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harstyle · 8 months

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… I think I love you

Summary: you definitely like Harry, and he may like you, but your insecurities might be preventing you from ever finding out— featuring a friends-with-benefits situation, a heavy dose of self degradation and miscommunication between both characters.

Pairing: normie!reader x famous!harry

Warnings: there’s a lot of crying

Word-count: around 3.2k

a/n: this idea came to me when I saw this couple at a party yesterday and she was sitting in his lap and he was peppering kisses along her neck and I just love love, so here we go (obviously it wouldn’t be fun without at least a little angst tho). I did write this in like an hour and I didn‘t edit, so go easy on me :).

Harry was being weird.

He was touching her all over, pulling her to sit in his lap and peppering kisses along the expanse of her neck, all while keeping his arms circled around her waist. He was resting his chin on her shoulder, staying mostly quiet even though he usually always had something to say. He was stroking her skin, touching wherever he could get through to her winter clothing. He was ignoring all of the strange looks he was receiving from his friends, lips molding into a slight smirk against her skin as they spoke politics and gossip at the table.

Y/N had a horrible feeling in her stomach. It was unusual for Harry to show so much affection around their friends— the two of them had just agreed that their friends didn’t need to see so much of their arrangement. It wasn’t like they were dating, or better yet, in love, so keeping it to themselves seemed like the sensible thing to do. Don’t get her wrong; their friends knew about it, but Y/N and Harry mostly kept the physical aspects in the bedroom for no one to see. He surely had never been so blatant about it.

Her heart was pounding. To be fair, her heart always did that when Harry was around. Y/N had had a crush on Harry since she’d met him years ago, but back then she hadn’t thought she’d have much of a chance with him. Y/N had heard of him dating supermodels, rich girls with a ‘perfect figure’ and scandalous backgrounds and had always kept the idea of a relationship with Harry Styles far far away in the name of self preservation.

But then he’d kissed her.

He’d been drunk when he’d done it, but Y/N hadn’t cared in the slightest. When morning came, Harry had explained that he wasn’t looking for a relationship and that while he thought Y/N was wonderful, he didn’t want anything serious with her.

She’d remembered those words and lived religiously by them.

Only ever calling him when she really needed him, allowing him to knock on her door whenever he felt like fucking her, being okay with acting in the role of little play toy even though she’d always liked him.

And it wasn’t like their arrangement wasn’t mutual— it had started out that way, but it was slowly eroding her mind— exhausting her until all she did some nights was cry.

And even though Harry’s touch felt wonderful, and his confident display of affection had initially warmed her heart, all she wanted to do right now was cry. Cry because she was realizing, through all of this, that something like this was all she’d ever wanted. With Harry, without Harry— she’d been needing something real, and this wasn’t real. This was all pretend, a silly arrangement between two incompatible friends; one famous bastard and one delusional office job girl, his handsome face and her insecure mind.

She couldn’t handle being with him sometimes. She would open the door of her apartment, let her eyes trail over his features and doubt that he wanted to be there with her. It seemed so farfetched that he would want to fuck her, that he’d want to touch her body and kiss away her fears. She almost felt disgusted by it, by his touch, knowing that he’d touched other, better women— and many of them.

She always made him turn the lights off.

So there was no doubt that he was drunk out of his mind right now. Because why else would inform their whole friend group— not just select friends, their whole group which consisted of some mere acquaintances, of their relationship. Situationship. Whatever it had blossomed into.

Harry’s hand was burning against her stomach and she couldn’t do it anymore. She excused herself quietly to the bathroom. Y/N knew Harry’s house like the back of her hand, so she found it rather easily and walked inside. She didn’t lock the door, just washed her hands. Over, and over, and over again. She washed away all of her horrible, degrading thoughts and tried to drown out the mean voices.

You are your own worst enemy.

The knock she heard on the door was loud, but it didn’t interrupt her train of thoughts. She kept her mind on his hands, his wonderful hands, on her disgusting skin. She wanted to wash away the pain.

She could see Harry out of her periphery. She went back to the soap dispenser.

“You okay?”

Her hands became rougher with it as his voice invaded on her privacy. Her eyes became glossy as she turned on the water again. There was no doubt in her mind that Harry was watching her every move, but she didn’t really care about that.

“Y/N, turn the water off.”

She did it almost instantaneously, like she’d been needing somebody other than herself to tell her to do it because her mind wasn’t strong enough to convince her of it on its own. Harry grabbed a towel, slowly drying her hands and massaging them until they were warm and dry again.

He was staring at her, but she didn’t care if she looked strange to him now. She was strange. She’d always felt like she was faking around Harry— like she needed to be a certain version of herself in order for him to like her, and so there was this wall of pretentiousness that came with being around him.

Sometimes she wasn’t perfect or sensible, sometimes she wanted to wash her hands like a lunatic and cry all the while doing it, so he needed to finally see that. See the pain he was causing her.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, eyes trailing over her features delicately.

“Nothing,” she answered with her gaze on her hands, which were still in the towel.

