.

He instantly realised the raw smell of you, your juices, filling the room. He would have moaned at the smell if he knew you weren’t just across the hallway. He begins scanning the room for the clothes you were wearing, hoping you had took them all off in your bedroom before walking for the shower, which turns him even more, imagining you walking from your room to the shared bathroom.. naked. He looks over at the side of the bed you sleep in, but your clothes aren’t there. He frowns, but doesn’t let it dishearten him, as he gets onto his hands & knees to look under your bed &… oh. Felix can’t help but widen his eyes at what he sees under your bed. Your blue, long wand vibrator lying there, on top of a box. Felix can’t help but slide the vibrator out from under the bed & hold it, examining the blue object in his hand. He takes a mental note that it still smells like you, raw & beautiful. before he can mentally slap himself, he pokes his tongue out past his lips & licks the top of the wand, the same part that was on you, pleasuring you.. not even ten minutes ago. He lets out a shaky breath at your taste. He licks the top of it like a lollipop a few more times before listening to make sure he can still hear the shower on, before he reaches under your bed again to grab the box the vibrator was sitting on, seeing what is inside. He knew what was probably going to be inside the box but he didn’t expect this. Inside the box, there was fluffy handcuffs, a glass dildo along with a natural looking dildo beside it. There were other things like nipple clamps, butt plugs, flavoured lube etc. Felix lifts his shaky hand to begin touching it but before his hand makes any sort of contact, he hears your bedroom door swing open. Felix jumps & let’s go of the box & it falls the small distance to the floor, sending some of the toys flying.

“Felix what- why are you holding my sex toys?” you look at him, wide eyed & in shock, your brain running at a million miles a second.

“I-i, i’m so-so sorry y/n, i, i dont kn-know what came over me.. i’ll le-leave the house y/n, i’m so so sorry, i know i’m a cr-creep i’ll move out” Felix mouth is completely rambling out, his eyes watery & him visibly shaking. He is trying to look at you in your eyes to show his sincerity but can’t help but have his eyes trail over your figure in nothing but a towel, water still dripping down.

“Felix!! just calm down! just tell me what the fuck you’re doing!!”You notice the way his eyes are trailing you & you smile internally, despite the situation, you know how hot felix is… you’re not blind. You get into your knees in front of him & take his shaky hands in yours

“i.. i just, y/n i know im a pervert im so sorry! it just.. it st-started as a crush but, i’m sorry y/n i swear! what can i-i do to make it up to you?” His voice is so shaky & he has tears dripping down his face at this point, poor boy is so scared.

“Well… why not you just start off with telling me everything you’ve done about me without my knowledge hm?” you smile a bit at him as you wipe your thumb across his cheeks to clean his cheeks from his tears

“you-you’re not, mad at me? or disgusted?” Felix’ expression changes slightly, his lips stop trembling & he isn’t shaking as much, instead his eyebrows stop frowning & his eyes look a bit less glossy.

“i AM disgusted, i mean, how can such an attractive man, my own best friend have the balls to go through my sex toys box hm? i’m guessing you also DO know where all my panties have gone hm? i should have maybe came looking, would have found them in your room wouldn’t i? Tell me felix, where do you keep them?” You continue smiling at him, now caressing his hands in your own, refusing to break eye contact.

“i- i, i keep them under my pillows, on- on both sides, so i can always, always smell you, i’ll gi-give them all back!!” Felix clenches your hands in his own & you decide to pull away from his.

“who said i wanted them back hm? i find it flattering you steal them from me if i’m being honest. Tell me felix, what do you do with them? be honest. completely honest.”

You lean in & whisper slightly to him, moving your hands to the lower part of his thighs & caressing them.

“I-i like to sm-smell them, i like to lick them too, so i ca-can know what you taste like. I a-also like to jerk off while holding it in the same hand, so your sce-scent is over my dick. i’m so sorry y/n i mean it! I also, ugh!” Felix groans with embarrassment before continuing; “I like to put them in my mouth too as a gag to muffle my moans as i think about you y/n! y/n.. why are you asking me th-this??” He hiccups.

“Because i have a right to know don’t i? i mean.. it’s ME you’re thinking about, stealing off of just for your own fantasies.. tell me Felix, how did i taste hm?”

You look into his eyes for any discomfort before gliding your hands up his thighs, resting on either side of his crotch, noticing the tent that’s forming beneath his basketball shorts. You can tell he’s not wearing boxers due to how visible the print is, there’s nothing hiding it, luckily for you.

“y/n, i- you taste good, addicting even. i couldn’t get enough, it’s why i kept stealing your panties, it wont happen anymore.”

His breathing shakes slightly as he feels your hands move up but he tries to stay as collected as possible.

“you’re so cute when you’re flustered felix, you could have just asked me straight up instead of being a creepy perv” you say quietly in his ear, seduction in your voice. You bite his earlobe then plant a kiss to his jawline then look at him to see his reaction. His freckled cheeks are as red as cherries & his eyes are already blown out. You smirk before looking at his lips & without thinking, you lean in & kiss him.

The kiss is unsurprisingly a bit messy, Felix’ shock playing a part in that. you let your tongue into his mouth & he whines slightly. You begin sucking on his tongue as you undo the tie keeping your towel in place & climbing onto his lap, now completely nude on top of him. Felix’ hands move to your waist & he pulls away once he feels you’re naked frame.

“y/n what are you doing? doesn’t this feel wrong?” He says in a strained voice, looking straight into your beautiful eyes, but his hands don’t budge. he is deeply praying that you don’t agree with his words.

“Oh, so me kissing you naked is wrong but you creeping on me for god knows how long is fine? If you don’t want this then fine” You say condescendingly, moving on him as if you were going to get off just for him to pull you straight back on top of him, on top of the cold small wet patch above his covered cock, unsure if it’s his precum or your slick. You giggle to him slightly at his actions but get off him anyway.

“Why not get some of the flavoured lube you were fawning over & come join me on the bed hm?” You say, voice raising in pitch at the end by accident, trying to seem cool & collected as if your heart isn’t racing in your chest.

Felix scrambles to pick up the multiple bottles of lube that’s still on the floor

“Which one? there’s uh, there’s peach, cherry & lemon flavour?” He holds them all up to you which makes you giggle.

“You can choose, it’s you who’s gonna be eating my pussy felix, or would you rather just use your tongue hm?” You raise your eyebrows at him & smile.

“God, you’re better than any wet dream i’ve ever had of you.” He says in a grainy voice before basically sprinting over to the bed to stand in front of you. He puts his knee between your slightly parted legs as he leans in & kisses you again, your back hitting the mattress as you find his toned abs under his shirt, before helping him get rid of it completely. He starts to kiss down your neck, nipping at it every once in a while, before moving to your collarbone & then to your breasts. He wastes no time in cupping your left breast with his hand while his lips suction around your right nipple. He swirls your hard bud with his tongue & nibbles on it, releasing sweet whines & moans not only from your chest but also his. He repeats the action with the left breast, leaving all of his spit on the breast he was just sucking on. You weave your fingers through his hair & tug slightly which makes felix groan deeply.

“Fuck felix, if i knew you were this good with your tongue i woulda let you suck on me like this a long time ago.” you scrunch your eyes together due to the pleasure as you feel felix smile at your words. A few seconds later you feel his other hand working his way down towards where you wanted him the most. You feel his slightly cold fingers cup your pussy & you begin squirming to get more friction & you feel a harsh & loud smack to your pussy in retaliation which makes you yelp into his lips.

“You really are desperate aren’t you? just because i was scared to admit my fantasies for you doesn’t mean i’m scared to treat you the way you deserve now that you’re under me, got it?”

You are a bit taken aback by his words since you thought you were going to probably end up domming him but you’re not upset by the change of plans. You nod your head, eyes blown out.

“Do you know about the traffic light system, baby? hm? green means ‘keep going’ & you are enjoying it so i’m safe to continue, orange means slow down or stop that specific thing & red means hard stop, can you remember that hm? we should create a safeword baby.”

You swear you can feel your heart about to jump out of your ribcage at the pet name & you nod instantly.

“icecream. icecream can be the safe word.”

Felix smiles at you as he keeps his hand cupped over your pussy, his cold rings now turning warm from the heat of your skin.

“Okay baby, tell me what you’re into, if you’re good, i’ll make your world spin, i promise.”

Felix kisses your collarbones & bites them lightly, enjoying the way you twitch slightly at the feeling.

“I li-like praise but i dont mind degradation either, i, just surprise me felix i can handle it i promise.”

You reach down & put your hand above his own & try push his hand onto your pussy more to try get some sort of new sensation but he bites your collarbone a bit harder which makes you release your grip.

“Okay if you say so bunny but i want you to keep that same mindset when you’re crying begging for me to give you a break.”

You notice the look in his eyes but don’t have much time to say anything before he moves from where he is to slide in-between your legs.

“I can eat until im full right?” Felix asks in a deep voice, looking right into your eyes. you nod enthusiastically. “okay good, keep your legs open no matter what.” You grab your legs at the behind of your knees & pull them up towards your chest to give him full access.

He begins by kissing the under part of your thighs & giving them a few hickeys on each side before finally turning his attention to the place you want him the most. He looks up at you & sees you have your eyes closed already & he smirks to himself before licking a slow long stripe from your hole to the top of your clit & you let out a breathy whine.

“You taste fucking amazing, better than your used panties by a fucking mile.” Felix says, voice already somehow sounding fucked out. You smirk at his words & blush slightly but it doesn’t last for long as he dives fully into your pussy, slurping, sucking, nibbling, toying with your labia as his nose is bashing against your clit, fucking your hole with his tongue at insane speed. You can already feel your brain going numb & you can’t even think straight, the only noise you can make is shaky breathed moans & whines as he adds two fingers into your dripping hole. Felix finds your gummy spot inside your walls & starts instantly abusing it as he leans back & spits onto your clit just to lick it back up again.

“Fe-felix i’m cuh-cumming!”

your legs start shaking as you cum all over his fingers, your wetness dripping down your ass onto the bed & your legs begin to shut around his head but he’s quick to push them back open.

“i told you to keep them open y/n, keep. them.open.”

His words don’t even register in your brain as he hits your swollen pussy again before getting some of the peach flavoured lube & pouring the cold substance straight onto your cunt. he gives it a second to drip down & in the meantime gets the nipple clamps he seen in the box earlier & decides to put them on you. you squeal as he clamps them down & try reach out for his arm but he swats you away before lying back in his previous spot.

“Hold your legs again for my baby please, or will I need to hold them since you’re too dumb to even listen to me hm?”

You sniffle & reach down with your weak arms to hold your legs again, not as wide as before. Before you could even take another breath in felix is back to licking your pussy as if it was his last meal.

“f-felix too m-m-MUCH!”

you try to squirm away from his face & lips but he’s quick in pushing you back down onto the bed to continue eating.

“You said i can eat until i’m full, i’m not full yet. give me one more & then i’ll fuck you, how does that sound hm?”

You can’t physically say any understandable words but you try relax a bit more as he continues devouring you. You pull on the nipple clamps a bit to get a bit of the painful pleasure you crave. Felix adds another finger into you & you realise he’s moaning into your pussy, sending vibrations straight to your core, you feel your orgasm approaching again but it feels… different. You try to warn him but you are completely in your own world, nothing but a drooling, babbling & pliant mess. Your legs begin shaking more violently & you let out a shriek as you squirt all over felix’ fingers, face, tongue & all over your own bed. Felix kisses your thigh before finally leaving your pulsating ball of nerves some space to breathe & catch a break.

“So dirty y/n… if i knew you would get off this badly on this… me, or even the situation? you really are just as sick as i am arent you, dumb slut?”

Felix leans over & gives your cheek a slight slap then forces you to look over at him, your eyes still slightly crossed over & tears in your eyes along with down your cheeks.

“Do you want to finish here baby? you look worn out.”

He kisses the same cheek he just slapped & nuzzles his face into the side of your neck, waiting for you to say something. He takes off the nipple clamps & gently massages your nipples to help with the ringing slight pain in them.

“Ju-just fuck me felix, please, i-i want it so, so ba-bad, wanted it for so long”

You pull his hair slightly so he is now looking at you. He smiles & nods.

“Do you remember the safeword baby?so long hm? tell me how long”He asks, raising himself so he’s in-between your legs again

“icecream. I told you, i can handle it felix, please, baby just please give it to me! wanted it since we moved in togeth-together felix, since high school when we met!” You blush after calling him baby but it doesn’t stop you from trying to inch yourself closer to him to get more friction.

“You being demanding would be a lot more serious to me if you didn’t have drool all over your face right now & your cheeks stained in tears.” You both let out a small laugh as you sit up so your face to face with his abs as you pull down his shorts & his dick springs free, bright red, veins running from the base to the tip, leaking with precum that’s also drenched his shorts inside & also a really decent size. His dick is about 6 inches with a slight curve upwards & quite thick. You go to wrap your hand around it to taste him but felix grabs his dick first & hits & slides it across your face, smirking at the sight. You stick your tongue out but he purposely skips over it before helping you move upwards to the top of the bed next to the pillows.

“as much as i would love for you to suck my dick i know i’ll cum on the spot & id rather get to feel you first babe. What position do you wanna do this in hm? i’ll let you choose as a thank you for letting me suck you dry.”

You smile at him & think for a second before using the rest of your strength to turn yourself over & you put a pillow just below your stomach so your ass is raised enough for him without needing to use any sort of strength. Felix whines lowly at the sight of your perfect ass & grabs it with both hands & jiggles it.

“Your ass is so perfect i just wanna live in it”

You both let out a small laugh & felix leans down & bites it playfully before positioning himself at your aching hole.

“You ready kitten? remember just tell me if it’s too much, i’ll go easy.”

You nod & a second later you feel the delicious stretch his dick is making you feel, the curve of it hitting all the right spots. You both sigh out a breathy sigh as he finally fills you up to the hilt. You both take note how perfect he feels inside, stretching you more than your favourite dildos ever could. He begins moving slowly while holding onto your hips, watching the way your ass jiggles against his pelvis every time he thrusts in & out. He lets go of your hips temporarily to reach over for the nipple clamps he took off your own swollen buds & decides to put them on himself. He lets out a small yelp but tries to disguise it as a moan but you turn around & see the gorgeous sight.

“You’re a mini pain slut too? who would have th-thought?” You try to sound collected but in reality you are trying your hardest to not scream from the pleasure.

“i never said i wasn’t, you just never asked. fuck, baby you feel so good, i’m not gonna last.”

He pulls out quickly & flips you over so you’re on your back before sliding right back into you. You let out pretty whines as he hits your G-spot with the new angle & with the help of his curved dick. Felix’ sweat is collecting at his forehead & nose & it makes the sight above you even more attractive. You reach up & pull the chain in-between his nipple clamps so he is right in front of your face. He groans deeply & you feel his dick twitch inside you as you pull them, he kisses you instantly.

The sound of skin clapping fills the room as he reaches down to start rubbing your clit again as he sucks on your tongue. You run your hands through his hair & down his back, leaving nail marks as you do so. Without warning you feel yourself cumming again for the third time, all over his dick, leaving a white ring along the base. Felix let’s go of your lips as you are midway through your orgasm & let’s his hand travel to your neck lightly & turns your head so he can give you a hickey on your neck.

“Fuck y/n you’re so beautiful, i need- ima cum, where can i cu-“

“anywhere, y-just do it anywher-where, FUCK felix i cant take it, too m-much, too b-big”

you can take it gorgeous i promise, just a little,lit-fuck! while longer!”Felix continues whining & his eyebrows are frowned as he shuts his eyes & faces the ceiling, trying to hold off as much as he can, until he can’t anymore. He grabs his dick quickly & pulls it out before pumping himself a few times before his cum spurts, squirts out of him, right onto your tits & stomach. You both look into eachothers eyes as you feel his cum hit your body & without breaking eye contact, you wipe some of his cum up on your finger before sucking it off j humming.

“Damn, you really kept me from tasting this, meanie”

“don’t worry, next time i’ll cum down your throat until it’s spilling out, how about that?”

You both smile & sigh at eachother as felix flops down next to you & lets you cuddle into his chest as he caresses your hair.

“We obviously have a lot to talk about, i am genuinely sorry y/n” Felix sighs as he shuts his eyes.

“stop apologising, i wouldn’t have just let you turn me into a pile of mush if i didn’t want you to, but what i do want is for you to give me my panties back, you keep taking my favourite ones”

You both giggle & felix kisses your forehead before getting up & walking over to your damp towel & wiping up his cum off your stomach & tits.

“So much for showering, wanna join me?”

He says, giving you the gorgeous beaming smile you love so much.

“Finee i’ll join you, but you’re gonna have to carry me because incase you don’t remember my legs don’t exactly work anymore.”

Felix just rolls his eyes sassily before walking over & picking you up bridal style as he starts walking you both to the bathroom, you nuzzling into his neck & appreciating the smell of his damp skin as you both get into the bathroom & felix shuts the door behind you both.