“Do you want me to kick them out?”

“No,” she shook her head quickly, very decisive in her answer. “Don’t kick them out.”

It was a weird concept anyway, kicking his own friends out so he could… what, comfort her out of whatever state she’d landed in?

He took her hands delicately and interlaced them with his, throwing the towel onto the floor somewhere. She watched as it fell, as her hands found their new home in his, and finally looked up to see Harry already looking at her.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she said, almost furious.

“Like what?” He had this innocent glint in his eye, void of any bad intentions and almost oblivious to her anger.

“Like you want to kiss me.”

“I do want to kiss you,” he smiled. Then he squeezed her hands, “can I?”

Y/N had never really learned how to say no, so with her silence, but also her body inching closer to his, came the approval he was looking for. He anchored a hand onto her jaw, allowing his lips to linger on hers with a solid grasp.

Her eyes fluttered shut, the tears forming in them finally released.

Y/N deepened it, trying to latch into him even more to make these feelings go away, convince herself that everything would be fine as long as Harry was actually kissing her, but the ill feeling in her stomach worsened.

She broke away from him, pressing her forehead to his chin, and shook her head. “I can’t do this anymore.”

He was still smiling. “What?”

Panic had risen in her chest, but she still wanted to go through with this.

“I want to end this.” This because she had no idea what they were.

Harry’s eyebrows drew together in concern but when he let his hands rest on her waist, she pulled away. “I can’t. I don’t want this anymore.”

“You mean— what, you mean us?”

She nodded, “I’m sorry.”

“Why… I mean, what… since when have you—“

“Weeks, I think. I need time alone, away from you. I can’t… I want something more than this.”

He pulled away, “oh.”

“Not with you!“ she rushed to say, later realizing that it had sounded a bit offensive when he frowned in response, “but I’m getting older and I need to feel like I’m going somewhere with my life, you know? Can’t just keep being somebody’s fuck buddy.”

The words tasted sour on her tongue.

“Oh,” he said again, and it drove her crazy. Why couldn’t he just say something other than that?

He was so enigmatic that it was hard to say goodbye to him, but she had to. She had to cut ties, at least for a little, so she could recover and find somebody who didn’t make her feel bad about herself, but also did everything else exactly the way Harry did them.

“Alright, if that’s what you want,” he nodded. It was robotic, his face stoic.

There was no fight in him— she didn’t know whether she was delighted or angered by it.

She was staring at him like she wanted to memorize every curve of his mouth, his nose, the exact shade of his irises. She knew this was the end, their demise, and if she never got to be close with him again, maybe it would be fine if she could look back and remember everything about him.

Y/N left Harry in that bathroom and headed straight home.

—

Y/N hadn’t seen any of her friends in a month. Her time had been overwhelmed with work and therapy, days spent at home crying because the lack of a romantic future in her life had finally sunk in. She was broken. She was hurt and ruined, and it had all really been her fault.

But she wanted to get out again. She wanted to see her friends and let her lips curl into a relieved smile at the sight of them goofing around drunk, or making jokes about how hellish it was to be alive.

She’d gone over the possibility of running into Harry and decided it would be fine, that she’d taken enough time away to cope with seeing him again.

He arrived at Sarah’s house at 10 pm, a glass of wine latched onto his glove-covered hand. Y/N watched from the kitchen as he gave her a hug, toed off his shoes and caught her eyes. He tried to smile, as did she, and raised his arm in a wave. Y/N nodded in acknowledgement, beginning to play with the bottle of beer in her hands. She was nervous. She was broken.

Her friends had seen it, of course, the exchange, but they stayed quiet. Neither of them had spoken about their falling out, but their scattered separate arrivals at house gatherings as well as her loud absence from the last few ones had confirmed things further.

She’d tried to avoid him, but Sarah’s house wasn’t as big as Harry’s. There was less space and everywhere she was, Harry couldn’t be more than a few feet away. There was a magnetic force that she was trying to ignore, as well as the pained looks he would be so blatant about.

Once things had quieted down, and the group had left to scatter in small gatherings around the fire place, on the couch, outside on the patio, Y/N felt it the best opportunity to sneak into the corridor where no one was around.

Well, no one but him. He always seemed to find her.

“I went on a date last week.”

Y/N sighed, “you’ve gotta stop following me around—“

“Because I hadn’t, you know,” he said, voice cracking and hand tightening around his glass, “I hadn’t been on one in months. Ever since we started, actually. Never thought it was necessary, or that I wanted to. But then you left, and I thought about what you said, and I really wanted to date. So I went to the bar, you know? I went to the bar and I… I saw this girl, and she was beautiful. She had long, wavy hair and she wore these really cute glasses, you know? Like, these brown tortoiseshell glasses similar to the ones you wear sometimes, and I fell in love with those glasses. Just fucking… couldn’t stop staring at them. I was thinking about you and about the night you left and I…” the words seemed to get lost somewhere in his throat, but he had this look on his face that mirrored painful confusion.

“Harry—“

“I want you to know that that was a really fucked up thing to do.”

That was it. After that, he left. He faced the other way and walked away from her. It wasn’t until he reached the door and opened it that she started following him.

“No!” She protested, “no, you don’t get to say that and walk away from me, you dick. You were the one who… who— just, you hurt me!”

That seemed to irk him (she’d wanted it to) because he turned again, stepping so close that she started backtracking, “I hurt you? I hurt you? You were the one who left!”

“Because you’re confusing as fuck!”

“What do you even—“ he shook his head, “you’re fucking quiet. You never tell me what you’re thinking or how you’re feeling and all at once, you burst at me. You never… you never say anything.”

“That’s what you wanted, Harry, so don’t tell me it’s only me when it was always about sex. You wanted the arrangement, you wanted booty calls, you wanted—“

“I wanted you to be you! The way you were when we were friends— so I tried to get you to open up, get closer to you, but you would never let me!”

Y/N was sure their friends could hear them from the living room, but she couldn’t find it in her to worry. “Why let myself get hurt when all this was was some stupid way to pass time? Cause that’s all it was, right? You call me, I call you— that’s fine, but it’s not worth exposing my secrets for.”

“Right, well I was under the impression things were going better but fine, if that’s what you think.”

She tutted. “Don’t do that. You told me you didn’t date, that we couldn’t start anything more and I never pushed you. I did exactly as you said.”

He blew out a breath, “things change.”

“I don’t know if you did, honestly.”

“I did.”

“You did?” She challenged, knowing it would blow up in her face. “What changed? Tell me exactly what changed, because it all felt the same to me! But I don’t know, maybe I missed your devastating declaration of love, or maybe I—“

“Alright, I love you, okay?” He was gripping his face in frustration, not nearly confident enough to look her in the eyes. In a more controlled tone, he repeated himself. “I love you.”

She scoffed. Out loud. It was followed by a laugh too, her scoff, and it reverberated through the room. Then she shook her head, and she couldn’t believe the audacity of him.

“Right, okay.”

He gave a sigh, tired. “Stop invalidating my feelings.”

His voice harbored just enough vulnerability for her to feel for him.

“You’re insecure about us, I get it. You were hurt, I understand. I didn’t want more when you did, I understand that too— but you weren’t the only one who got hurt in the end. It may have started out as a simple arrangement, but you know damn well things started changing months ago. I was showing you different sides of myself so that you would show the other, imperfect sides of you, but you never compromised with me. You wanted me to turn the lights off. You don’t even believe me when I say that I love you! Do you get how devastating it feels to tell someone that you love them and not only do they not feel the same way, they don’t even believe you could be capable of it?”

And she… she didn’t know what to say after that.

He was right, she supposed. She hadn’t considered his feelings in the matter.

“I do love you. I do. But if you think we’re a joke and we were never even real anyway, then fine.”

He’d started to distance himself, taking a few steps backwards from where she stood. She wanted to cry, but she didn’t want him to think she was trying to play victim— it was just what she did whenever she felt overwhelmed.

Y/N let him leave. Let him open the door and walk out, back to their friends, as she stood there alone. He was walking away from her.

And once the door closed, she burst into tears.

Her insecurities were mean, they were heavy on every part of her being right now.

She faced the front door leading outside and cried, trying to be as quiet as she could so nobody would hear her.

He did, though, or at least he had a feeling she was crying because he came back shortly after, almost like he’d been stood just outside regretting ever leaving. She could almost picture it, the door closing, their friends staring back at him with questioning glances— how he may have shut his eyes and released a deep breath before readying himself to get swallowed whole by the dramatics of it all over again. She was facing away from him, but her shoulders trembled in fear and he could kind of see her through the reflection of the door.

“Y/N.”

She shook her head.

“Y/N, turn around.” When she didn’t comply, Harry pulled her to the front of his chest, hesitant at first but becoming more confident as he felt her relax. His mouth was near her ear as he whispered, “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to make you cry.”

“Don’t, I’ve been horrible to you. And stupid.“

He shook his head. “It’s both of our faults.”

“I just… I always thought you wouldn’t like me as anything more than what we were and I wasn’t thinking.”

“I know,” he shushed her, pressing his lips to the side of her head and letting them linger there. “I know you didn’t mean to hurt me.”

He coaxed her around, never letting go.

“I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sorry too.”

She sniffled, “I forgive you.”

He chuckled against her forehead, his chest heaving against hers. Her lips were curling into a small smile as well. She couldn’t help but mirror him.

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way, I didn’t mean to… you know, say it like that in the middle of an argument. Shouldn’t have done that.”

She thought for a moment before settling on a subtle shrug. “Think I do though.”

He laughed, “you think?”

She moved to rest her chin on his chest, a glint in her wet eyes as she spoke, “if I say I know, will you date me for real?” She still sounded nervous.

His grin was wide. “I don’t know, don’t you think it’s a bit too soon for dating? I mean, I just told you I love you.”