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taehyuncult · 4 months

Note

BND legal line reaction to you teasing them at public !?? I feel like taesan and leehan won’t show a single expression at first even they know what your intentions are but they will lead you somewhere else and make it clear that you were wrong for assuming that they would let it go easily

ehehe i love this concept so much! i had a lot of fun writing this, which is why it took me a bit longer because i rlly put my pea brain to good use <3 (i am so sorry this ended up being so long my bad-)

warnings: fem!reader dirty talk, being downbad in public, i went overboard in taesan’s (degradation + hair pulling in his).

18+ stuff under the cut. mdni.

sungho: definitely laughs at the audacity of you to tease him. at first, he might not even notice. if you were to abruptly bend over in front of him, he’d kinda just raise his eyebrow but pay it no mind. however, when you get more aggressive with your little game, he quickly starts to get the idea. it would go from bending over in front of him to literally not keeping your hands off of him. it would start innocently, maybe putting your hand on his thigh, but wouldn’t stay that way. at one point, you just fully grab his cock in his pants just to rile him up and he’s so taken aback all he does is look at you for a moment and then laughs. “you can’t control yourself, can you?” and you would pout at him and nod your head, agreeing with him. “i can’t, not when you look so good i mean you’re in a crop top!” he would just laugh at you again, a sweet smile on his face because he truly can’t resist you. he’d take you home and literally fuck you SO good- he’s not one to deny you, he’ll give you what you want.

riwoo: teasing is like torture for him. he gets easily shy, and you absolutely take advantage of that. you would be out on a cute lil date, but all you could focus on is how good he looks. his big bright eyes, his precious smile, his perfect dancer body- wait…yeah you were having a hard time and were determined to make him suffer with you. you whispered in his ear, snaking a hand under his shirt to touch his sensitive skin, and he would be so gone. all it takes is you saying “my riwoo~ you’re so pretty you know that? you look even prettier when you cum so hard for me” and he’s blushing and rushing to take you home so you can do exactly what you talked about. he doesn’t even have the patience to tell you off about how MEAN it is to tease a man, he just wants to go home so he can have you all to himself. lawd- do i love this man

jaehyun: baby boy is so dramatic, i mean clearly. it’s so hard to tease him in public because he’s the least coy guy (i love u myungjae never change). he’s the type to raise his voice just a bit if you were to whisper something in his ear, telling you that you can’t say things like that in public! you would give his neck a gentle kiss before whispering in his ear, saying “wanna go home? i really want you, i’m so wet for you.” and he’s like ??? he gets all blushy telling you “please, you can’t say things like that.” his response would make you smirk, causing you to want to push his buttons a little. “why don’t we go home and you fuck me with that pretty cock of yours?” you would say in his ear again, licking it just to really rile him up. he would flinch at the feeling, and nod his head then letting you take his hand to lead the way home. the fact that you teased him makes him cum even faster than usual because his mind was running a mile a minute thinking about your sweet pussy.

taesan: oh he’s a fun one to tease, especially if you’re a bratty kinda person. he gets so pissed it’s almost comical. however, you would never know because he’s good at keeping it contained. when you weren’t looking he would be glaring at you, giving you the worst side eye, and plotting how he was going to ruin you. he would giving you a warning, whispering in your ear, “no one really likes desperate sluts, do they?” LIES! he loves this side of you. so, when you persist and don’t listen to his warning, that’s when he takes you away. he would take you to a private spot and as soon as he knows the two of you are in a closed off area, he grabs your hair to make sure you’re looking directly at him. he would stare at you for a second, seeing the way you were looking at him with such excited eyes, before saying “you’re such a whore, what am i going to do with you?” you would pout at him. “i need you so bad. feel!” you’d whine out as you guided his hand under your bottoms, so he could feel your soaking cunt. he would glide his fingers through your folds. he would smirk, taking his hand out and of course licking his soaked fingers while looking directly at you. he wouldn’t do anything else, just laugh a bit and walk away.

leehan: this man does not care. you could be slutting yourself out in front of everyone to get his attention and he wouldn’t even be phased. he would just smile and laugh, making your blood absolutely boil as he’s so unbothered. if you bend over, causing you tits to be exposed, he would just say “you’re really desperate huh?” you were giving him a show, and he was enjoying it to his heart’s content seeing you so needy. he was playing a game with you, and he found it so funny seeing how frustrated you were getting when he wouldn’t react. once you finally get home, he changes completely. he’s blunt, saying “alright, you want my cock? you can have it all you want, pretty girl.” and would quite literally jump you. he’s another man that wouldn’t deny you. he’s not going to punish you for simply wanting him, he finds it cute! he would make sure to take such good care of you, fucking you until you physically can’t take it anymore.

#kisa’s hard thoughts #admin.kisa <3 #boynextdoor hard thoughts #boynextdoor hard hours #boynextdoor smut #bnd hard hours #bnd hard thoughts #bnd smut #taesan smut #sungho smut #riwoo smut #jaehyun bnd smut #leehan smut

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strniohoeee · 6 months

Note

chris founding out reader faked an orgasm w/ him and asking her why she didn't tell him

Feigned

Pairing: Chris Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: Y/N has been so stressed and anxious lately that she can’t focus on having an orgasm. When she runs to her best friend for advice there’s some listening ears….👥

Warnings⚠️: Mentions of sex

Song for the imagine: Hold Tight- Justin Bieber

Sex with Chris was always amazing, I mean it was INSANE. He could either tear my shit up, or be so loving and focused on my pleasure

But lately I haven’t been able to orgasm with Chris, and it wasn’t anything pertaining to him….or was it?

I was struggling badly to cum, I was wet and I enjoyed the sex, but I simply could not focus to allow myself to cum.

The past 3 times we’ve had sex I faked my orgasm, and I felt so bad that I couldn’t tell Chris. I truly didn’t want to hurt his feelings, or make him feel incompetent. This was my own problem.

Lately I had been so stressed with work, and creating content, and helping Chris and his brothers. I know that sex is supposed to help with stress, but my mind was always racing a million miles a minute. My thoughts were racing so much I couldn’t even relax to have an orgasm

I was alone at the triplets house. I finally had a day off, and they were filming, so I decided to spend the day truly relaxing

My best friend from back home had FaceTimed me, and I decided to seek advice from her

“Sophia I’m not sure what’s going on, but like I can’t cum” I told her

“Alone or with Chris?” She asked me

“With Chris. Like the sex is so amazing, but I can not cum for the life of me” I told her frowning a little bit

“Are you relaxed and in the zone when y’all fuck?” She asked bluntly

“I thought I was, I mean I’ve been so stressed with everything that I knew sex would help relieve it, but my brain is always on go I can’t even relax to orgasm” I told her

“You should try meditating before you guys have sex. Relax all your muscles and your brain, so you can enjoy it” she told me

“Yeah that’s true! I tried to shower and decompress, and watch some tv before him and I would have sex” I told her

“Yeah that’s not enough. You have to truly unwind, you’re so anxious your brain can’t focus on orgasming because it’s focusing on 30 different things at once” she said

“God you’re right. I feel so bad I’ve been faking it” I said to her

“How many times did you fake?” She asked me

“The last 3 times” I told her

“3 times? I think you should-“ all of a sudden she stopped talking and her eyes grew wide, I looked at my reflection in the camera and saw Chris standing behind me…SHIT

“I’ll call you later” she said before immediately hanging up on me

“Heyyy baby….when did you get in?” I asked closing my laptop screen

“About 2 minutes ago” he responded with no facial expressions

“Oh….” I said just looking at him

“The last 3 times huh? When were you going to tell me” he asked

“Listen it’s not you it’s me, and I didn’t want to hurt you” I told him

“You wouldn’t hurt me….it hurts actually that you kept this from me. I could’ve helped you” he said

“I’m sorry baby, I just have been so stressed and anxious that I couldn’t bring myself to focus on cumming” I told him

“Did you not enjoy the sex?” He asked

“No! I loved the sex it’s amazing. Its literally my brain just focusing on too many things at once” I said to him

“You should’ve told me, I would’ve helped you. We could’ve meditated together or done something else that would’ve relaxed you, and put you in the mood” he said

“You’re right, and I’m sorry. We should try tonight…meditating and then having sex” I said biting my lip

“You know I’m always down for sex pretty lady” he said licking his lips before leaning in to kiss me

The End

Hope yall liked this one🤭, and whoever requested this I also hope you liked it🖤🖤

-J💅🏽

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets imagines #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut

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artemisthewh0re · 7 months

Note

OMFG IK YOU’D EAT THIS UPPPP

a Season3 mean!dbf! Hopper X wealthy!girly!fem blk reader

The reader is an annoying, snarky, smart-ass and loves especially teasing and annoying Jim at any given time.

and then one day he already was not having a great day so he finds the reader walking home after a party she snuck out to and she begs him for a ride and (as always) he does.

“Pleaseee hopper?? I won’t be able to go to the formal if he grounds me!”

He’s like “I’m not covering for ya kid, your a smart-ass, bad-ass brat who always wants her way cuz she has daddy’s money! So shut up and let me drive goddamnit!”

Then shuts reader up by stuffing his dick in her mouth and fcks the absolute SHIT out of her in his truck. Like she can’t remember her name or respond.

AHHHHHHHHHHHH 🤭🤭🤭

“Got something to say now? Huh smart-ass??”

“Yeah that shut you right up. I guess my cock is all it takes to shut that pretty mouth up”

“I don’t kiss sweetie”

“Take it like a champ sweetheart!! You talk so much shit you should.”

“Cmon you got it, alllllll the way in there, mhmm”

“Whats your name? Huh? Can you not remember?”

“Dumb slut can’t even speak cuz of daddy’s dick”

Then after all of this he’d carry you to your window and tuck you in cuz you’re so fcked out 😭😭

Hopper 🔛🔝

You literally read my mind, I've been planning to do a Hopper smut for months! Also your mind is amazing chefs kiss 🤌🏾

Dbf!Jim Hopper x Black Reader

Warnings: Age gap (18 & 40+), breeding kink (kinda), dad's best friend, unprotected piv, blowjob

Katydids fill the dark street with a calming ambience as you walk. The only other sound being the click-clack of your purple heels. You had already walked half a mile and your legs are close to giving out when you hear a car coming up behind you.

"Might as well hitchhike the rest of the way," you whisper under your breath, sticking out your thumb towards the car. As it gets closer you notice that it's not a regular car, but the Chief of Police's Chevy. The car slows in front of you and the passenger window lowers. A scowling Jim Hopper meets your thankful gaze.

"What're you doin' out this late, sweetheart?" Hopper questions, a frown plastered on his face.

"I could ask you the same thing, officer," you tease, trying to avoid the fact that you had committed several acts of underaged drinking and drugs. Hopper's unamused expression lets you know his mood is even worse than usual. "Can I hitch a ride home?"

"Not tonight, I don't have the time for your antics," Hopper responds.

"Pleaseee hopper??I won't be able to go to the winter formal if my dad grounds me!" You whine.

A sigh escapes the Chief's lips before he unlocks the passenger side door. You trot your way over to the car and get in without a second thought. The car starts back up with a hum and heads twenty minutes out of town to your ritzy neighborhood.

The silence filling the car is almost deafening. You try to fight back the urge to speak, fidgeting in your seat, but your mouth won the battle over your brain.

"So what's got your panties in a twist? You're usually less of an asshole," you tease him with a poke on the cheek.

"I'm fucking peachy," Hopper responds, turning to you with a death glare.

"And what's with the get up? You look like you're going on a vacation," you say, finally noticing his Hawaiian shirt and casual jeans.

"Can you just shut it? I'm not in the mood for this tonight!"

You quiet down for a moment, the smile you had falling from your face. "Sorry, can you just not tell my dad you found me tipsy on the side of the road?"

"I'm not covering for you kid, you're a smart-ass, bad-ass brat who always wants her way because she has daddy's money! So shut up and let me drive goddamnit!"

A muttered insult escapes your lips as you turn away from Hopper, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Alright, that's it!" Hopper yells, apparently hearing your insult.

The car suddenly turns off the main road into a wooded area. You whip your head around, trying to figure out where you are. The car stops in a clearing in front of a small stream.

"Hopper?" You question, looking around the wooded area.

"I'm so sick of spoiled little girls in this town thinking they can do whatever they want just because their daddy's rich," Hopper rants, turning off the car.

You can't help but laugh. Your dad's closest friend giving you a lecture about being spoiled wasn't a new thing, but dragging you to the middle of the woods just to yell at you was comical.

"Oh please, you can't fix my attitude. Dad has tried and failed for years."

"He hasn't tried my technique."

"Whatever." You roll your eyes and turn away from Hopper. Suddenly Hopper grabs your neck with a firm grip.

"I think it's high time someone taught you how to shut up," Hopper gruffly whispers only two inches away from your face.

A part of your brain knew that this was fucked up. But an even deeper part of you had fantasized about this late at night. Touching yourself at the thought of Hopper's warm breath grazing your neck, placing rough kisses anywhere he could.

"Okay, Chief," you tease.

Hopper releases your neck and relaxes in his seat. His legs spread apart to reveal his growing bulge. A loud gulp comes from your throat as you stare. You'd never done something like this before and your nerves were betraying you.

"Unzip it," Hopper says. His eyes are looking at the zipper on his washed out jeans.

You move closer to the Chief with caution. Once you're right next to him, he lights a cigarette and places it between his teeth. Hopper rolls the window down before the truck fills with smoke. Your hand moves your lap to his and makes its way up to his crotch.

His erection is firm and much bigger than you expected. Hopper is silent as you unbutton his pants and pull down the zipper. Your hand moves with a mind of its own as it pulls Hopper cock free from his briefs.

Precum leaks from his light pink tip. You can see small veins running from the base to the head. You look over to Hopper for some sort of instruction, but he silently smirks instead. Hopper moves his hand from the back of the seat and grabs the back of your neck, a lot gentler than the first time. Your head moves closer to his cock and you place an awkward kiss on it.

"Why so shy? You were all talk earlier," Hopper teases.

You open your mouth and place it around his head. His precum has a slightly salty taste as it hits your tongue. Before you can think about what to do next, Hopper pushes your head all the way down, so your nose is pressed against his crotch. You gag around his cock before he pulls your head up.

"Got something to say now, smart ass?"

For the first time in your life you're actually quiet, except for your heaving breathing. Your chin has spit dribbling down it and your eyes are watering. You loved it. Hopper pushes your head back down again, but this time you take more control. Your hand wraps around his base and you try to remember the moves Nancy had taught you. You bob your head up and down, careful not to use your teeth. The flat of your tongue swirls up and down his shaft with ease, eliciting a muffled groan from the Chief.

"Yeah that shut you right up. Guess my cock is all it takes to shut that pretty mouth up," Hopper grunts, still firmly holding your head. Your once perfect curls become a sweaty mess sticking to the back of your neck and forehead. A hum of contentment resonates from your chest as you continue sucking. Hopper's breath becomes labored and his legs twitch with every movement of your hands and mouth.

A pool forms in your panties, leaving you aching for his cock. You slip your hand between your thighs and stick a finger inside yourself. It's not enough to satisfy you, so you push in another finger. The sounds of your fingers desperately fucking your wet pussy immediately alert Hopper.

"That's enough sweetheart," Hopper says, lifting your head off of him. A whine comes from your throat, but you obey his command.

A firm hand pushes you from your sitting position to laying across the long seat of the truck. The Chief hovers above your body, his legs on either side of you. His eyes look you up and down with pure lust. You get shy and place your arms over yourself out of embarrassment.

"Are you going to sit there all day?" You ask.

"Clearly I haven't fixed your attitude yet," Hopper responds, hiking up your dress and pulling your soaked underwear to the side. He spits into his hand to lubricate his cock before pushing into you.

You let out a gasp as you feel his large cock stretching your pussy around him. The pain leaves your hair standing up, but subsides. Hopper's pace is cruel in its unrelenting speed. Once the pain has stopped you're just left wide-eyed with your mouth agape, unable to speak a word.

"Take it like a champ sweetheart! You talk so much shit, you should be able to," Hopper whispers into your ear.

The Chief's hands grab your thighs and put one over each shoulder. Your heels hit the top of the truck as he hammers deeper inside you. His washed-out jeans provide a rough cushion for your bare legs as they slap against his.

"C'mon you got it, all the way in there, mhmm."

Your attempt at response is a loud moan as he hits your g-spot. Hopper's grunts get louder and more ragged with every thrust. Your pussy grips around him desperately begging for more. Every word you try to form turns into a pathetic whine vibrating in your chest. Your eyebrows knit together as the pressure of your impending orgasm builds in your core. This only riles Hopper up even more.

"What's your name, huh? Can't remember?" Hopper laughs at your poor attempt at communicating. When you're close to a word, he moves his hips faster to stutter your brain. "Dumb slut can't even speak 'cause of Daddy's dick."

Your cunt aches painfully at your horniness. The Chief was already balls deep inside of you, but somehow you still need more. Hopper's cock is slathered in your slick, making it harder to stay inside of you without slipping out. Frustration builds with every thrust before he jackhammers into you.