The delight that sparked in her was all he’d been looking for. “I wouldn’t be surprised with how anti-relationships you are.”

Harry pinched her bum, rolling his eyes. “That was before I knew you think you may be in love me. Now I’m considering it.”

She looked extra cute because her eyes were still glossy and red, but she seemed happier, a smile completely molding her features. “Hm, well I guess I better know then.”

He leaned down enough to nudge her nose with his, “you probably should.”

“I love you,” she whispered, breath hitting his lips. “I know I do.”

He kissed her then, pulling her impossibly close. “Again,” he’d said, and she obeyed. He gave her two short kisses, mumbling, “again” over and over again until he had his fill.

He couldn’t resist the last finishing kiss, lasting just a few seconds longer than the other ones. “Let’s go home.”

—

the end!

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles concept #famous!harry #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n

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oswildin · 5 months

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Loki x Bestfriend!You Headcannons (He’s In Love With You)

A/N: Avenger!Loki AU, Avenger!You

You’re the first person he has ever felt he could just be himself around. There were no titles, no expectations, just Loki. It was freeing.

Loki always searches for you first whenever he hears the latest bit of gossip around the compound (yes, he most definitely is a gossiper, he just loves the drama, and if he can stir the pot, oh he will).

Quiet evenings with you. You force him to watch films with you, and he always grumbles and will consistently commentate through the whole thing, but secretly, he loves it. He loves being able to spend time with just you, away from everyone else.

He thinks he masks his feelings well, he’s known for deception after all, but no… It’s clear to everyone that the man is totally head over heels and would do anything (and I mean anything) for you. They have bets on how long it takes for him to finally tell you.

He didn’t realise what he felt at first, having never really felt romantic love before. Sure, he’d had fancies, but never anything… real.

It took him a long time to realise that yes, it was in fact ‘love’ he felt for you. The moment he realised was when you were both taking a stroll around the compound grounds, the sun was shining, the birds were singing, everything felt perfect. And then you turned to look at him, the sun sitting perfectly behind you, casting you in an almost ethereal glow.

It was then he felt his heart skip a beat, a flutter in his belly, his eyes widening a fraction at the sight of you. He felt sick and excited at the same time. Nervous yet comfortable. Scared yet peaceful. How was that even possible? Even for a God of his own contradictory nature, that all felt so contrasting.

“Loki? You good?” You’d raised a brow, giving him a strange look as he hadn’t said anything in a good ten seconds - which was rare for him.

“Hm?” Loki had blinked, clearing his throat. “I- uh, yeah, yes. Fine.” He had awkwardly told you, nodding, trying to regain composure.

How utterly cliche. Like a scene from one of those awful romantic films you made him suffer through.

Oh, how his gaze softens whenever you’re in the room. Almost like a lovesick puppy. If his past self could see him now, he would’ve called him ‘pathetic’ and tell him to ‘get a grip’.

But current Loki, he didn’t care. The way you made him feel was unlike anything he’d ever felt before.

Of course he had to fall for his best friend. It couldn’t have just been simple. Easy. But then again, of course he had to fall for his best friend… To even be considered his best friend, well, that was no easy feat.

He takes any reason to be ridiculously close to you. Cooking? You bet he’s standing right beside you at the stove, moving every time you move to grab a spice. Watching a film? Yeah, there’s plenty of space on the sofa, but on the other side of it he can’t make sure his arm is touching yours. Handing him something? Oh, he is practically grabbing your whole hand just to feel the tingle go up his arm.

There was one time he had overheard Natasha mentioning she was planning to set up a blind date for you. He had never interjected himself into a conversation so fast before.

“A blind date? How… tedious. Besides, doesn’t it seem counterintuitive? Going to meet someone you have never seen before? Don’t even know the name of? They could be a- a psychopath or a murderer, or worse yet utterly hideous and dull.”

Yeah, he handled that with his usual tactile diplomacy. (Sarcasm)

“That’s not how blind dates work, Loki.” Natasha told him with a smirk. “I know the candidate.”

“Oh, well that makes me feel a lot better.” Sarcasm, obviously.

Loki was extremely relieved when he found out you had turned down her offer.

“Babe, could you pass me the salt?” You’d once said.

Natasha AND Loki both reached for the salt.

You looked at Loki strangely. Natasha simply smirked. Loki looked extremely embarrassed. He didn’t even like the thought of being called ‘babe’. Well… At least not until you’d said it. Even if it wasn’t to him.

“I thought you said ‘hey’-“ Loki had tried to cover.

You got hurt on a mission? Even just a scratch? Oh, Loki is worrrrieeeddddd.

“Let me see.” He’d insist. “Loki, I’m fine-“ You’d try. “Yes, maybe so, but I’d like to be sure, you mortals are extremely fragile-“ He’d say with his usual dry humour.

He’d dress your wound, even if the med staff had done, he would always find something to critique, something that he could do better. All because he wanted to be the one to make sure you were okay, safe, looked after.