The first you word you've speak since the start of this encounter is, "FUCK!"

Your orgasm runs straight into you like a freight train. Your pussy creams on Hopper's length, adding extra lubrication for his cock.

"That's it, atta girl," Hopper moans, looking down at your cunt. He fucks your cum back into you with a brutal pace. Your legs tremble in his grip, but he doesn't stop.

"Oh my God!" You shout, thankful that you were in the middle woods. Your eyes roll back into your head from the overstimulation.

"Almost there sweetheart." Hopper's thrusts stutter and his breath hitches for a second before he lets out a sigh. His spend fills up your sore cunt and he forces it back inside you. You can only let out weak little whimpers as the Chief pulls out of you. "Finally got you quiet for once," Hopper whispers against your ear.

Gentle hands pull your dress back down. The truck starts back up and pulls out of the woods. Your eyes close from exhaustion, but you can feel Hopper gently caressing your ankle laying across lap. The drive is a blur of street lights and turns before the car moves up a familiar back road.

You had used this back road many times to sneak into your bedroom after a night of partying. Hopper lifts you out of the truck and carries you to your window. It opens with ease and he places you on the bed that sits right underneath it. He pulls a pink blanket over you before slipping back into the darkness.

Taglist

@hatterripper31

@aiyaaayei

@vipersecret-blog

@kelly-fushiguro345

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bonchobrick · 8 months

Text

(angst alert !! death + slight blood tw !!)

Tim is stuck in a sticky situation and has to call a certain 'spooky' friend for help.

Jason would probably call him a dumbass for trying to do something so stupid. Well, atleast thats what Tim thinks Jason would do, he isn't for sure though, he isn't certain.

Because Jason's laying on the ground with a flat pulse and he wont be giving him any answers anytime soon.

---

“Don' look so weird replacement, its just anoth’r day in gotham.” His brother slurs with the slight quirk of his lips

"Jason don't fucking do this to me!" Tim hisses tears cursing his eyes

And Jason, oh that bastard—bleeding out on the pavement and in Tim’s arms sends him his classic beaming Robin Smile.

"Love ya' little bro take care of yo'rself, kay?" he says eyes fluttering

"Jay," Tim cries, "You dick."

For all the joy and hope and belief his smile conveyed for the first time in a long time—his red blood muddled what should’ve been such a nice sight. Tim held him on the pavement with someone yelling on the comm mic on the floor that he just can’t bother trying to pay attention to.

The pavement is cold. The air is cold. His brother is cold. It’s all so cold tonight.

All the younger boy does close his eyes and slowly, In. Out. In. Out.

He lets himself breathe for a minute. Lets the horror wash over him. Lets himself absorb what just happened,

Then he gets back to work.

Like a switch his brain is back online running at a hundred miles an hour–what is the best scenario, what should I do when my brother's wrist is limp and his eyes are shut, what do I do if he’s dead again, what can i do, how can I Fix. This.

Thoughts cloud his mind, whirring around his head like layers and layers of messy documents has just been dumped on his desk and he’s shuffling through them panicked trying to find the right file because its somewhere here, there is something and he just needs to sort. it. out. And–

Then it all becomes clear.

His desk is back to clean and stationary. All of the papers are gone back into neat piles in neat manila folders, stored away in tidy filing shelves–

Everything is gone aside from one little yellow sticky note in the center of the desk.

“Well, Jay?” Tim chuckles with a cracked voice, “Second times the charm right?”

In his mind, at the center of it all, on a yellow sticky note lies the words in green ink: ‘Contact The Ghost King.’

Slowly he shifts and with a loud grunt he lifts up Jason, “Up we go!”

“--im? Why do you have Red Hood’s Comm–Tim what happened! Tim!” the comm speaker plays faintly in the background of his head, “Tim! Whatever you’re thinking off doing, don’t!” someone Tim can’t think about hisses

Tim hums absentmindedly towards the mic, almost automatically, “Don’t worry Babs, I’ve got it covered.”

Walking away from the roof he thinks to himself, I wonder where Jason would wanna wake up? Perhaps his apartment? Yea, i think that would go well by him–let’s head to the apartment.

And just like that Tim leaves a crime scene—shuffling away with a dead body over his shoulder and a plan.

“Jay,” Tim murmurs to the corpse on his shoulder, “You’re really gonna hate this, but i’m doing this for you anyways cause I love you. So dont be too hard on me when you wake up okay asshole?”

Tim stumbles off into the stairwell making his descent and sometime as he walks away Barbara faintly catches him on the comm saying

“-Your gonna love Danny and making your lame 'im a dead guy' jokes with him man .”

#(Aka i wanted to write brothers jason and tim fic featuring Danny as the resident unemployed friend)#tim hates jason #he loves jason #siblings r silly like that #tim through sobs: *sniffles* im a bad bitch ive got work to do #what follows is tim pleading with the most heartfelt words for him to bring jason back and danny is like lol okay #was this all made to reference that one line in robin 1993 annual 7 #yes. yes it was.#ill add the comic panel soon bc oo that line mmmm #girl dinner #danny doesn't control life or death. but!#tim: please bring my brother back i know that is such a hard request to ask you but--#danny making grilled cheese: not really hes supposed to be alive anyways dude no biggie #tim whose been begging and sharing his whole life story on the floor for the past 30 minutes: what #this is a fic in which tim spends another absurd amount of time bringing back a 'dead' relative (jason is dead but like tim's like no)#and danny is just with him the whole time hanging out and showing him wild shit as the helps revive him #dc x dp #dp x dc #jason todd #tim drake #danny is a little shit #danny phantom #there are so many tags #i swear i write more story in here than in the actual post...#angst #sorry #its literally kinda cracky though #just a bit more 'character analysis-y' than i usually share w u guys #kinda funny how this is dc x dp but danny is just like only hinted in this scene (he is literally in every other scene)#OH BY THE WAY ITS BEEN AWHILE hi

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doublekanble · 1 month

Text

dead meat

Alastor/reader (gnc)

romantic-platonic

word count: 11.1k

Or, the progress of going down and deeper. (please treat this as if theyre a bunch of drafts coupled together (they are) this read so much funnier if you keep in mind the fact alastor have genuine feelings/genuinely cares for you but he’s just batshit insane) its 13min til 2am if theres an error no theres not tw: gorish talks and imagery littered thru specifically 1, 5 and 7. alastor chased you down in 7.

1. Because you listen.

When you finally came back — frayed at the seams, run-through you with a headache and a rock in hand. You looked down, the warm wetness oozing from him and seeping into your pants quickly turn cold. You couldn’t tell what you’re looking at for a minute, adrenaline still running through you and your head ache just a tad. When you finally see the pink bits and the leaking blood, your breath runs ragged and your thought run miles. You try to remember all the warning your mother gave you about getting involved with a man like Alastor, you don’t know how you’ll tell mom she never gave you any advice or warning about this.

“God… Oh my God what did I—What—“

Not a single book warned you about the way you physically feel ill touching a body growing cold. So with guts churning and the prickling on your skins, you scrambled to throw yourself off and backing away from the body on all four. Desperately, you called out to whatever is there and beg in your head to wake you up from this nightmare of a show. And when you hit something distinctly warm and alive from behind, you call out to it, thinking it’s your mother, coming to save you from this, to tell you that it’s alright and that everyone make mistakes and this is nothing more than a bad dream. You’ll wake up from this soon, in your childhood bed, in your childhood room, in your childhood house and you’ll be anywhere else and not here.

But when the warmth embraces you, and you feel a warmer breath by your right ear, pressing a soft smile and a bliss-filled chuckle into it, it hit you that your mother would’ve hated you if she sees this. If she sees him.

“Oh, mon Chéri, I knew you’d have it in you” You hate the way the voice swallowed and a take a breath, as if mesmerized by the sight, like you but so wholly unlike you, it whispered in your ear, “What a show. What a show.”

Your eyes is focused on him, but not on him, not a person. That couldn’t be a person at all. Saliva tasting bitter, the bile rising in your throat hurts as you desperately tries and tear your eyes away from it. But enraptured by the intricacies inside his head, you only do so much before finding yourself looking closer for something you couldn’t understand.

“Don’t worry,” setting his lips on your temple, he sigh into your skin, one hand held onto yours and gently rubbing the red from your fingers onto his, as if helping you clean up, “It’s your first time, everything will be so much better once you’re used to it.”

Your eyes flickered between the thing and whatever of yourself visible to you. It’s all red, so much red. Its head, his head was caved in, you can see the front of his skull, everything else is everywhere. How could this ever get any better if it’s going to be this red? Was it going to be this red every other time too? You can feel your fingers going numb from the grip you have on that rock, you can feel the dent from where it dug into your palm, you can feel clearly the traces of well-kept nails running down your left arm from where he tries to pull you away. And every bit of it is red. And suddenly your clothes and his grip and the night air and your skin felt just a bit too tight, too suffocating. Your brain pulses and compressed against your skull. It hurts to think, it hurts way much more to speak.

“I—I don’t want to – I can’t-“

“I thought I couldn’t too, until I did it again, and then again. And then I realized that this,” raising the hand he held onto so kindly, almost like guiding your eyes to the sight. While the pain in your stomach is almost unbearable, he couldn’t sound any more ecstatic. “This, is freedom. Our freedom”

You were sure that the freedom that you’ve been yearning for wasn’t supposed to be associate with a corpse. No type of freedom will ever be going to drive someone to cracked open a skull in the middle of the night. There’s nothing but pure malice that will drive someone to bring a rock onto another man’s head and refuses to stop even when his ears bleed and he stop fighting and started begging. Your mother hated Alastor, and she never break his skull open. You hated your mother, and you never break her skull open.

You want to open your mouth and tell him to shut up. You want to say your mother was right, you shouldn’t have gotten involved with him, no matter how inviting his offer is. You shouldn’t have run off night after night chasing the daylight with him. He is a scoundrel, he is disgusting, he’s the worst type of delusional criminal there is, the most pretentious man in all of Louisiana. But you can’t, because you just maimed a good man and refused to hear his pleas. With nothing left to you, you all but break down into his arms.

“There, there~” he coos into your hair as your wailing get swallowed up by the cold night air, “I’m right here, aren’t I?” if only he’s anywhere else but here with you, mouth spewing reassurances one after the other.

(It’s alright, he’ll take care of it today. It’s ok, he’ll teach you about some other day. From now on, you’re going with him, whether liking it or not.)

2. Because you wouldn’t

“Isn’t he one of those highbrows you like to rub shoulders with?” her tone accusing and upset, you almost choked on your tea when she slapped the papers down in front of your food and walk out the living room. Even though you have an idea about what she talk about – the news came out just in time for it to be covered on the radio first, you still pick it up and scanned your eyes along.

“So I’m supposed to remember every face I came by now?” you glowered to yourself, “How do you know who I’m ‘rubbing shoulders’ with anyway?”

Over the sounds of your heart beating wildly in your ears, over the humming in your head, you hear her mumbled something about “that boy” as she starts to vacuumed the carpet. It’s a ridiculous thought, but for a brief second, you were sure she’s going to ask you about your numb fingers.

‘SON OF FAMOUS MUSICIAN, REPORTED MISSING AFTER NIGHT OUT-’

It’s so odd to you, how much he worth, yet how little people care. Name printed in bold font atop news about the fast declined of the economy and crashing stock markets a full week after he disappeared. He never told you his full name, nor does anyone around him ever make mention of it despite their occasional jeering and jokes. You didn’t bother with it at the time, you two weren’t the most talkative person in the room, let alone together.

Then again, it does make sense. He told you before that he’s not proud of what he came from or what he became, under drowsy lights and forced to sit side-by-side like all the other night. You still can’t drink, he still can’t dance while being miserably drunk, and nobody else wants to babysit a miserable drunk. You don’t get why anyone needs you to look after him, despite being so out of his head, he seems perfectly well with handling himself.

Your lift the tea cup to your dry lips and take a sip, the tea tasted bitter.

A voice loudly called for you, irritation written clear in it. You swallowed the lump in your throat and all but jump to her spot in the small hall, unwilling to let the two talks for more than necessary. Your mother stand with a huff to her posture.

“It’s him again.”

You laugh dryly, “It’s always him, mom.” tugging the receiver from her hand, you bring it up to your ears. The moment you do, a chuckle rang out. You shivers.

“There’s the lad of the hour! Why, I almost thought your mother was trying to stringed me along before shutting the line off again!” the mother in question grunt and grumble about how annoyingly persistent he is, you agree. Last time she did so, the phone kept ringing until she relented. “In any case, I hoped you’re all up and ready today!”

“We have nothing planned today.” Your reply was immediate and flat, hoping he would leave you alone, but Alastor only laughs in an almost affectionate tone.

“And I’m here to changed that!” he exclaimed, you run a hand down your face and try to keep your calm.

“Alastor, John’s missing. This is not the time.” you whispered sharply into the receiver, hoping to whatever’s true he’ll shut his trap for once. You’re not interested in getting caught by the neighbours over the phone of all thing.

“John? Now that sounds familiar…” he pauses, you can almost see the way he turn a brow up and pretends like he’s lost in thought, it’s almost endearing, “Why, isn’t that the lad I named on the radio yesterday?! What a horrible case! Some people are saying he finally throw himself onto a train and-“

“Alastor!” at the sound of your own voice scrapping in your ears, you pauses. You relax your grip and lower your voice, doing your best not to pay attention to the figure peeking out from your kitchen, “Listen, I don’t have the time to play around. Get to the point.”

“Clearly, you’ve the time for nothing, you and your mother…” sighing heavily, he dropped the act. “Fine, fine. I’ll stop kidding. We’ll talk once I get there. Be ready in twenty.”

“Wh— Alastor!“ The phone turn dead in your hand and you’re left standing in the hallway.

You stare at the receiver in shock, then, you grip it. Holding back the urge to break it open over the table it sits on, grinding your teeth, you place the receiver back. You clutched at the end of the table and count to ten, jaws aching and head spinning from anger. Even with your head hanging low, you can hear footsteps falling along the hallway. Your mother red house slippers stand in view from the side, you wondered if you can burn it and buy another pair.

“You’re going out with that creepy radio host again.” she’s standing with her hand crossed and an exasperated look, you just know it.

“Mom, please,” heaving a sigh of your own, you don’t want her to rub it in your face, even if she doesn’t know it, “Alastor’s not creepy. He’s a good man, I promise.” you have to believe he’s a good man, after everything. If you don’t, you’ll lose the rest of your mind. You prayed that she leave you alone, but she kept pressing.

“You keep saying that, but I know he’s nothing but trouble. I mean- look at you!? You looked so exhausted every day. Every time you leave with that scurf, you came back looking more lost than before!”

Turning to her, you have a retort at the tip of your tongue, you always do. But the looks on her face was nowhere near what you thought it was, so you stumbled. For a second, your vision blurs and your head spins. When it cleared up, your eyes met.

“That good for nothing man, dragging you out every night! Have he ever asked what you want before?!”

Standing like a cornered rat, you try to find your voice.

“I-“ you swallowed again, “I don’t mind it, mom. I like going out.”

Have your mother always looked this tired and worn beyond her age? It almost as if she’s been holding the world alone. She said your name, and you feel all lost again. Like a small child with bare knees stripped red and wailing for her to come and save you.

“You don’t even like parties.”

You remember how much she always scolded you when you got yourself into troubles, but your mom always patches you up while she does so. In the time frame before your home became more of a house and your front door is a front door without any sort of implications. And then it hit you just how old mom looked now. She used to be so tall compared to you, but now you’re over her slightly hunching figure, a little bit or a lot, it’s just enough to look down on her. Suddenly, the world feels too constricting and your skin feels too tight.

All this time, she wasn’t angry at all, was she? Your mom haven’t been angry for a long time now. But it doesn’t change you, it doesn’t change anything else. You closed your eyes and push a breath through your nose.

“Maybe I’ve changed, mom,” you walk past her into the living and tug on your overcoat with fingers stained red, fighting against the waver in your voice and hoping she won’t hear it, “maybe you should be happy for me.”

Alastor always take less than twenty to show up, but you didn’t know how long he was watching you for before clearing his throat. You didn’t bother to respond, only lifted your head up to make sure it wasn’t some random prude before shifting aside. He have the decency to stay silent and sit down with you on your front porch, offering a sympathetic smile at your sorry state and gently wiped away your tears with his red handkerchief when you refused to move and take it yourself. It wasn’t the first time you sit out and wait for him on the porch instead of listening to her outburst, but it was the first time you ever cry over it.

You wanted so desperately to turn back and tell her that you haven’t change, that you’re still her little kid. The same one that want to sit out the parties and the smokes and the dancing and the jazz just to spent the days working on something with her nearby, in the kitchen working on something or sleeping in the armchair, always in the old set of red house slippers. You want to show her something you make, only for her to not get a single part about it. You want to fall at her feet and begged her to tell you you’re still the same kid. You want her to go back to closing the front door and locking you away from the world again.

But you’re nothing but a rat, fresh off from a murder. You’d soon throw yourself in front a running train than to ever let mom know her child will ever do anything wrong. So you swallowed everything back, stand up, and walked away from her porch with Alastor hot on your trail, smiling all the while.

(you want to tell her you haven’t changed at all, but you know better than anyone else. you thought you know better.)

3. Loosely, you’ll fall.

The show was an utter bore, you’ve concluded. The allure of watching history made quickly died out when it pertains to dancing, something you’ve been watching people do with much more grace. It might’ve been much more interesting too, if the dull drums in your head invites itself out. But even when you step outside into open air outside the theater, it remains.

“Well, that certainly was… something.” Walking after you in a leisured pace with one hand behind his back, another going back and forth on brushing off his coat or adjusting his glasses, to anyone else, he looked completely normal. But you know him long enough. “I could’ve sworn it’s a musical show.”

Usually, it’s fairly hard to catch Alastor in a flustered state, facial or demeanour wise. You supposed years of practice couldn’t really stamp out personal discomfort. You would’ve felt bad, but you don’t have enough strength to bother.

“There is musical, alright,” you grumbled, a hand to your temple as you walk on without waiting for him, “I’d say it’s too much even.”

Obediently, silently, Alastor traces your footstep as you seethe to yourself. You were supposed to be back in bed and sleep away this headache and your free day at this hour. It’s a shame you just can’t help from talking back to your mom and chased yourself out of the house, onto the street, and right into his games.

You wish you could rub those kissing scenes into his face and mocked his offbeat timid nature and tell him to go shove it. For once, the mere thought of intimacy itself reminds you of that night and forced you to think about how Alastor always stands just a bit too close to you, always just behind you. It takes everything in you to not scratch at your wrist and tears your skin open, so you opted for patience and sympathy, no matter how much the image haunted your eyelids said otherwise.

Before you know it, the voices and the hollers and bumping shoulders traded itself for a single bell chiming, then hushed murmurs and echoing clinks of porcelains and glasses filled the space. You invited yourself to a small spot off in the corner with a lone seat and hunched over with your left hand over your face, while Alastor comes up to the counter. When he came back, he pulls another chair from the table right next to yours and all but covered you from everyone else’s sight. You stare at him in between the webs of your fingers while Alastor rest his chin in his right hand and hums all softly at you.

“You should’ve told me it’s still there, dear. I wouldn’t have bother dragging you out.” His free hand brush against yours in a gesture you can blindly guess as benign and kind. Unlike the Alastor from this morning, unlike him in the theater. Unlike Alastor from the broadcast and unlike the man holding onto you that night. You’ve seen this so many times before in so many people, it’s just make-believe for adults and you’ve already seen this in him. You thought you have, anyway, so you take your hand away from him and look at the approaching waitress. It must’ve been a trick of the light, the way his eyes grows just a bit darker. But you still think hard about what you would’ve said back then.

“I need to get out anyway, better here than there right now.” You would’ve been fine with the idea of going back in, but by the time you do, Alastor was standing in front of you, and you would rather let him think whatever he wants than to pissed him off even further somehow.

“Better with me~” When push comes to shove, he is a bitter man with a silver tongue, you’ve seen him pour drinks onto people and getting away scot-free. It’s always funny to everyone else in the group, until they’re at the direct end of his bitter temper.

Alastor have never even so much as raising his voice at you in anger, but you also thought he would never kill anyone, so you refuse to take any chances. As long as you stay cordial and don’t step past your line, Alastor won’t ever have a reason to. So long as you keep to your leash, he’ll be pleasant and let you go home soon. It leave a nasty taste on your tongue, how you know exactly what to do with him.

“Whatever you say, Alastor.” Gently nursing your headache, you sits a bit straighter. You really couldn’t tell what’s worse, the oddly plastic smell of the café, or the light from the bulbs burning your retinas. “You never told me why we’re out here in the first place.”

Clapping his hand together, he grins. “Oh, yes! Terribly sorry my dear, I figured we shouldn’t talk about it over the party line. Who knows what else is lurking, yeah?” you stay seated despite your instinct telling you to run. You know this was coming anyway, “See, we didn’t get to celebrate the other day. You got so sick, after all-”

He kept on talking, seemingly perfectly fine with you tuning him out. Even if he’s not fine with it, he can’t do anything to stop the almost freakish way statics filled your head and washes your entire body in a cold and numbing wave of sweat, electrics ran through your head while you grips your hair. And it’s almost like he knows what’s going through you, because he wiped away a drop of sweat running from your forehead with a knowing smile.

“Be careful now, if you get sick, I’ll have to take care of you.”

“As if you can take a step into my house.” As if she’s ever going to let him take a single step inside after today. But he kept that irritating look on him, if only the thought of tearing it off his face doesn’t hurt you so badly.

“Who said it’ll be at your house~”

His chuckle right after shuts you up. Right, you forgot. Of course you did. He have a lodge somewhere near a bayou. You weren’t sure whether Alastor meant it as a tease or a threat, you don’t really want to think about it. So you forced a laugh when he grows just a tad silent. Tilting his head, he looked at you with something you couldn’t tell, and like aways, he switch topics without a bat of an eye while you sat there with sweats running down your back in the middle of winter.

You reach for your cup and bring it to your lips without bothering to know what’s in it, trying to follow along while Alastor rattled off a to-do list he made without your consent for today’s hangout. A visit to a confectionary shop, a trip to the tailor, quick stop at a small dinner he discovered recently and, if there’s still time, he can take you to your book shop. As your vision blurred for a second, the bitter taste of coffee hit your tongue, and it took everything in you to bite back a swear and to hold your mask of politeness. Accidentally flitting your eyes up, you catch him smiles. But it isn’t the kind of smile friend gives to one another, it isn’t the type where two people love and care for each other. So you keep your gaze low and keep drinking the coffee he ordered, at least they do a decent enough job at taking your mind off of John.

(somehow, it felt so familiar, it wasn’t until the moment you crawl back into your warm bed after a cold dinner that it hit you. it wasn’t against your ear this time, but it was the same smile. you swallowed the acid in your throat and thought about how many people saw it just before they lay six-feet under.)

4. And when you finally fall,

John wasn’t that much of an asshole, but he lives like he’s the most wretched man in all of Louisiana. A shadow of a person, beyond that of a ghost. Alastor told you that the only reason anyone ever stuck around is because John have more money than anyone could ever understand, and as long as you can withstand the awkward silent and the sneers, you can count your worries for the night’s drinks goodbye.

Coming from a long and well-known line of gifted artist, John was set for life, even with his less-than-responsible lifestyle. His great grandfather wrote plays, his grandfather paint, his father plays the piano and John drink himself blind. He stop touching anything that even insinuate the idea of creating art on his twenty birthday. Ever since, he wanders the night, going from place to place to emptied his family’s wealth into pretty floozies and drink away his own shame.

With an eerily out of place grin, just close enough to his normal happy demeanour to count, just a bit too wide to be normal, Alastor show you off to John like an exotic pet while his friends already dash off to dance.

“Oh! And how could I forget, this one might not be able to play it, but they have a fantastic taste in music!” then, he turns to you with a friendly hand on your shoulder and a sympathetic look, “If only you ever have the means to pick it up, you’ll be the talk of the town for sure!””

“Surely.” John reply with an odd laugh and look you up and down, suddenly the idea of sitting back with him and watching the others felt just a bit too much for you. But you only brushed their comment off with a wave of your hand. Acting like you didn’t pick up on how John down his drink with just a bit more fervour and Alastor smiles breached the border of normalcy before he pats your back gently, as if encouraging a shy dog to socialize, before inviting himself out and leaving you alone with a man you’re not sure was all there.

You tell yourself you just won’t go with Alastor to his night parties next time, but you pick up the phone every time. And every night you have to sit right by John’s side in complete silent when everyone spreads across the bar.

At first, it was somewhat scary and unpleasant. Then, it was awkward and uncomfortable. Every time you sit right next to him, he would scoff and chuff at you under his breath. Refusing to ever talk or look at you. Unless it was time to leave, John will never do anything more than call for a drink and then sip on it until he needs another one. Every time Alastor came to check up on you, he would smile at you sweetly and make a jab or two at John. You figured by now it’s a show of sort to him, but sometimes you still make a small effort to shut Alastor up and direct him back to whatever he was doing before. It became your new normal for half a year at least.

And then one night, completely worn out and tired with the day and the loud jazz inside a loud room with lousy lights and lousy companion, you stand up without a word to anyone and went out the back door. Outside in the cold air of October, you huddled by a wall inside the back-alley and pulled your knees to your chest. Staring at your hands, you can only sigh and ruffled your hair, digging the palm of your hand into the base of your skulls and wishing you can break it open.

“If you’re so tired, then why not haul yourself back home?”

Jumping up with a yelp, you clutched at your heart, completely missing the door creaking open the first time. You forgot how John even sounded like for a minute, voice low and gruff, completely contrasting everyone else in the group.

“…” halfway peeking through the door and staring impassively, you wondered why he even bother when he seems so done with you. Words right on the tip of your tongue, you him a passing glance, debating whether this worth an excuse out of your pocket. He cut you off before you even begin to open your mouth.

“What? You’re deaf now?” John shouldered the door and step outside fully, standing in front of you.

“…And if I am?” You frown, this feels too much like being scolded. At least his voice is kinder to your ears . “Better off if you are.” He chuckled, “…So?” You would be upset, but you’re too tired and he’s not leaving you alone, so you shrugs your shoulder apathetically.

“Horrible day at work, fight with my mom, then got dragged out here again.”

“Heh, figured.” You glare up at him, he raises his hands up in defence, whiskey with a single ice cube in its glass clinking as he does so, “You seems miserable whenever the lot isn’t around to see.”

You want to spat at him, what would he know about you? But you know he’s right. It really does feel miserable, going all the way out here just to sit and having nothing to do. So you dropped your head into your palm and groan.

“Ugh-…Is it that obvious?”

He cackle, you take it as a yes and sink your head a bit lower at the sound.

“Why not just—not come?” taking a sip from his whiskey, he sat next to you without invitation, “You can just say no to him, y’know.”

“As if I haven’t tried.” You grumbled, but stop when he raised a brow at you, motion for you to keep on. A bit clueless, you shrugs again, “What? You know him for longer than me. You should know that.”

John looks at you as if you’re stupid, and you’re beginning to think you are. Pointing a finger at you, he asked you about your job. Then with a nod, he stated outright.

“But you don’t do anything for him.”

You sputtered, the irony of a drunkard basically calling you useless and being right about it doesn’t escape you at all.

“What does that have to do with anything? He’s a persistent guy, that’s it.”

“That bastard doesn’t bother hanging around anything that isn’t useful. He’s not that type of guy.”

“Then what type of guy is he?” you ask. He looks at you, licked the top row of his teeth, then heave a heavy sigh.

Dowing the rest of his whiskey, John stand up and offers you a hand. You hesitate before slowly taking hold of it and nearly fell over when he pulled you up. He mumbled a half-hearted sorry with a look.

“Not whatever you’re thinking of him, that’s for sure,” he drag you inside by the shoulder, snickering when you try to keep up and failing miserably before slowing down for you, “Now common, I need another drink.”

It’s all John ever told you about Alastor, it’s all you ever need, but you never listen.

John didn’t change fully after that night, but he still change somewhat. The John that was so drained and empty was still there, but he sits up a bit straighter, as if managed to confirmed whatever else he have in his head. For three months, you two never talked about what happened in the back alley, nor do you talk at all. He still down enough drink to kill an elephant and lost his balance to the point someone needs to take him home. But he nodded his head whenever he’s not tipsy enough that the ceiling spins like a globe and you catches eyes, and sitting beside him felt a bit less draining and off-putting.

You told Alastor about it later, the conversation you two have in the back alley, because of course you do, telling everything to your good friend. Alastor would then look over whenever John’s acting friendlier to you, because of course he does, and joked about it. You saved him five years of his life, he laugh. You laugh along because his tone seems just a bit off. You sometimes think about who Alastor is, whenever you have a moment to sit back and contemplates everything between you two. But not for long, because like clockwork, Alastor would pull you away to do whatever he wants for the day, and like always, you would follow along with little to no complains.

Sometime before John went “missing”, you break the thinning layer of ice between you two and tell him out of the blue that you never actually touch an instrument in your life, but you wished you have the chance to. You thought he would’ve laugh at you, but he sat through your recount of younger you being enthralled by a street musician, seeing it as a form of liberty you can only hope to capture through any other art you made. He asked why, you said there was no space in your life for making music. Not then, not now. He asked if it’s ever a regret, you stay silent.

You asked him to play you something, he huff a laugh behind his glass, but shut up when you didn’t laugh along. A false police alarm got the place empty enough for your group early that night, and the owner was desperate enough for extra cash, enough for him to mousey up and play a song you remember by heart. He played really well, you told him. His playing is the bare minimum, it lacks the souls his father have, he sneers at you. He doesn’t need to have a soul in it, just get used to being mediocre while having fun instead, you reply, leaning against the piano and staring at the group chatting away from you two. He didn’t bother with a counter, but he kept playing, this time it’s a melody you’ve never heard before. You saw Alastor turning his head to you two, but you pay him no mind and turn back to John. He looked so calm playing something like this.

John trips over his fingers and curses a lot, you tell him to keep playing. Until the song’s finished and you left standing in silence for just a bit, waiting for the other to say something. Turning the word over in your mouth, you’re a bit speechless, like you’re face-to-face with a kindred soul. But there’s no real comfort in telling a drowning man he can breathe, so you say his melody felt like home.

Worn beyond his age and exhausted in a way that’s so out of place for someone who have the world in his hand, his smile was genuine, facing towards you, like an old friend and a warm meal. The bar dives and the social circles Alastor loved pulling you along have always made you feel so out of place. Their grin’s too perfect and their voices too pleasant, all with an oddly rotten attitude. It’s like watching a picture show, it’s not how people genuinely act, it’s the semblance of one.

Maybe that’s why you and John never got along too well, he was too busy hiding his face behind glasses of gin and whiskeys, you’re too busy hiding in Alastor shadows. But you both never play along, and you both never faced each other fully before that night. You hope John never have that realization, the fact you’ve never faced him at all.

Then before you knew it, his face to the ground, all red, turned from you. That’s all you knew about John Holloway, that’s all he ever get to tells you.

(deep inside, you want to say that it wasn’t your fault. but the difference between getting swept along with life and standing in a back alley with blood on your hands is that somewhere in your empty head, you did register his scream. there’s a reason you can’t see his face and there’s a reason the rock was in your red hand, sitting in your red palm.)

5. so far down, you won’t know the way home

The forest floor was red, by the time you realized it.

It wasn’t by your hand, but it’s enough for you to step back and breathe. It always so odd to you, just how easy it really is to see in the dark, even when the moon hides away behind strips of clouds. In the dark, at the dead of night, your eyes should’ve been blind to the red that’s bleeding all over, but it never does. It took you a second to remember what you’re supposed to be looking at, and you turn the light towards the main figure, standing so proudly in the middle of this. In through nose, out the mouth. Don’t focus on the thing below, look at him and smile. He smiles back, genuine joy stiches itself on every corner of his face. If only this flashlight is weaker.

“Sorry darlin’. This one have more fight in him than I thought he would,” he strides towards you, the familiar metallic stench overwhelms your senses when his red hand came up to tuck a strand of loose hair behind your ear, “Good thing we got it done before he find his way out, huh?”

Good thing he got it done at all, you thought. You can only bother to hide your exhaustion with a mute nod and a grim grin. Knowing exactly how this will plays out again, you remind yourself to be ready. Alastor laughs and pat your cheek affectionately before pulling you by your hand towards the corpse quickly growing cold amongst the grass. As he does, you try to ignore the echoing in your eardrums.

It was gut wrenching at first. The panting, the gasping, frantic steps that echoes through the empty woods, devoid of bird calls, devoid of life. Just a hound, chasing its prey, and a vulture perched on a tree waiting, watching. The choked exhale when they fall, eventually tired out and tripped over themselves or getting a bullet to the thigh. The way they all looked so confused, then they bargain, then they get mad and calls him every name under the sun before shutting up and look at him in the eye. You weren’t sure just how he looked to them, but perversely, you’re glad you never get to see it.

They scream and yell and beg for someone to please come and save them until they can’t anymore, but it felt like they never stop at all.

“Come here.”

He sits you down by the body, open and ready, still holding onto your wrist while you fight every bone in your body to keep your hand still and keep your foot nailed down. His face, flushed with excitement and sweat running down his forehead as he rattled on about how soon, you’ll have enough guts to do this with him instead of only ever following after and picking up the scraps.

“Remember that feeling? Remember the rush?” lifting your clenching fist up to his lips, he smiles and chases your gaze, you stare back, “Etch it into your brain, don’t ever forget it.”