The sun is in your eyes? How dare it, utterly unacceptable, he would not have it. He would destroy it for such an offence. (Not really, but you get the idea).

“Loki, no-“ Tony had said. “Loki, yes-“ Loki had said. “Loki, no.” You had said. “Loki, no.” Loki had said. (Again, you get the idea).

He just found you… utterly comforting. Safe. You accepted him for him. Not the masks, just him. And he finally felt like he belonged. And he would be damned if he ever lost that. Whether he ever revealed how he felt or not…

Spoiler: He does, by accident. Slip of the tongue. What a tragedy for a God known for his silver-tongue, but it seemed even he had his slip-ups, his moments of humanness.

Another spoiler: Of course, you loved him too.

#loki #loki x reader #loki headcanons #loki imagine #loki laufesyon x reader #loki laufeyson #marvel loki #marvel x reader #mcu headcanons #loki x you

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acourtofwhatthefuck · 10 months

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Practice On Me — Part Fourteen — Azriel x Reader

Summary: Reader is readying herself for the ball. Hot Daddy Fin™️ opens up to her a little and shares some worrying truths (and then some). Azriel and Reader reunite, body and soul.

Word Count: 8.2k

Warnings: Adult content, 18+, NSFW, minors dni.

Tried my best with this part but sorry if it's a bit iffy! This girlie is ill as FUCK. Still hope you enjoy, tho, loves!

“You know, I have to admit, I was dubious at first.”

Mor is knelt at your feet, and you think this might be the closest you ever come to having a goddess on her knees before you. A strange part of you wants her to snap out and sink her teeth into your thigh, leave a bright red mark on the skin — but alas, her attention is fully on the hem of your gown.

“My uncle, love him though I do, is a calculated bastard.” She pushes to her feet, straightening out the fabric. “But I think he actually enjoys your company.”

“He does.” Roza pitches in from her place on the couch. “I know Fin. Y/N has him eating out of the palm of her hand.”

Though she smiles, her tone is laced with clear concern. Not because she cares about Fin, but because she cares about you. Doesn’t want you to forget that this is the High Lord of the Night Court you’re meddling with.

“Males are vapid and predictable, every last one of them.” You shrug your tense shoulders. “Throw them a few pretty smiles and they’ll do anything for you.”

Mor steps back, a low whistle leaving her. “Forget the males. I’ll do anything for you.”

Her eyes rake over your gown. So do Roza’s. And you…you want to crawl out of your skin and hide.

You’ve never owned a beautiful gown like this, never been able to afford one. The couple of dresses you do keep amongst your clothes are plain ones that just about do for special occasions. What hangs off your body now is…a work of art.

Almost feels like sacrilege for the beautiful fabric to touch your marred skin.

It’s sheer, showing off more than you’ve ever before dared to, and yet there’s a modesty, an elegance, to the many whorls and swirls made up entirely of little blue jewels and pearls and beads. It gives the gown a weight that makes it cling to you, and it outlines a body that…that quite frankly, you’d never considered beautiful until this very moment.

A body that commands the garment, and not the other way round. That makes you feel like far more than just another mistreated, unfavoured Illyrian female that will one day be lost to history.

This gown makes you think: I do not need the wings I have spent my life longing for.

It makes you think: There is nothing more beautiful than a good spirit and soul, and I have both.

It makes you think: Never again will anyone — friend or family or foe — make you feel less than worthy. Less than deserving. Less than strong.

You have always had strength. And this dress somehow amplifies it. Will amplify it to a room full of people who will see, through that sheer fabric, your scars, your lack of wings, and they may pity you, or not pity you at all, or may even laugh.

But you will still be beautiful.

Movement has you realising that tears have blurred your eyes. You swipe them away, and Mor is smiling at you, and Roza looks like she’s a little choked up, too.

“You are so godsdamned gorgeous.” Mor says earnestly. “Every last inch of you.”

Indeed, you glance over your shoulder at the mirror behind you, your gaze immediately finding your scars sitting brutal and undeniable beneath the sheer fabric. You don’t hurriedly force your gaze away like you have done your whole life, don’t try to avoid them.

You just…look. Look at what has been a part of you for so long, now.

“…Mor?” Roza says quietly. “Can you…give Y/N and I a moment?”

“Of course.” Mor agrees. “Time for me to find a snack.”

The stunning blonde squeezes your hand as she strolls past, and as she leaves the room, the door is pulled shut behind her.

Roza rises from her seat, making her way over to you. And as she stops before you, her hands move up to cup your face.

“Did you know,” she murmurs, “that I’ve always thought you were one of the prettiest females in all of Windhaven?” A soft scoff leaves you, but before you can glance down, she’s holding your face firmly. “I mean that — even when Azriel brought you to the cottage that very first time, and you were covered in dirt and mud, your hair all knotted, a leaf or two in there — you thanked me for feeding you, and you gave me a smile that was just like…sunshine. Such a rare thing in Windhaven. I remember thinking, this girl deserves to smile like that, always.”