With that, he plunges your fist into the open cavern of flesh and red and it feels so incredibly blasphemous and wrong. While Alastor knitted his fingers atop yours and guide your hand through the process, you feel your senses grows fuzzy around the edge. Half of you wish that headache didn’t die after the 3rd time, at least then you have something else to focus on other than the sopping wet red mush slipping in and out between your frozen fingers. The idea that someone’s inside would immediately cool off after their death is a farce to you, their warmth still so tangible and so fragile it takes everything in you to stop the burning acid from bursting in your throat. He told you on your fifth time that if you vomit on the body, he’ll have you cleaning it with him, sounding just a tad bit considerate, as if the idea of forcing you into doing something you dislike hurts him.

It's almost too much to think about, how you’re becoming something so different, something that’s just enough to his liking, to the point where all you have left are instincts and the alarms in your head. It felt like years ago when your weekdays are filled with nothing but sitting inside your cozy home and looking out the window, hoping one day you’ll be able to experience that high life and being cared for by someone who love you with everything they have, even if it’s the worst experience of your life. It’s almost like decades ago when your thoughtcrimes are no more than passerby on a long day and your smile is a sham but it’s ok because everyone bought into it and you do too. Now you spent your days looking behind your shoulders for excuses while pinprick runs up your neck, waiting for the day you’ll be buried with the people he hate.

You hope when, not if, you do have to, you’ll manage to come up with an excuse to mom for the body in that alley way. You clenched your fist, only the red squelching and spongy inside of a man you barely know respond.

(the hound stare up at the vulture and leave with a red maw, it watches the vulture from the shadow of the trees. the vulture learned to ignore the hound and feast away at leftovers.)

6. I hope you’ll call out for my name.

Unconsciously, you tap your index finger to a rhythm a man showed you some years ago. One you called beautiful, and one that made him smile. Like always, your weary and sunken eye catches red painting your left hand, but you only sigh and return to penning out your letter. A ringing echoes throughout your bleak and empty house, but no voice call out for you. There’s no point in picking up, you simply let the call die on its own. If it’s him, he’ll crawl his way to the front door with or without that call either way.

When the noise abruptly ended and didn’t pick up again, you put down your pen and hold the letter in hands that never lost its stain. Staring down at the words you’ve painstakingly poured over since her funeral, you crumbled the page and held your head. Over and over again, you write and write, hoping that some way, somehow, something can change.

But like always, nothing is enough, so you throw the paper into the small bin next to your seat, holding back the urge to throw everything else on the table with it too; your mom raise a murderer, not an ill-manner rodent. There’s no longer a point in lamenting things that can never be change in your lifetime. You can do this tomorrow, or the next day, or the day next to that, you’re considering how to go out still. As long as he’s not here, that is. You check the clock, eleven and a half, you have around fifteen minutes before he’s here.

Alastor was always suffocating, you thought, dragging yourself to a wardrobe that haven’t felt familiar for more than half a year now. Nosy and meddlesome, it’s something you picked up on even when you were a doe-eye little rat running across the night without realizing you were walking with a hunting hound, but you always thought it was simply how Alastor cares about people. Your mom was right, you were so naïve about him, thinking he can care for anyone else aside from his mother and himself.

He was always suffocating, but ever since the funeral, he all but latch onto you.

The pure black outfit he gave you was something you would wear to mom’s funeral. But coming from him, it makes you feel like a stranger was staring back from the mirror’s view, out of your own skin. So you boxed it and hid it under the sofa after the whole thing.

And of course, Alastor knows this. So whenever he browse through your wardrobe on his own accord, he would always make sure to make a comment about how these plain and boring clothes never look right on you with a good-nature smile. You no longer have the mind to bother with a reply, so you let him do whatever he wants. As long as he get his digs in, you get your peace of mind. The things in here means the world to you, but what use is there to defend something you’ll soon have no use for.

Clicking your tongue, you pulled out something that looks decent for the street and locked the door to your room. You fixed your clothes until it fits right on you and sat on your bed, wondering if you should just stay inside and make him take some couple extra steps. But decidedly, being in your own room with him will always be so much more unnerving of an experience rather than just letting him shuffling through your stuff on his own. So, the door to your room open with a click, and you step out into long familiar but distant hallways. You wish you can unlearn the concept of loving something that isn’t tangible anymore. It’ll make the hallways a bit brighter.

Like usual, you peek into the empty, almost sterile kitchen and walk up to her armchair. After confirming that you’re alone today also, you found yourself back on the sofa with nothing else to do, simply waiting for Alastor. Checking the time again, it’s exactly mid-day now, so his mother must’ve needed help with something, you’ll have to wait for a bit. Gulping down the uncomfortable heavy weight that settled over your heart since a year and a half ago, refusing to ever die, you lie down and close your eyes.

A year, a half, two week and three days, it’s really a wonder how you work. Maybe that’s what Alastor sees in you, a walking list of contradictions, or maybe this is how everyone works, and you were just cruelly kept out of the loop. Even though you never bother to consider her in your own life, ever since a year and a half ago, you wake up staring at the ceiling with bleary eyes wondering what’s she’s doing every day and why you can’t hear her. Then, remembering that she won’t be doing anything from now on, you get up and make yourself breakfast. Sometimes you would still hear someone calling for you, along with the constant ringing from the phone, but then one day, you forgot how she sounded like, so you starts to ignore the calls.

The day you realized you can no longer hear her voice, calling out to you from the door to your house, you’d tried to trace her footstep by opening her cookbook and making the dish she love. One moment, you were staring down into the pages, the next, you’re seated at the counter, surrounded by Alastor’s companions. You’d call for a whiskey. Everyone find it absolutely hilarious and jokes about your new life while you held the glass in your hand and stare down into the amber-colour liquid. Just as Alastor laugh and reach out for your hand to take it away, talking about how you simply won’t be able to handle the aftermath, you knock your head back and the glass ran clear in one gulp. His friends all cheered for you and shoving another glass into your hand, assuring you’ll get used to this soon, but you don’t know how much you can trust them.

Quite frankly, the whiskey was beyond repulsive. As if you just swallowed flaming charcoal, your throat burns so badly, it’s stopping you from forming a single coherent sentence. You can’t stop yourself from tearing up over it, either, vision blurred and unsteady while a beginning of a headache started creeping up on you, so you down whatever’s in your hand again in the hope of becoming familiar with it fast enough to never have to think twice about it. Before a pretty dame in the group can pass you a third drink, you were hauled up by the shoulder and drag out the door, Alastor hissing a goodbye to the group through his teeth.

Storming off ahead and ranting about how utterly irresponsible you are while you stumbled behind him like a fawn, Alastor would slow down and stare when he can’t hear your soft footstep anymore. You remember walking by a closed tailor shop and flopping yourself down, back against the glass window and weeping without a word. He walked back and sit next to you after a while. You know he’s waiting for you to say something on your own, but you only shrink into yourself. You don’t know what was worse in that moment, the burning in your throat, the head splitting ache slowly brewing or the fact you never know your mother favorite food. How are you supposed to grief someone you don’t know anymore?

In the midst of it all is Alastor, who seemingly lost all of his previous anger. You’ve seen a lot of him over the years, you know he sees all of you. But this is the first time you break down without a word or a reason and you wondered if he feels just as lost and confused as you are. It as if he doesn’t know what to do with you once you actually breaks in a way that doesn’t serve his vision of you, in a way he never have to fix before.

“…Tough day?” with an oddly shy tone, he nudge you from the side, “Didn’t know you’re this much of a sad drunk, honey. Guess I was right to keep you off the bottle after all.” He chuckled, then trail off when you stay silent and stare off into nothing.

It must’ve been no more than ten minutes, but it felt like years before you gave up and open your mouth, voice breaking and quiet. “He made it look so easy.”

“He? Michael?”

He perks up the moment you speak, mouthing off the names of all his associates in hope of finding the one that raises your ire. You would’ve found him endearing if things were different, but you cut him off.

“John,” Then as if it’s not enough, as if Alastor never remembers anyone else, you try to keep your voice even while rubbing your eyes “John Holloway. He made drinking look so easy.” Even without looking, you can see his lips pulled into a taut line.

“Ah, right, John Holloway,” rolling his eyes and shuffling that much closer to you and pulling out his handkerchief, he sneers, holding your wrist still while wiping your face, “No doubt he does. If you didn’t take him out, that chump would’ve drink himself to Hell on his own.”

“At least then he gets to pick his own way out…” You huff.

“It’s been years, honey!” done with cleaning you up, he stuff the handkerchief in his left pocket, “I can’t believe you’re still hung up on him!”

With every word out of his mouth, Alastor’s fake and chipper accent gets just a bit firmer, as if finally knowing what to do. Sitting up straight and pulling his glasses off, he wiped it on his vest and ask dismissively.

“When did he die again? Was it 1928?”

“1929,” you breathe and lean your head against the glass, “Remember that musical you called innovative and new?”

“If only I can forget.” He blanch at the thought of it, you smile wistfully.

“The music was nice, it’ll be nice to watch it again.” From the corner of your eyes, you catches his. You hated how he look so content with this.

“That makes one of us…”

After that, a blanket of silence fell onto you two. With a headache in full swing, you recalled asking whether he ever remembers how they look. Chuckling, he only leans close until your nose almost touch and say that he does. You ask if he’ll ever remember you, he froze and stare into your eyes with an almost incomprehensible look. Standing up, he brushes himself from dust and give you a hand, you take it.

Before you two departed in front of a door that no longer lead to a home, he tells you in an almost too quiet voice that he hope he never have to remember you. You hate his everything in that moment. From how his stands was just a tad bit different from his usual tall and confident poised self to the way he looks so abnormal with the corner of his lips dipped down. You hate how you’ve grown fond of his smile, so you turn and closed the door with a good night.

In the morning, sounding like you just dragged yourself from hell back up, you asked him for a clipped picture from the old newspaper and leave it under your pillow. And ever since, you’ve been rewriting the same letter. To everyone that you ever have a hand on, and to John and your mom. But specifically to John and mom.

John was a good man. It’s a shame he drank too much and care too much in one night. It’s a bigger shame that you can’t keep your thoughtcrime as exactly that, a thoughtcrime. He was right, too. You never knew the man you called Alastor, you don’t think you’ll ever do and you’re happy for it. You only ever find the cowardice to take another man’s life with his help, and you’ll only ever find yourself in more trap than being free from it.

You still bought yarns and cookbooks that you think your mother would’ve love. You come back with enough groceries for two people and the kitchen table are always set for two. You check every day in the kitchen for her still. You still crept up behind the armchair just in case she’s sleeping. Her red slippers still sat patiently just in front of her door. You know she never will be there, but it’s a nice thought. And since mom won’t ever going to be there again, you’ll take a nap. Alastor can have fun dealing with half-asleep you once he’s here.

(you’re woken up by the sounds from your kitchen, the smell familiar. as if finally escaping a bad nightmare, you sprang up on your feet and peek in like a child. Alastor stood at the stove, smiling at you. for the first time in years, his smile didn’t reach his eyes.)

7. we’re going to hell together, after all.

Left, right, right, left.

The silent always puts you on edge, as if there’s something out here, biding for it’s time. If only it’s a beast you can take down with a shotgun. You try to recall the forest trail that you know is somewhere out here as shadows of trees covered you from the moon. But you know Alastor, and you know for a fact that if he wanted to, he could herd you out of New Orleans with just a couple of words and a smile. So you uselessly try to focus past the thundering in your ears, you can’t hear a trace of him anymore. So on the count of three…

Throwing yourself to the right, you almost slammed into a tree as a bullet lodge into the trunk of another just right ahead. A soft chuckle rang out from behind, you kept running. Left hand clutching your right wrist, a sob bubbling up from your aching throat, it’s between running like this and letting the hand ram itself into whatever’s there in the forest. Even if you’re blessed with the chance to get out of this alive, you’ll never have use for your right hand ever again. Bones doesn’t heal right when they sit past five days, but you’re not sure you can even hold a pen with a mangled thumb and a pinkie barely hanging on. You lost a bit of your will at that, but the silence of the woods draws you from your thought. You want to die by your own hands.

Right, left, right.

But you know you won’t be able to. The moment you let him take you here, you already lost. Alastor knows the woods better than you. He knows hunting better than you. And you’re sure he knows he can outrun you at any time. You refuse to dwell on the meaning of it and push your left hand against a tree.

Another shot rang out, this time hurling right by your head and nicked the tip of your right ear and went into the night. You don’t know where it goes, but you staggered just a bit and nearly launch yourself forward when a small bush snatches the end of your clothes.

“Sorry honey!” his voice gets further and further away while he stand still and yell out to you with a casual tone, as casual as he can keep it, “Frayed nerves and all~” he laughs, the rest of his words intelligible, and then suddenly, the forest went silent again. You can’t afford to stop and think anything through, so you push on ahead.

When you’re stuck with only the breaking and crushing of leaves under foot and your own winded breaths filling your ears, you cursed. Your throat starch, your lungs burns. With every step you take, your visions blackened around the edge and breathing alone hurts so horribly. It’s a blessing you even lasted for this long, you never have to chase anyone like he did. You wishes you burn that letter instead of dropping it in the bin, you wish you burn that house down instead of living with a ghost you can’t see. You wish you burn him. You know something was off with him that day, Alastor couldn’t shut up to save his life ever since he gets the key to the house. But he didn’t so much as uttered a word to you while staring down at the cutting board, but you didn’t care enough to ask him. Biting back a curse when a stinging pain shot up from your ankle, you feel your head spin as a short and pained chuckle escape your dry lips, he was thinking about how he wants you dead, surely.

Left, left? Right. L-

You can’t help but cry out the moment the bullet sink into your right upper thigh and sent you down. You crashed sideway onto the forest floor and black out for just half a second when a rock dig into your left temple. Clutching at your thigh with a broken hand, your laugh sounds unfamiliar to your own ears, almost choking as it drags nails and spikes through your throat, like that of an animal, like you’re an animal. The loss of oxygen is getting to you, the irony doesn’t escape you.

While your body winds down and the pain and exhaustion settles in, you go into the most horrible aftermath you’ve ever have to endure. Your head pulsating with every beat of your heart and your limbs grew heavy and cold. Vividly, you pick up on leaves breaking and sticks crushed under heavy footstep and you abandoned all sort of dignity to scrambled and try to drag yourself away from him, fingernails dug into dirt and grass to pull your lead like body away. But another clink, another shot hit your lower torso from behind as your choke scream got swallowed up by the earth, left to clutch at your wounds with face buried into the earth and tears streaming from your eyes.

“Oh honey, why so sad?” a heel sit on your bullet wound, dancing in circle before he slowly press his whole weight onto it. Your suffocating wail isn’t enough to amused him, but he still laugh with such gentleness in his tone. “I thought this is what you want? Weren’t you writing to dear old John about leaving? Well, here it is!”

The relief he granted you last for all but half a second before he bring his foot down. Stinging, numbing pain spread through your entire body and you’re left gasping for air while he held your shoulder and set you to face him. Hunching over your shivering body with a hand on your face, he smiles. Or at least you think he is, there’s not a point trying to make out a single thing over the agonizing pain that’s making a home in your body. You wanted so badly to just black out and die right here, you pretty sure you did black out at some point, but Alastor slap your cheek lightly and calls your name with almost a whine to his tone. The warmth from his hand stand out amongst the incomprehensible burning of your flesh and the blood rushing through your head, why are you here again?

“Oh come on, don’t leave me hanging like this. You know I hate it when you ignore me.”

You’re not, you want to scream. If there’s anything you can ever say for him to get off of you and leave you alone, you would. You don’t know if it’s the blood lost or the pain getting to you, but your already waning visions of him blurs beyond recognition while he coos at you.

“I guess it really do hurts that badly?” he laughs, “One question solves then!”

At the mention of it, your blood ran cold and the forest felt just a bit more freezing than it already was. Right, he did say something about John, didn’t he? Almost like it was yesterday, when you’re sitting alone in your room at eleven in the morning. Although barely able to remember the exact wording of every letter, you know by heart the concepts and questions in all the letters you’ve written and rephrased a thousand times and over. But the question wasn’t in that one, it was at least several drafts before it, dropped because it was too presumptuous to ask your first and closest victim such a horribly him question. All of it, sitting neatly in the bin right by your writing desk. All of it, he could’ve read in the hours it took you to wake up.

You want to stick to what’s left of you and die raising your head just a bit higher than when you live by not letting him hear a word out of you, either the fact your throat still hurts so badly just swallowing or the fact you know it’s all but useless talking now that’s keeping you. But from the corner of your eye, you saw his right, red hand gripping tightly onto something that you can’t properly make out, and then you remember the reason you never anticipated any of this occurring within your lifetime.

“Th-the letters…” you groaned, “it’s not-you-“

Right, the reason you were caught off guard by him breaking your fingers while pinning you to his car, the reason you couldn’t even begin to make head from tail when he pressed you for the name of whoever it was that makes you do this. The letters that is, for all its intended purposes, your suicide note.

“Yes, yes,” with a draws to his voice, as if he’s tired of this, “Your lovely letters, to dear old ma and John. We both know I read all about them.”

“No-“ you cough, it’s hurts just to breathe, “I wasn’t going to- tell them-“

“Oh, that. I know.”