A single tear spills down your cheek, and Roza wipes it away. She definitely looks like she might start bawling, too — a rare thing for her.

“I know you were never given much of a chance to feel worthy.” She whispers. “Your mother abandoning you…your father taking your wings…they were the two people who were supposed to love you more than anyone, and they broke you and left you broken.”

“You put me back together.” A lump in your throat fractures your words. “You and Rhys and Azriel and Cassian. Your love—”

“My little dove, you put yourself back together. We just loved you through it. I just want you to know that…I just want you to remember, the next time you feel worthless, that you are beautiful, and you have always been beautiful. You’re strong, and spirited, and determined. You have a resolve like no other I have ever seen, and you can do anything — which is why I know you will achieve whatever it is you’re planning with Fin.”

Only then does your gaze drop. “I only wish to appeal myself to him enough that he’ll value my opinion — that this Fenlaros business cannot go ahead. But I still feel awful…he’s your mate.”

“Gods, in the loosest definition, Y/N.” Her hands move to yours, then, liking them together. “Believe me when I say that if it weren’t for my children, I’d never see that male again. I think you know that I do not hold him in high regard.”

“I do know. But I respect you and care about you more than anyone in the world. And if you feel even a shred of discomfort about what I’m doing, I’ll stop. I’ll find another way—”

“The only discomfort I feel,” she squeezes your hands gently, “is at the thought of any harm coming to you. But I’ll feel that way through everything you do in life, because I love you. I also feel awe, because you’re brave and brilliant, and you’re doing what’s right. What I will teach this little girl,” she places your hands on her swollen belly, “to do — to stand up against what is wrong, and do so without a lick of shame.”

“I’ll protect her with my life, you know — the babe. I’ll love her unconditionally.”

“And she will love you, my dove, just as I do. So,” she steps back, eyes your dress again. A smile curves her lips. “Do whatever it is you have to do, Y/N, to change Fin’s mind — you have my full support. I only ask three things of you.”

Your expression softens. Anything — you’d do anything for her. “Of course, Roz.”

“First, don’t get caught with your scheming.” She says. “And second — you may feel like murdering Fin. Gods, believe me, I get it. But please do refrain. He’s my children’s father, after all, and Rhys isn’t ready to be High Lord just yet.”

You breathe a laugh, dipping your chin. “No murder. Got it. And the third thing?”

Roza steps up to you, her fingers finding the beautiful, jewelled material that clings to you like a second skin. She smiles.

“Go to that ball,” her fierce eyes meet yours, “and show everybody there that your father didn’t take one bit of beauty away from you.”

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

You pace the length of your room. Back and forth, back and forth. You’re restless tonight.

Day after day is swept behind you like the snow that blankets the mountains. Time is a racing thing. Starfall is fast approaching, and thus, so is the ball. But you still feel as though you can’t get a good read on Fin’s thoughts.

No matter how many dinners you share with him, how many walks through the city streets you take together, the shows you watch in the Rainbow…he does not offer you the candidness with which he spoke through that very first conversation in his study. Any attempts to talk about Tathaln, about Fenlaros, are promptly diverted. He wants to talk about you — wants to know you.

It feels like the opportunity to stop this shit show in its tracks is slipping through your fingers, and you can’t grab hold of it, pull it back.

So instead of sleeping, you think, and you pace, and you—

Gods, you just want to see Azriel.

How much space, you wonder, is enough space? You have respected his needs, have kept to Velaris, given him time to confront his innermost thoughts and feelings. But you don’t know how long he needs, and right now…right now, all you want is to see him. Look into his eyes. Hear that soft, quiet voice telling you that everything will be okay.

You need to know if he’s made a decision about Fenlaros. You’ve tried not to think about it, not to dwell on the possibility that he could choose to run from his feelings over embracing them. But the longer the silence stretches on…the more you find that hole in your heart gaping, threatening to swallow you whole.

You pace more and more, up and down in time to the ticking of the clock. It’s a wonder you haven’t worn a track through the carpet. You don’t know why you’re suddenly so antsy, but perhaps if you could just talk to Az, some of your worries could be allayed—

Before your thoughts can catch up with your body, you’re tearing through the drawers in the desk, scrambling for paper, a pen. Practically throw yourself into the chair. A letter — a letter will do the trick—

But you don’t know what to write.

You stare at the blank parchment like the words will simply appear by your willing. They don’t.

A love letter? No, no, not a love letter. Just a letter to…to remind him that you are still here. That you are reason to stay in Windhaven, and you think you could be reason enough.

Azriel… you picture him as you crawl his name. His honey-golden eyes and his silken hair. The sharp bone structure that could slice through paper, the full lips. The memory of how those lips feel is fading, and you want — need — it back. Your pen pauses, hovers at the parchment, and those lips are all you can think of, the urgency with which you crave them.

Azriel, you write again, I want to see you. I need you, too—

A soft knock lands on the door, and the pen clatters against the desk where you drop it.

The clock has just timed three in the morning — the knock is an unexpected obtrusion in the dead of night. One that makes you anxious.