For just a moment, you’re void of anything. All the pain and the blistering heat and the cold night air leave your body for just a second and left you with nothing at his words. You’re aware of his every movement, even through the darkness of the night. Suddenly, everything is too much, too loud.

“I thought you’re smarter than this, love.” you can’t see him properly at all, but you can’t see him smiling and it scares you, “It never was just about the letters.”

“Then what-“

Shushing you, he leans down until your forehead nearly touched, you try to focus and find his eyes at this awkward angle but it only worsen the unbearable pounding in your head.

“This, is what you want,” he pauses, you can see the outline of his jaw shifting, like rolling words on his tongue. You want to call him a madman, but you don’t even know if this is him anymore. This isn’t the Alastor you know for years. He would’ve never talk to you without that stupid accent that’s everywhere on the radio. The Alastor you know doesn’t need to considers his words talking to anyone, always with an excuse on his sleeve. And that Alastor would never gotten so close, wouldn’t have sounded so personal. “You said you want to leave. To get to that ‘freedom’, right?”

He sounded so hurt, as if it’s him that’s being crushed under weight with bullets in him and two broken fingers, as if it’s not you writhing on the forest floor, as if he’s the one dying tonight.

“You can’t bear to live anymore, right? You can’t do this with me anymore, can you?” you’re painstakingly reminded of the fact he still have his right hand on you, casually moving it down to your neck while he raises his left. You aren’t sure why, but you still try to claw at the hand clasping gently around you. You think this happened before, but you weren’t sure where the idea came from, the loss of oxygen getting to you quicker than you thought it would. Somewhere in the back of your mind, your fingers, two broken and eight dirtied with dirt and your own blood, it lost the red that have been clinging onto you like a disease.

“Al-“ in that moment, your vision suddenly cleared, like a last-ditch attempt at life. The grip he have around you is like that of a snake, too. Coiling gently and kindly, with a thumb digging into your skin while the inners of your ears felt like bursting open.

“It’s alright, mon Chéri, I’ll help you. I always have, haven’t I?” he always have been helping you, but that was Alastor, your friend and the demon on your shoulder. Not the man that’s staring down at you with such a look and speaking to you with such tenderness and love you can’t begin to dissect.

Desperately, you stare up at the image of an unfamiliar man with voices you’ve never heard before. He smiles a smile so painful, as if losing his mind too, but you can’t tell who he is anymore. Your mom was right, John was right, you’re right, but none of it matters when you’re running out of breath and the rock in his left hand fits so well into his palm.

“I’ll come see you when I’m down there, wait for me.”

Your vision bloomed and blurred away. You stay awake for long enough to hear the first crack of skull, reverberating through your eardrums. You’d stay awake for the second hit, and the third. And you stay awake for just long enough to grow envy of John for never having to faced you that night.

(the hound leaps, sharp fangs breaking tough skin and tearing veins, the vulture, without a mind to think of god, only knows how to cries out.)

#alastor #x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel oneshots

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darkchocoboo · 1 year

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don’t make me lose you. i already found you so late | joel miller

TRIGGER WARNING! SH

Su**ide attempt! Detailed description of how they feel. They’re really in a bad mind-set. If this triggers you please please don’t read. (And remember you worth more than everything on this universe. Please don’t be ashamed and seek for help.)

cw: darkness, anger, MAJOR mental breakdown, curse words, guns

summary: Everything in this world feels fucked up and at some point you can’t take it. But Joel wants you to know that he’ll be there for you everytime you need him. He’s your savior.

A/N: I know everything seems so dark but it will get better I promise.

"Look at me Ellie. I need you to pull yourself together, okay? Can you do that for me baby? C'mon Els. C'mon babygirl. We don't have time for that. We can't waste time. Joel is waiting for us. C'mon. Get up. I need you. I need you strong baby. You're stronger than me. If you break down I break down. We can't afford that. Please, please, please, get up. What we saw in there is not easy on anyone. I know, believe me. If we had time, I would cry my eyes out here. But I can't, fuck. Fuck this. Fuck me. Remember what Joel told you, Els? Repeat it. C'mon. Say it out. C'mon." You kicked the rocks under your boots. Hands caressed your hair as you try to hold back your tears.

"Fuck, Ellie. Say it!" You yelled at the girl sitting on a concrete.

"He, he told me to keep you safe." She wiped her tears with back of her hand. Got up.

You hugged her with pain in your heart. Shook of the guilt and anger that you felt for yourself. You had to be strong for Ellie. You had to be strong for yourself. You had to be strong for Joel. There was no place for weakness.

"Let's go Els. He's waiting for us." You hold her hand as you walked on the concrete road. Sun was setting on the empty road. Gun's strap on your shoulder was cutting into your skin with its weight. Twisted ankle's pain was spreading over your body with every step you took. Blood on your your skin dried with the cold breeze. Ellie was quieter than she ever was. You just wanted to open her brain and erase everything she saw because of you.

Joel asked only one thing from you since the beginning. Only one thing. To take Ellie as he handles other important stuff. And meet him where you decided before. And you fucked it up. You screwed up so bad that now Ellie was hurt. You hurt Ellie. You wanted to grab the gun that was hanging from your thigh, put the tip in your mouth and pull the trigger. Knowing that you failed, weight was crushing you.

When sun was down and weather was cold, your destination was a mile away but your legs was about to give up. The smoke from Joel's fire was in sight in clear air. When your knees gave up and your swollen ankle was in unbareble pain you dropped your body under the nearest tree. You pulled your knees to youe chest, your head falling on them.

"Ellie, you go. I will be there in a minute, okay? Tell Joel I'll be alright. Stay with him. Never leave his side. Run. Go. Signal me when you're with him." Ellie wanted to resist but was too tired to do so.

When she turned back and walked away from you the tears you were holding back the whole time started running down on your cheeks. Leaving a trail of dirt and blood. Fingers brushed over the gun on your leg. Your mind getting dizzy with the idea. Idea of being that. Leaving everything behind. The Clickers, the chaos, the pain, Ellie, Joel.

Joel.

The man who saved you. The man who gave you everything in the middle of nothing. The man of your dreams. The man that you love. You were sure that he loved you as a friend, or a sister, a daugter. But you couldn't help yourself falling for him. You couldn't stop your feelings for him. That was another topic that you failed him. He protected you from the world like he protected Ellie, but you loved him in a different way. You desired him, even. The way he talks, walks, stands, sleeps, eats. That man triggered something inside you.

It was all over now. Your life was gonna be over in seconds. You pulled gun from its case. Cocked it. Put the muzzle on your temple. Cold from it soothed the thin skin. Your finger walked to the trigger. A small shaky breath left your lips. Eyelids closed with the relaxation. Knowing that everything was gonna be over.

"Hey! Hey! Put the gun down. What the hell are you doin'?" Joel's paniced voice filled your ears as he panted.

"Put it down. PUT IT DOWN Y/N!" You opened your eyes when he yelled at you. Never stopping tears was now faster. Your eyes started to burn.

"I fucked up, Joel. It's over. I failed Ellie, I failed you. I fucked everything up."

"No, babygirl. No, she's safe. You're safe. We can fix everything else. Give me the gun." He took a step towards you. Your hand raised to stop him from getting closer. You didn't want your blood over his shirt. You wanted him to stay out of this.

"You'll be better of without me, Joel. I'm just a failure. Just let me do it."

"Ellie needs you Y/N. Fuck. I need you. Can't do it without you. Please. Let me help you. Baby, please." His voice was now weak, he looked smaller to you. He mumbled things under his breath but your mind was to busy to understand. Your head started to spin, your stomach was burning up with the intense feeling. You tried to stop yourself from puking but it was to late. Gun dropped from your hand as you leaned over with the gagging reflex. He grabbed the gun as you emptied your stomach. Unloading it with shaky hands.

"You're okay baby. I got you. I got you." He pulled you to your legs, wrapped his arms around your waist.

"You gonna be fine. I got you." He kissed the temple that was touching with the gun's muzzle. "We got this." His hands caressing your back with soothing motions.

"Joel, I," Your tears left wet patches on his dark colored flannel.

"I don't know what to do. I, I can't keep going." He squeezed you more with each of your words.

"Y/N look at me. Ellie wouldn't be here without you. I wouldn't be here without you. You took a fucking bullet for that kid, remember?"

His hardened fingertips found the scar tissue on your shoulder. A spider web shaped, darkened skin. Still hurting everytime you think about it.

"I need you. I need you to be right by my side when I need you the most. Like you always did."

You dropped on your knees, taking him with you. Sharp rocks cut your skin and dig into your knees that your ripped jeans left unprotected. Pain made you sob. Harder than before.

You looked through his dark orbs with dove eyes.

"Is Ellie gonna be okay, Joel?" He pressed his lips to your forehead.

"She fell asleep. You wanna talk about what happened or do you wanna talk when you're better?"

You closed your eyes in pain.

"She saw it. Went into that room before I could stop her. I was slow, Joel. I couldn't protect her. I had one job. I failed. She may be alive but I know it will hunt her dreams for the rest of her life. Joel. I'm useless."

"She's stronger than you think. It's gonna be alright. But, baby I know this is not the only reason. What got you so vulnerable?"

Your nails dig into his biceps. Pain in your heart never going away.

"I don't know Joel. Nothing. Everything. I feel tired. I feel small. I feel useless. I feel lost. I feel alone. Like you have Tommy. Ellie has you. Who do I have? All alone in this fucking fucked up world trying to survive. Fighting for my life everyday. And it all ends up with nothing in my hands. Just more pain in lonely cold nights."

Joel's big hands grabbed your chin to make you look at him. You could see the pain in his eyes under the dim moon light.

"You have me, baby."

His eyes dropped to your scarred lips in the silence of the night. Thumb brushed against bottom lip, looking through every expression on your face for courage to do it.

"Don't make me lose you. I found you so late already."

He pressed his lips to yours. Washing over every feeling away from you for a moment.

#Joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal fanfiction #tlou #tlou joel #pedro pascal smut #the last of us #tlou hbo #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller/ yn #joel miller/ you #joel miller x you #joel x you

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vampireapple · 2 years

Text

Human Navigators

The human navigation crew shares one (1) brain cell, and its usually left in the locker.

. . . .

“You are so wrong, James.”

“Shut up, Steve, this is absolutely the right way!”

“Are you flipping blind? This away is clearly superior!”

“No, you’re just being stupid!”

The captain stood behind his two navigators, waiting for them to notice him. They did not, too engrossed in their squabble. “Athem.”

Both men jumped to their feet and stood at attention. “Sir!”

“Would either of you mind telling me what is going on?”

“James thinks-”

“-which is wrong-”

“-would take waaay too-”

“-frankly just circles-”

“Stop!”

Both men jumped.

“What are you arguing about?”

The humans pointed at each other. “He wants to go the wrong way.”

“… why can’t you use the ship’s navigation system?”

The captain jumped when both humans glared at him. Subordinates should not be glaring at their captain, he thought weakly. Human glares were scary.

Steve spoke first. “We don’t need the Nav.”

“We’ll figure it out, sir, don’t worry,” James said.

The captain stared at them. “But, the navigational syst-”

“Its garbage,” Steve retorted.

“We know a better way,” James assured.

“We’re just disagreeing on which way.”

The two started to bicker again.

“Just make sure arrive at port in time,” the captain desperately tried to interject.

The humans assured him they would, before dissolving into petty insults.

The ship did arrive at the correct space station, right on time.

. . . .

“Russ, the navigation system says to stay on this road!”

“I know a short cut!”

“NO!”

“Uh, yeah, I totally know a short cut.”

“No short cuts!”

“What? Why?”

“The last ‘short cut’ you took only saved us two minutes and you nearly bottom out the vehicle! And-”

“Worth it-”

“-the time before that you blew out a tire and we arrived five minutes late-”

“If the tire hadn’t-”

“-and the time before that you saw that creepy roadside stand and got food poisoning!”

“What’s your point?”

“No short cuts!”

“Aw, c’mon, its an adventure!”

“I don’t like adventure! I like predicable and dependable!”

“Dude, this is Earth. Adventure is practically a law.”

“Its not, I researched all laws-”

THUNK

“Oops, you okay buddy? Didn’t realize that pothole was so deep. Hope you didn’t hit your head too hard.”

“…I want to go home.”

“‘Go big or go home!’ That’s the spirit!”

crying

. . . .

Ker glared at the traffic jam as if he could make it move through sheer force of will. His antennas twitched as he fought the urge to glare at his human companion. “If the navigation system had been activated, we would not been able to avoid this.”

Jack tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, seeming not overly bothered. “I know where I’m going. Why do I need the GPS?”

“To avoid situations like this!”

“Eh, we can get off at the next exit, and it’ll be fine.”

“We haven’t moved in seven minutes and the exit is 1.5 miles away!”

“Aw, buddy, it’ll be okay! I know what will cheer you up! Let’s listen to my favorite album from this great comedian-”

. . . .

The first mate received a notification that the ship’s navigation system had been turned off. Concerned, she went to the navigation area of the command deck. “Lt. Chrispian, the navigation system has been turned off.”

Chrispian looked up at her and nodded. “Yes ma’am. I turned it off.”

“Why did you do that?”

“Its wrong.”

The first mate blinked, thrown off. “It malfunctioned? Have you put in a work order?”

“Oh, no, no. Its not broken, its wrong.”

“… wrong?”

“Yes ma’am.” Chrispian pulled up a map on the screen. “See, it wants me to go that way, but that way is stupid, so we’re not doing that. Instead, we’re going this route. Much better.”

Much better. The ship’s navigation system was cutting edge, developed by some of the best minds in the universe, and this human thought his way was much better?

She left to raise her concerns with the captain.

His ears flicked back and his tail twitched. “Is this your first journey with a human navigator?”

“Yes sir.”

The captain signed. “Just… let Lt. Chrispian work. As illogical as it is… humans are just like that. Lt. Chrispian has a perfect record. Thus... allowances are made.” He took in the expression of his first mate and sighed again. “Trust me, it will be okay.”

“I trust you, Captain.”

That trust was not misplaced. The ship arrived a day early, and missed a meteor shower on the original route.

#humans are space orcs #earth is space australia #humans are weird #aliens #humans are space oddities

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anonymous-rendezvous · 6 months

Text

Take A Break, Won’t You?

💙 Ike Eveland x GN!Reader

✦ — Written by Mod S 👿. Beta Read and Edited by Mod I ✨. ⏌

✧ — Contains: Established Relationship, NSFW 🔞, oral (male reciving), Dom!Ike, slightly bratty Reader, teasing, & hair pulling

✦ — Word count: 5k+ | Ao3

The novelist is in the middle of writing one of his greatest stories yet. Except, he’s been so engrossed in writing that he hasn’t paid much attention to you as of late. Luckily for you though, you know just how to push his buttons to gain his attention.

Part 2 of Under-The-Desk Shenanigans

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─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Ike is a very brilliant man. His mind can conjure up some of the most creative and enthralling ideas you’ve ever heard. Ranging between the most fantastical of fantasy to the more mundane and down-to-earth slices of life. Truly, he is one of the most hard-working people you know.

The only downside to such a person is that he gets completely enraptured by his work. Often forgetting to eat or sleep; and on rare occasions, even forgetting to bathe. Running merely on willpower and caffeinated drinks. Today was one such day, but instead of forgetting to eat or sleep, he’s kinda forgotten that you’re his partner. You know he doesn’t do it purposefully. But even with your godly amount of patience – you too have a limit.

Currently, you are making him a cup of tea. Waiting beside the cup as it steeps, enjoying the smell as you stand in your shared kitchen. ‘Maybe this’ll convince him to take a break,’ you think to yourself. Knowing Ike though, he’ll most likely promise to take one, but just keep on working. Sighing at the thought, you remove the tea bag from the cup and discard it. You pause for a moment before deciding to grab him a muffin as well. “Here’s hoping I can convince him with this.”

Walking down the hall, tea and muffin in hand, you can hear his working playlist before you even approach the office door. Setting the small plate containing the muffin over the top of the tea, you raise your free hand to knock lightly before opening the door an inch. Calling out in a soft voice to your boyfriend, “My love, I’ve brought you some tea and a little snack.”

Ike looks up, hazel eyes landing on you as he adjusts his glasses. He sits up straighter and gives you a soft smile as he locks eyes with you. “Oh, thank you, sweetie. I was just thinking about getting myself a drink.” The novelist makes a beckoning motion with his hand, urging you inside as he says, “Go ahead, come in.”

Following his motion, you step in and nudge the door shut behind you. “Making good progress?” you inquire as you approach his desk, setting down the plate.

He nods while gesturing to his work, showing you the latest page. “Actually, yes, I’ve been on a roll since this morning. Even made it to page one hundred and twenty-five, which is past the goal I had for today.”

Your entire demeanor perks up at his words, excitedly asking, “Does this mean you’re done for the day?”

He freezes for a moment before looking at you sheepishly. “Uhhh, well…” He looks to the side, fidgeting with the chain on his glasses. “I was gonna keep going, honestly. My brain is still moving a million miles a minute, and I feel really motivated.”