But a second knock comes, and you shove the parchment and pen back into the drawer, scrambling to your feet. Perhaps it’s Roza — the more the pregnancy progresses, it’s not unusual for her to wake up in the night with need for something. You hurry over and tug it open.

Fin stands on the other side, looking…unkempt. His hair is mussed, like he’s been dragging his fingers through it. The first few buttons on his shirt have been undone, and a glimpse of a fine, chiselled chest peeks out. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. He looks as though he hasn’t been to bed.

He drinks in the sight of you in your nightgown, bathed in the room’s glow. He swallows. “Forgive me, I…I saw your light on. Thought you might be having trouble sleeping again.”

You incline your head. “I was.” You admit. “…And you?”

“Too much in my head to even attempt it.”

You’re not sure what to reply with, how to help. Fin watches you closely like…like he needs to. Like gazing at you brings him comfort.

You are treading a very, very dangerous path. But you shift on your feet and ask him, “Would you like to come in?”

A tiny nudge of a smile pulls one side of his mouth up. “I was actually wondering if you’d allow me to take you somewhere.”

Your eyes widen a little. The surprise isn’t for show, and it seems to please him. “Right now?”

“The City of Starlight doesn’t sleep. Ever.”

A fact you’ve learned all too well during your stay here. There’s always some sort of activity, something going on that sends a constant pulsing through the city streets. For some reason, you hadn’t imagined Fin to be a participant in the night life.

“It’s somewhere I go when I can’t sleep.” He explains, as though you’ve spoken your thoughts loud and clear. “I think you’d like it. And from one insomniac to another, I…I would be honoured to share it with you.”

How can you possibly say no to that? For all Fin is mysterious, for all he keeps his cards tightly pressed against his chest, you truly believe that he finds a strange sort of solidarity in this one affliction that burdens you both. You may have wildly different reasons for pacing your room at night — and you’re not sure he’ll ever tell you his — but when the world is too quiet and thoughts are too loud…there’s comfort in knowing that somebody else is staring down those early hours, also.

It almost makes him seem…normal.

And perhaps that’s why you offer him a dazzling smile that isn’t entirely disingenuous. “From one insomniac to another,” you say, “I’d love to come with you.

The way his eyes light up makes you wonder if you’ve played your role, appealed yourself to him, a little too well. “Then I’ll wait here while you get dressed.”

You incline your head. “I’ll just be a moment.”

He waits patiently as you change from your nightgown into warm clothes that will shield you from the freezing night air. With no indication of where you might be going, a sweater and breeches and boots seems like the safest bet. You sweep your hair out of your face and shrug the weariness from your bones. When you emerge from the room, Fin’s gaze traces you like you’ve donned an evening gown and not the thickest layers you could fine.

“I find you so very intriguing.” He comments unexpectedly, and you’re not sure what he means.

You plaster a smile on your face, all the same. “Where are we going, Lord of the Night?”

Heat stokes his hickory eyes, and he looks as though he’s actually trying to tamp down on a broad smile. “It’s a surprise.”

You hold a hand out. He takes it. “Then surprise me.”

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

“Tilt your head up.” The instruction comes from close behind you. Near enough that a warm breath tickles the back of your neck. You dutifully obey. “Now, open your eyes.”

Your eyelids flutter open slowly, cautiously. What you’re met with has your next breath catching in your throat.

A dome of starlight arcs high above you. The twinkling jewels in the sky feel almost close enough to reach out and touch, and they shine brilliantly through the glass roof, an occasional transient one cartwheeling its way past in pursuit of another place.

You can only stare. Gape. Your feet move forward a couple of steps, but your face remains tilted upwards.

You were in this building only a couple of evenings before, but it had been so packed, then, so filled with music and chatter and laughter and activity, that you hadn’t noticed what sat above your head. You’d been far too enamoured with the performers, their poetic verses and fluid dances, the tragic climax that had brought you to tears.

Now, the largest theatre in Velaris’s rainbow is empty and bathed in darkness, broken only by silvery moonlight. You and Fin are the only two here. And standing on the gargantuan stage, a mass of empty, folded seats staring back at you, you have the perfect view of the night sky that gives a performance all of its own above you.

There are soft footsteps, and Fin is also stepping forward, stopping at your side. “In over nine centuries, I’ve never tired of that sight,”

You shake your head, a little dazed. You’re lost for words. “I can see why.”

“There is so much unexpected, so much chaos and burden, in being High Lord. But no matter what I may face, what choices I make, and what reactions they receive…there will always be the night sky and its stars.”

Only then do you remove your gaze from the domed glass ceiling — to drink him in and wonder how many layers deep his true heart lies. This male who is as cunning and cruel as he is handsome and charming. How many dimensions does he have that you’ve never stopped to consider?

“I know it doesn’t exactly support the imagine of a calculated High Lord who shouldn’t be crossed.” Fin says, staring had at the surface of the stage whilst a wry smile graces his lips. “Sneaking off to an empty theatre in the dead of night when sleep evades me. But I find…peace here.”