You pout at him, visibly disappointed by the news as your shoulders sag. He’s been working like this ever since he woke up; you’re worried he’ll overexert himself. Hell, he’s already showing some signs of it. His eyes look tired from staring at the screen and his posture has gotten worse since you’ve last been in here. You refuse to leave him like this. He watches you in confusion as you turn to grab a chair from the other side of the room.

“Darling, what are you doing?” Ike turns in his chair, following your movements as you drag your chair next to his.

“I’m staying here with you to make sure you at least drink all that tea and eat the muffin. You’ve been working all day. So if I can’t convince you to take a break, I’m staying here. Lord knows when you’ll be done.” When you sit in your chair and look back into his eyes, you can see how apologetic he is. He truly feels bad for making you worry over him, and he wishes he could fight this habit, but it’s just so ingrained in him.

With a sigh, he nods and scoots back into his desk. “Okay. I have no problem with you staying either way, but I appreciate your worry for me. I wouldn’t wanna make you any more upset than you are with me, too.”

You cross your arms over your chest, and with an exaggerated pout, you turn your head. “That’s right, you owe me big time.” His melodic laugh fills the room as you peek back at him, watching as Ike picks up his tea to take a sip.

“Of course, darling, you’ll have me all to yourself after I’m done.” His tone is much softer and you can hear the apology laced in those words. Uncrossing your arms, you get comfortable in your chair, pulling your phone out to busy yourself while he continues his novel. Letting a few moments pass, he slowly gets completely re-engrossed in his work. All the while, you decided it was time to switch tactics. After all, your presence and tea offering failed to convince him to take a break.

Time for Plan B; a more physical distraction.

Moving a bit closer, your chair's armrest bumps into his. You let out a small ‘sorry’, causing him to peek at you instead of your hands. He gives you a quick nod and returns to typing, while you wait another moment before slowly pulling up the armrests of both your chairs, granting you new access to his body. He lets out a startled noise as he feels your head suddenly rest on his shoulder, hazel eyes looking down at you. You return his gaze with an innocent expression, honey-coated words dripping from your lips. “Sorry darling, just resting my head on your shoulder. Didn’t mean to startle you, you're just so… warm.”

Ike blushes a bit at your words, physically pausing for a moment. For a second, he could have sworn he heard something else in your tone. Yet when you just stay there on his shoulder, his suspicions tamp down as quickly as they came. Clearing his throat, he returns his gaze to the screen, adjusting his glasses in embarrassment. “W–well, it’s no problem. Stay there as long as you like.” He wasted no time in returning to his work, but this time, thoroughly flustered.

‘Good, all according to plan.’ you think, fighting down a smirk. You make yourself comfortable, nuzzling and cuddling into Ike’s side. The novelist, on the other hand, was completely still aside from his hands diligently working. Yet what was happening within his thoughts was another story.

He was in a state of frenzy, his thoughts spiraling out of control. It wasn't until this moment that he genuinely grasped how much he had missed having you next to him. He feels even worse as he realizes how much time– the sheer amount of weeks this has gone on for and realizes that this is probably how you’ve felt within that time. He swore then he’d only finish a few more pages so he could then properly give you attention. Except Ike is jolted from his thoughts when he suddenly feels one of your hands on his chest, the heat of your skin sinking into the fabric. One of your fingers lightly traced the buttons on his shirt. He tries to pay no mind to it at first – that is until your hand starts trailing lower and lower. “Sweetie,” he keeps his tone even, looking down at you, “what are you doing?”

You look back at him with the same innocent eyes as before, but he swears he sees a hint of mischievousness in them. “Don’t mind me; just preoccupying myself until you're done. Am I being distracting?” Your last question has a slightly smokey tone to it, and you can’t help but giggle as you watch Ike’s cheeks get brighter as he grows more flustered.

“U–uh not at all…” He pauses as he averts his eyes back to his computer. Taking a breath before speaking again, “I’ll only be doing a couple more pages, so this won’t take too long.”

You let out a drawn-out ‘Mhmmm’ as you circle the lower buttons on his shirt. With how you were currently positioned, you could hear the way he swallowed hard. He’s almost there, you can feel it. Just a bit more teasing – a few more sweet words – and then you’ll have his full attention.

The realization was slowly dawning on the novelist. There was no way this couldn’t have been a formulated plan. All the honeyed words, the soft touches– a plan to distract him. And if he was honest with himself, at any other time, he likely would’ve given in already. If only he wasn't in the middle of writing an integral part of his story. He hopes by telling you that he’s almost done, that you won’t take the teasing any further. That’s what he hopes at least. Ike, however, knows you. He’s spent more than enough time with you to pick out your tells, just as you’ve learned to pick up on his. He just prays you’re not in a particularly devilish mood today.

Settling back in, a good half hour passes with you just resting against him – occasionally messing with his buttons from time to time. You didn’t wanna rush your plan. That wouldn’t be fun. And honestly, you want him to welcome the distraction. A frustrated Ike Eveland was attractive, but you didn’t want to frustrate him to the point of actually being upset. Peeking back up at him, you note that he’s no longer tense from your earlier actions. Hazel eyes glazed with focus and his lips pursed in concentration. It’s honestly adorable and if you weren’t feeling so touch-starved you wouldn’t have minded staying like this. Alas, you wanted some harmless payback.

Wetting your lips, you slowly take in the skin on his neck before lightly kissing it as you nuzzle your face into him. Immediately his attention is returned to you, head tipped down to look at you, lips parted as your action had surprised him. However, you just giggle and continue to pepper his neck with soft kisses. Ike makes a noise and you can feel the vibrations of it with the way your lips are pressed against his neck. Sliding your gaze up, you find his face is a mix of flustered and pouty, his eyebrows furrowed to match his emotions.

His eyes search yours as he speaks, a slight franticness to his voice, “Hun, please, I promise I’m almost done. No teasing, okay?”

You wet your lips again in response, catching the way his eyes flicker down for a second before he returns his gaze to yours. “Teasing? Me? I’m just giving you some kisses. It’s been so long–” you draw the word out, intentionally pouting your lips so they continue to brush against his neck– “since I’ve gotten one from you.”

Ike furrows his eyebrows, a slight pout forming on his soft lips. “And I will give you all the kisses you want when I’m done.” His tone is firm but gentle as he makes his point. One of his hands accentuated his words as he spoke. Sighing, he turns his attention back to his computer. “No more teasing, sweetie.” With that, he gets back to typing, determined to not be distracted anymore; keeping his focus on the novel.

Yet the second his eyes return to the screen, a smirk curls against your lips. ‘Perfect, he’s getting frustrated. Time for the finale.’ As you nuzzle into his neck once more, you continue to pepper light kisses on his neck. Letting your lips linger on a few, the hand on his chest moves to unbutton his top shirt button. Your eyes stay locked on his expression, watching him the entire time as he tries to refrain from letting you distract him further. Yet by the pink of his ears, you can tell your touch is working.

Keeping an excruciatingly slow pace, you unbutton another button. Fingers playing with the fabric on his shirt, the skin of your hand just lightly grazing his bare chest. Ike closes his eyes tightly for a second, attempting to calm his breathing. He can’t let you win. He's stubborn. But he knows that you are, too. In the process of him trying to control his breathing, it suddenly catches in his throat – feeling your tongue lick at his neck, causing his body to tense and shiver.

“Hmm?” You chuckle as you bring your hand up, using a finger to turn his head towards you. “What’s wrong? Something bothering you?” You bring yourself closer, noses barely touching, as you say in a hushed voice, “I thought you were gonna continue working?” As you observe, his eye twitches and his face becomes increasingly red from frustration and embarrassment. You slide your hand into the newfound opening you had made in his shirt, sliding it down to undo a few more buttons, your eyes following the path of your hand. Before you can fully get down to his stomach, you feel a firm hand wrap around your wrist. Looking back up at your boyfriend through your lashes; continuing to act innocent even if he doesn’t buy it anymore.

The novelist lets out a deep breath as he continues to watch you. The look in his hazel eyes is intense. He’s figured out the game you're playing and as much as he doesn’t want to let you win, he’s just as touch-starved as you. His frustration mixes with his bottled-up affection. He just wants you; wants to touch and tease you back. Ike pulls you closer by your captured wrist, wanting to kiss you.

Except he’s left you wanting for so long; you can’t just give him what he wants so easily. Tilting your head away slightly, his lips press against your cheek instead. When he pulls away, he’s met with your half-lidded expression. “Uh-uh, come on Ikey. Did you think I’d give you what you want after you’ve deprived me of what I’ve wanted for days?” With a breathy tone, you lean closer to his ear, “I know you’re frustrated, but whose fault is that?” With how close you are, you can hear the sound of his teeth clenching in vexation as your warm breath brushes against his ear.

He lets out a huff, and you chuckle as you pull away. Feeling quite pleased with yourself as you’ve successfully gotten him frustrated and aroused. Removing your wrist out of his hold, you grab his as you stand from your chair, pushing it aside as it’s completed its purpose. With a little shove, Ike’s desk chair easily rolls back as you make space to scoot in between him and his desk. Using your knees to knock his legs further apart to make room for yourself. Lifting a knee to place on the open space on his chair, right in between his thighs, you use your free hand to brace yourself on the back of the chair as you hover over him. “You can keep working, babe. But I think I should help with your growing problem down there.” You both simultaneously look at the ever-growing bulge in Ike’s pants and then back at each other. Ike’s gaze seemed to grow more intense behind his frames – but also a splash of excitement. “Plus, it’ll give me what I want, win-win.” You say with a smile.

Ike gives no resistance to what you’re implying, keeping still in your grasp. Only his piercing hazel eyes tell you everything you need to know. There’s a pause before he finally speaks, his tone deeper – almost exasperated – as he talks. “Fine. I’ll let you do what you want. But–" he gives you a sharp look "I am going to get you back for this. Expect a punishment following this; I won’t be going easy on you.” He feels your hands tremble a bit at the thought. However, you stay firm as you move closer to his face.

Lips grazing his as you speak, “Likewise.” You lean forward and finally connect your lips properly. Ike nearly catches you off guard with how quickly he pushes his tongue in your mouth. You're not complaining though, you want it just as much as he does. He leans his head forward, tongue swirling with yours as he tries to gain the upper hand on you; his glasses bumping against your face lightly. Opening your eyes, you pull back from his lips, his head jerking forward a bit from the sudden action. Your laugh is breathy. “Aww, so pent-up.” He pants as he looks up at you through his eyelashes, eyes conveying annoyance and unhidden lust. "Don’t worry, I’ll help you with that, but we’re gonna do it my way.”

The novelist raises an eyebrow at you, curious about what you have in store for him. Your hands separate from his wrist and he has to hold himself back from pulling you against him – knowing you’d stop if he was too rash. He feels your hand on his chest and he follows it as it trails down, continuing your earlier actions of unbuttoning his shirt as you make your way lower. Ike jolts a bit when you make it to the hem of his pants. The lust clouding his mind enhances his senses, causing your touch to feel like jolts of electricity throughout his body. He looks back up when he hears that infuriatingly teasing, yet alluring tone from you.

“Since you’re so adamant about working, I’ll let you do it. But, I’m going to take what I want from you…” trailing off with a breathy chuckle, you lean closer, lips nearly brushing his ear, “and what I want is your cock in my mouth.” Your voice is a low whisper, and you smirk as you feel him shiver from the vulgarity of your words.

Pulling back, you remove your knee from his chair, kneeling in front of him as you pull him closer by the armrest. He watches as you undo his belt and pants, hands, then gently pulling his half-hard cock out of his boxers. Licking your lips, you slowly start to pump him in your hand, looking up to watch his face scrunch in pleasure. “Mmm, already so close to being hard, that desperate for my lips, aren’t you?”

He scowls at you, composing himself before scooting in closer – startling you a bit. Ike reaches up to adjust his glasses, giving you a small smirk of his own, making it feel as though your stomach was doing flips. “How about you stop talking and get to work? You’re the one who seems eager for it, darling.” Ike wasn’t gonna let you humiliate him completely. He might be sexually frustrated right now, but he could still make you a mess. A precursor to the punishment he’s going to give you later. And quite frankly, you were looking forward to it.

With a huff, you get to work immediately. Building up the saliva in your mouth before spitting in your hand, pumping him with a firmer grip than before. Ike hisses in pleasure, yet is quick to straighten himself out as he consciously returns his attention to his work, continuing to type away at his novel. He lets out a few sighs, his breathing heavy as he works, biting at his lip to keep himself somewhat composed. ‘How the hell am I gonna concentrate with their hand on me like that–ugh, I won’t be able to hold back for very long.’

His little noises only pushed you to continue, enjoying being able to finally touch him, and soon, taste him. Your hand works meticulously and with practice ease, as you feel him grow harder, the wetness of your saliva helping your hand glide across him. When he is fully hard, you pull your hand away, using your other hand to push any hair out of your face before giving his cock a long lick from the base to the tip. Giving it a little kiss and giggling when you hear yet another sharp inhale of breath. Returning your hand to hold him as you lean forward to lick up and down his cock repeatedly, your hand massaging his tip; urging his pre-cum to leak out.

His cock throbs in your hand, feeling the wetness of the pre-cum cover your thumb as you rubbed the underside of his tip. Collecting it, you use it to lube his cock more, stroking it a few more times before you lean your head forward. Your lips give the tip of his cock another kiss before taking him into your mouth, letting your tongue swipe across it slowly.

Ike lets out a low grunt, his thighs twitching from the pleasurable strokes of your tongue. He risks taking a peek down at you; watching as you engulf half of him, feeling it slide down your throat. ‘Fuck, that feels good…’ Biting his lip, Ike’s fist clench on his desk, his breath shaky and voice getting caught in his throat from holding back his noises. His eyes follow your movements, watching you bob your head up and down, feeling your hands move to rest on his legs. The moans and sighs you were making against him weren’t helping, as he felt himself start to throb more into your mouth.

He's surprised when you suddenly lock eyes with him, a whine almost slipping past his lips when you suddenly pull off his cock. Smirking up at him with an intentional licking of your lips – his eyes tracking the movement. “What’s the matter? I thought you were working on your novel, babe?”

Ike lets out a guttural noise before looking back at his screen. His eyes quickly scan the contents before looking back down at you, seeming to contemplate his next move. The novelist weighs between two invisible options before letting out a deep breath, settling his intense lust-clouded hazel eyes on you. “To hell with it…” He sees your eyes widen as he scoots his chair away from the desk, your hands landing on the floor as they fall from his legs. “I can’t take it anymore–just, come on. Please, finish me off. Your mouth feels… exquisite.” His voice was demanding and breathy, and he watched as your expression grew just a bit more flustered; his lips twitching upward briefly in a smirk.

Swallowing hard, you collect yourself before looking up at him with half-lidded excitement. You leaned your body forward, crawling towards him as you held his burning gaze. When you get back in between his legs, your eyes glance down at his cock before looking back to him. “Don’t hold back, baby. I want all that cum in my mouth.” And with that, your mouth took him in again, bobbing your head with just as much vigor as before.

The office is filled with the sounds of both your moans; yours muffled and his quiet with a mix of lustful sighs. Ike watches intently as you suck him off, the wet sounds only driving him closer to the edge. He wanted more–no; he needed more. All he wanted right now was to cum in your mouth. To watch you swallow it slowly, tasting and milking all of him. He watched on, one of his hands tangled in his hair, pushing his bangs back to make sure he could take in the sight of you when an idea struck him. The novelist's free hand trailed its way down to rest on the top of your head, causing you to look up at him from your ministrations.

“Darling,” the pet name dripped from his lips like honey, “how about you take a bit more?” You were about to nod when you felt his hand slip to the back of your head. It took you a moment to register, but he was a bit quicker than your thoughts. “Here, let me help you…” Ike twists his fingers into a good portion of your hair before pulling at it to make you take more of his cock in your mouth. You let out a long moan as your eyelids flutter. This type of desperation from your boyfriend is rare; yet whenever it does happen, it never fails to make you feel heat flaring throughout your body. Your lips and tongue move faster against him, happily taking every inch as his moaning picks up in frequency. His glasses have started to fog around the edges thanks to the heat radiating off his breath. It took every last shred of will not to close his eyes from the immense pleasure.

You could feel his hips starting to softly buck into your mouth, and every time he’d pull your hair it would only spur you on to take more of him – causing you to deep throat his length. His moans were getting more unashamed as you made sure your mouth left no inch of him untouched; getting louder as he chased his orgasm. You feel saliva start to form more and drip down his cock, trying to keep up with his hips; tongue swirling around to give him more friction.

Ike’s heartbeat was heavy in his ears and he felt his whole body tense. He has to swallow hard to keep his voice from giving out as he moans. “Come on darling, so close. I’m almost there…” He reaches the other hand in his hair down to your head, both hands now firmly on your head. The sweat that had begun to form on his forehead, drips down the side of his face; a side effect of your current activity, filling the room with tangible heat.

You feel Ike pull your hair back, making you look him in the eyes; moaning in response to how hot he looked. Keeping eye contact with him, you feel him twitch even more in your mouth. Reaching down to rub in-between your legs to give yourself some relief, wanting to cum along with him; needing the sought-after friction since this began. His eyes widen a bit as he watches your hand frantically rub against yourself, then fully slipping beneath the hem of your clothes, causing him to bite his lip as he pushes your head into him deeper.

“Oh fuck, baby, I’m cumming! I’m– Ah! Come on… be good–hah–swallow it all..” Ike's eyes instinctively close as he cums, cock throbbing and feeling bliss as it all pours down your throat. His back arches in his chair from the pleasure before collapsing back down, sweat-coated chest heaving with his labored breaths.

It’s to the feeling of his warm cum filling your mouth that draws you to orgasm as well, body trembling as you try to keep your mouth closed around him to swallow; your own hand slowing to draw out the pleasure. Your eyes roll back as you drink him in slowly, free hand reaching up to softly massage his balls, wanting every last drop; Ike lets out a cute gasp as you do.

The novelist watches you with breathless wonder, feeling as though he could go again with how debauched you looked. So eager to drink down every drop of him. He swallows hard as you release him from your mouth only to start licking him clean, letting out a soft sigh when you finally pull your mouth away from his softening cock - but not without leaving one last kiss on it as you do. He leans his head back as he tries to steady his breathing, untangling his hands from your hair to wipe away the sweat from his face.

You chuckle as you watch him, slipping your hand out of your pants. As your eyes wander up his body to look up at his face, you wet your swollen lips, speaking up to tease him. “I’m glad I finally got your attention away from your book.” Your voice is somewhat raspy after the act you’d just done. “Maybe I should do this more often when you're overworking yourself, hmm?” You laugh as his head lifts to look at you, a pouty expression on his flushed face.

“You better not…” Hazel eyes squint at you.

“Hehe, well maybe you should learn to take proper breaks then, Ikey.” You stick your tongue out at him playfully and he huffs, defeated.

He shakes his head, a fond look in his eyes. “Fine, but only because you’re not asking. You’re honestly demanding me more than anything, sweetie…” You giggle and carefully stand up, legs a bit wobbly from sitting on them for so long. Ike notices this and scoots forward, grabbing your wrist gently to steady you. “Careful there, darling.”

Nodding in appreciation, you steady your stance, looking down to make sure you're not wobbling anymore. Meeting his eyes, you smile sweetly. “We should go get cleaned up. I’m insisting that we take a shower together, then I’ll leave you alone again so you can finish those last few pages.”

He lets go of you and nods in agreement, tucking himself back in his pants as he does. “Well, how could I refuse, dear? I’ll also give you cuddles and attention, like I said earlier after I’m done. You deserve it after my negligence.” Ike stands up and gives you one of his beautiful soft smiles, making your gaze soften.

“Well, I just hope you learned your lesson. Come on now, I’m sure you don’t like being sweaty either.” You walk happily towards the door, hearing your boyfriend’s footsteps follow behind you.

Just as you're about to leave the room, you feel his hand softly rest on your shoulder, before feeling his soft breath on your ear; his voice has an almost sinister tone as he whispers, “And since I’m recalling things,” a shiver racks through your body, “don’t think I forgot about your… punishment, that I mentioned earlier.” Your eyes widen as you tense and you’re about to look at him. However, he just continues moving past you, making his way to your shared bathroom.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Mod S 👿: Here I am fighting the Bottom!Ike agenda. Not that it’s shown too much here, but I really tried to mimic his kinda ‘assertive’ nature here (idk how to explain it). I was very heavily going off of how he acts in the Voice-packs and some character mannerisms he’s done on stream too. Anyway, first time writing Ike with smut, I hope I did okay!

───

Likes are nice and we do appreciate them. However, comments/feedback is what really motivates us to continue writing. Even just a keyboard smash or emojis are a joy to see!

We do not allow our stories to be translated or reposted/shared anywhere. The only places our stories should be found are on Ao3 or Tumblr. Nowhere else.

#ike eveland x reader #luxiem x reader #nijisanji x reader #ike eveland #nijisanji ike #luxiem #nijisanji luxiem #nijisanji en #nijisanji #x reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #written by Mod S 👿

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larissaschristies · 3 months

Text

Symphonies - Chapter 2

(AO3 Link in Title)

Chapter 1: Tumblr | AO3

Word Count: 2,855

Summary: You and Larissa have a… confusing dinner together.

Notes: Thank you all SO. MUCH. for liking/reblogging my little fic, it means the world to me! And again, thank you to @weemssapphic for being the best beta!!

Tag List: @barbarasstar, @readingtheentrails

—————————————————————————————

You arrived at Koto twenty minutes early, your anxiety about being late and making Larissa wait for you not allowing you to be any later. You waited in your car, mindlessly scrolling on your phone, when out of the corner of your eye you saw a flash of white-blonde hair as Larissa rose from her vehicle. Your breath caught in your throat as you realized her hair was not in its usual pinned up twist, but falling in loose curls over her shoulders. She had swapped that delicious tan dress for an emerald green velvet suit, perfectly tailored to fit her body in all the right places. You looked down at yourself, the cream colored satin top and black pencil leg trousers suddenly feeling entirely inappropriate for this meeting. When you looked back in Larissa’s direction she was gone, and you briefly thought she’d changed her mind about meeting you before you realized she was halfway to the entrance of the restaurant, her mile-long legs making short work of the distance. You quickly removed your keys from the ignition and shoved them into your small purse, followed shortly by a failed attempt at stuffing your phone into the purse as well before you gave up and slipped it into the pocket of your trousers. As you opened the door to step out of your car, you felt the telltale dampness in the air of impending rain and huffed out a sigh; you had left your umbrella hanging on the doorknob of your closet at home.

Great, you thought, can’t wait to get absolutely drenched on the way to my car later.

You raised your left arm, the smart watch on your wrist automatically lighting up to show you the time: 6:52pm. Perfect. You closed the car door and bent down to check your makeup and hair in the side mirror before heading into the restaurant.

The lighting inside Koto was dim, small lights over individual tables provided a warm glow throughout the room. The walls are painted a deep navy blue, tasteful artwork in rich golden frames peppered throughout the perimeter. Your eyes scanned the room for Larissa, and your heart skipped a beat when you located her near the back corner of the dining room. The host walked up then and smiled at you.

“Party of one, ma’am?”

“Actually, I am meeting someone.” You said. “Tall blonde woman in a velvet suit?”

“Ah, yes!” He chuckled and stepped away from the host stand. “Larissa is right this way.” He gestured for you to follow him and weaved his way through the tables to the two person booth Larissa now sat at.

“Miss Weems, your companion for the evening has arrived.” He smiled politely at you both and bowed before he excused himself and walked back toward the front of the restaurant. You nervously tucked your hair behind your ears and waved shyly.

“Hi.” You all but squeaked out. Larissa looked up at you and a grin spread across her face. She held a pale hand out across the table in invitation.

“Please, Lillian, sit.” You did as you were told and tried not to focus on how the image of Larissa looking up at you would likely be imprinted on your brain forever, or how that action made your core throb.

“Good evening, Principal Weems. How did the rest of your afternoon go?” You placed your purse on the seat next to you and reached for the menu despite the fact that you already knew what you’d be ordering.

“Oh please, darling, call me Larissa,” the deep laugh she let out sounded like music to your ears, “I’m not your principal after hours.”

“Larissa.” You said, still a bit nervous despite the smile you forced to your face.

“My afternoon went quite quickly, if I’m being honest. I tend to get rather caught up in my work, and before I know it the sun has disappeared and I haven’t left my desk in hours.” Larissa reached for her glass of red wine and took a small sip.

“Oh my gosh, me too! Well, not at my desk, obviously, but when I’m practicing my cello.” Larissa smiled, her red lips parting slightly, the sight of which spurred you on. “I find it almost meditative, repeating passages until I make fewer and fewer mistakes. I don’t believe it’s possible to ever play a piece perfectly, there are as many interpretations of the ink on the paper as there are people in the world. There’s no way anyone can say that my interpretation or Jacqueline du Pre’s interpretation or even a young student’s interpretation of any given piece is incorrect; they’re just different. Hell, even my interpretation of The Swan by Saint-Saens has evolved from the first time I played it at 14 to what it is now. I’ve changed as a person, I’ve experienced more life, and the way I perform the piece has grown with me.” Somewhere in your monologue, Larissa had set her wine glass down and perched her chin on the palm of her hand, her fingers playing with her dangly earrings. Her eyes never left your face and when she didn’t speak after you were done you grew self conscious and leaned back into the booth.

“Sorry, I… I got carried away and took over the entire conversation.” You tucked an errant piece of hair behind your ear and crossed your arms over your chest.

“No, darling, nonsense.” She reached across the table and gestured for you to give her your hand, which of course you did. She pulled you away from where you’d shrunken back into your seat so that your face was back in the light. “I could listen to you talk about music for hours. The way your face lights up and you come to life is bea—“ She stopped abruptly and her eyes widened a bit as she quickly pulled her hand back to her lap and looked away, her cheeks turning pink. You opened your mouth to say something before getting cut off by the waiter returning to your table.

“Good evening, ladies, what can I get started for you in the kitchen?” He looked to you first, his pen and paper poised ready to write down your order.

“Good evening! I’ll take an order of salmon sashimi and the sirloin steak, medium rare, please. Larissa?” You looked over at the woman and smiled, only to notice she had the menu open and covering her face.

“I’ll just have the house salad with shrimp, and two orders of salmon sushi, please.” She closed the menu and handed it to the waiter and you did the same. Once he finished writing down Larissa’s order, he bowed quickly and left the table. You turned your attention back to Larissa, who had already stood up and placed her napkin on the table.

“Excuse me, I need to use the ladies’ room.” She said shortly and walked away before you could even process what just happened.

—

Larissa closed the bathroom door behind and locked it. She took a deep breath and placed her hand on her stomach, right underneath her diaphragm so she could focus on breathing. She had almost called you, her newly hired employee, beautiful, and it was sending her into a panic. Not because she didn’t think it was true, no. The exact opposite, in fact. From the moment she’d stepped into her office and laid eyes on your face as you whirled around to greet her, she’d thought you were the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen. Unfortunately, you were also the best candidate for this job she had ever seen, and she would rather do what’s best for her Nevermore family than take the risk of allowing feelings to develop.

She’d never had much luck with feelings. The first time she’d experienced anything akin to love, her heart was shattered and she was left picking up the pieces as her roommate went on to live a disgustingly blissful life with a dolt of a man. The second time she’d let someone in, they had taken advantage of her, subtly having her shift things about her appearance until Larissa looked in the mirror one day and realized she wasn’t even Larissa anymore. It had taken her two years to get back to herself, and even now when she looked in the mirror she still wasn’t sure what was wrong with her to begin with. The third time… the third time Larissa developed feelings for someone, she was manipulated, assaulted, and damn near killed. So no, Larissa did not have a good track record with feelings. She refused to call it love because she honestly didn’t know what love felt like, what it looked like, what it could be like.

Larissa took another deep breath and shook her head slightly, as if her brain was an etch-a-sketch and a simple jostle could clear away her mistakes. She walked over to the sink and turned the cold tap on, then reached for the paper towel dispenser to pull one out. She held it under the tap briefly to get it wet, then folded it into a small square and squeezed the excess water out. She used it to gently dab at her face, the cool touch of a paper towel helped her ground herself and stop the panic attack. She grabbed another paper towel to dry her face and hands, then threw both of them in the trash. She looked in the mirror and straightened her blazer and shirt collar and turned on her heel to leave the bathroom.

—

“So sorry, darling, there was a line.” Larissa said and you looked up from what you had been reading on your phone. You shoved the phone back into your pocket and smiled up at her.

“No worries!” You replied. Your eyes followed Larissa as she slid into the booth and you licked your lips subconsciously. She reached for her wine glass and used her other hand to toss her hair over her shoulder, then took a sip of her wine. As the glass left her lips, a drop began to slide down the outside edge and her tongue darted out almost instantly to catch it. Your eyes locked in on the way the tip of her tongue flattened against the glass, then the way it curled as she pulled it and the drop of errant wine back into her mouth.

Okay, maybe a few worries, you thought to yourself, suddenly feeling very warm in this booth.

“What do you like to do in your free time, Lillian?” She said as she sat the glass back down on the table, like your brain hadn’t just short-circuited.

“I uh… uhm…” Your mouth opened and closed a few times and you were only too aware that you looked a bit like a fish trying to breathe out of water. You cleared your throat and willed your brain to come up with something, literally anything, so you don't look like a fool in front of Larissa. “I book. Read. I read books.”

‘I book.’ What the fuck was that, idiot??? It took everything in your power not to roll your eyes at yourself, lest Larissa think you’re bored of her.

“Oh? I love reading as well. My personal library is rather extensive, and the Nevermore library is quite large as well. I’m sure you and I will run into each other there on occasion. What kind of books do you read?”

Don’t tell her you read fairy porn, don’t tell her you read fairy porn.

“Fai-“ Shit. “Fantasy mostly, with the occasional romance thrown into the mix. I also enjoy nonfiction every now and then, usually about music or the industry. There’s this great book called Playing for Their Lives that details how El Sistema helps children and young adults in Venezuela escape the gang violence by giving them a place to go and commune with others as part of a youth orchestra. That book is a big part of why I want to devote my life to teaching: I want to give kids a safe place to come to when they don’t know where else to go, and an outlet to express those difficult emotions that even adults struggle with.” You looked up from where you’d been fidgeting with your hands and found Larissa’s eyes wet with tears.

“Oh my god, Larissa I’m so sorry, was it something I said?” You scrambled to unroll your silverware napkin and reached across the table, catching the tears under her eye as they spilled over.

“No, darling, no. It’s just… the way you speak about music and how much you clearly love it is… refreshing.” She grabbed her own napkin from her lap and let out a watery chuckle as she wiped at her eyes. “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone as passionate about their work as I am with mine. People often look at the hours I spend in my office, the time I dedicate to my students as being silly. ‘It’s just a school, Larissa, get a life.’ What they don’t understand is that Nevermore is my life.” She placed her napkin back in her lap and picked at invisible lint on her suit, avoiding your gaze as much as she could.

You reached across the table then, holding your hand out for her to take. She hesitated briefly before placing her hand gingerly on your own. Her hand was warm and soft, the tips of her oxblood painted nails that grazed over your palm sent shivers down your spine. Your eyes were locked onto hers as the restaurant around you seemed to fall away and you leaned forward almost imperceptibly. Before you could do anything stupid, though, the waiter walked up to your table with a tray laden with food balanced on his arm.

“Dinner is served, ladies, enjoy!” He carefully removed each plate from the tray and set them down in front of you and Larissa, then bowed and left your table. The rest of dinner passed without anything too dramatic happening, and soon it was time for you and Larissa to part ways.

“Lillian, I’m so glad you were able to join me this evening. I feel like I’ve really gotten to know who you are as a person in a way that wouldn’t have been possible in a formal interview.” You both stood in the mud room of the restaurant, Larissa poised to race to her car with an umbrella grasped in her hand. You stood there empty-handed, the torrential rain outside filling your bones with dread. “Do you have an umbrella, darling?”

“I uh, I sure don’t.” You laughed awkwardly and gestured to where your car was parked. “It’s not a big deal, though, I can make a run for it. And, as my granny used to always tell me, I’m not made of sugar so I’m not going to melt.” Larissa scoffed out a laugh before she reached over and pulled you into her side.

“Nonsense, dear, my umbrella is big enough for the both of us and I’m happy to escort you to your car.” Your nose filled with the warm vanilla scent of the tall woman next to you and your eyes fluttered closed as you felt the warmth of her body begin to seep into your own. If Larissa noticed this, she had the decency to not bring attention to it and before you knew it she was pulling you out into the rain, her umbrella opening up just in time to keep you from both getting absolutely drenched.

Well, from the rain anyway, you thought as she navigated the two of you through the parking lot to your vehicle. Larissa kept her hand on the small of your back for the entire length of the parking lot, and the second she pulled away it instantly felt too cold. You unlocked the doors of your car and turned around to find Larissa impossibly close to you. Her breath grazed across the top of your face as she leaned in to open the door for you. She held the umbrella over the gap to allow you to sit without getting wet.

“Drive safe, darling. I shall see you at Nevermore on Monday, yes?” She straightened and smoothed over the front of her suit jacket.

“Yes, of course. I wouldn’t miss it.” You smiled up at her and stuck your arm out to grab the handle of the door. As it closed you watched Larissa take a few steps back before she waved and turned to head for her own vehicle. Her hips swayed gently with each step, and as much as you loved to watch her go, your heart longed for her to come back. You put the keys on the ignition and turned the car on. After you turned the windshield wipers on high and adjusted the temperature of the car, you shifted into drive and pulled away from Koto, the events of the evening looping in your mind the whole way home.

#Larissa Weems #Larissa Weems x Reader #Larissa Weems Fanfic #Gwendoline Christie #Wednesday #Wednesday Netflix #LarissasChristies

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