You eye the ginormous building around you, dipped in shimmering moonlight and the shadows of twinkling stars. All those empty seats, the vacant orchestra pit, the stage that has trapped so many beautiful voices and words, guided so many dances and echoed so much beautiful music. There’s a haunting loneliness to the desolation. And you can’t help wondering if…if Fin relates to that, somehow.

When you snap out of your thoughts, you find he’s moved again. Now, he sits on the very edge of the stage, legs hanging down and palms bracing him. He stares out at the rows and rows of red velvet seats, not one of them disturbed by a spectator.

You’re moving before you tell yourself to. Sitting at his side and tucking your legs beneath you. You spend a short time in still silence, but the heaviness of the High Lord’s thoughts seems to spread to every corner of the building.

“When you brought me here the other night,” you angle yourself towards him, “it was my first time in a theatre — ever. I never saw a show before.”

A very slight frown pinches Fin’s features. He seems to consider that. “One of my flaws, Y/N, I have to admit, is that I often forget that there’s a world outside of my privilege. That people lack where I never will.” He tugs his bottom lip between his teeth. “Roza was right to take Rhysand to Windhaven. He’s grown with a humility that I very much do not have.”

You snort softly. “I spend a lot of time with your son, My Lord. I assure you he’s just as capable of arrogance. I’ve kicked his ass a good few times because of it.”

A quiet laugh rasps from him. “Somehow, I don’t doubt that.” He pauses, and then his elbow is gently nudging you. “I told you, anyway — it’s Fin. I consider us to be friends. Don’t you?”

In some ways, you really do. Ans what a lying, using, devious little friend you are.

Especially as you scoot closer to him. And you’re softening your features and staring openly at him.

You don’t miss the way his gaze falls to your lips.

“I do.” You say, and he lifts his eyes to yours again. “And as your friend, I’d like to know what weighs so heavily on your mind tonight.”

His mile falters. And you don’t want to lose him, to let the moment slip away from you. You quickly grab his hand before he can tense up.

“I want you to talk to me…” You make your voice soft as butter, sweet as honey. “I like talking to you, Fin.”

There’s a beat. A tense one. And then his body is loosening, relaxing, his eyes becoming infinitely warmer.

His hand wraps around yours, the pad of his thumb tracing your nail. “I like talking to you, too.” He admits, and pauses again. “…War is…a great likelihood, Y/N.”

It’s your turn to go still, then, to tense up. Icy cold surprise bolts through you. That…isn’t what you were expecting.

“War?” You breathe, your mind already conjuring images of your friends on a battlefield. “With whom? When?”

“I do not know when. It could be in a year’s time; it could be in a decade. That all depends on how long it takes for humans to rise up and rally against our kind.”

“Humans?”

“There has been more and more pushback, in recent years, from humans. Humans who are enslaved by our kind and are sick of it. More and more of them are beginning to stand up against it, to protest how they’re forced to live. They’re willing to go to war over it. I don’t know when or where, but they will. In years to come, they will.”

“As they should.” You sit up straight. Perhaps it’s the wrong thing to say, but you don’t care. “They should revolt. I think it’s barbarous, the way our kind treat them. Their purpose is not to serve us. They have just as much right to live freely as we do.”

You mean it, mean it with your whole heart. You know what it’s like to be used for somebody’s personal gain, what it’s like to have freedom always lurking just out of reach. And you’ve heard about the treatment of enslaved humans. Most would rather die that live under the cruelty of their fae masters. That the practice hasn’t been outlawed utterly sickens you.

Fin says nothing for a while. His hand continues to hold yours. His eyes drink you down with a muted intensity. Like this is the first time he’s ever really taken you in.

“I agree.” He murmurs, much to your surprise. “And when war comes — and it will, and I’m preparing for it — when war comes, I will fight alongside the humans. To liberate them.”

You look at him, then — a male who has lived for almost a millennia, but doesn’t look a day over forty. Who is so universally feared, who carries a reputation for things you can’t even bear to consider. You will not fool yourself into believing that the darkness hides an inner light, or that the cruelty is a front. He is not soft and he is not kind.

But perhaps he’s not totally bad, either. That he would put himself in the firing line for the liberation of innocent humans…it has to speak somewhat to his character.

It almost makes you regret your scheming, your manipulating.

Before you can muster a response, the High Lord is leaning closer. Your body tenses as his face stops inches away from yours.

“You need not be afraid of me, Y/N.” He whispers. “I find you…magnificent. I like that you don’t filter yourself in front of me, that you’re not afraid to speak your true thoughts and feelings. You…you are an asset. Worth so much more than you’ve ever been given credit for.”

Your gaze dips, cheeks burning at the compliment. “I don’t know about that—”

“I mean it.” His finger hooks under your chin, soothing the skin there. “Magnificent.” He repeats, and he’s leaning in closer, closer, until his lips are coasting your flushed cheek. The kiss he presses there is cold in contrast, but you have no chance to react as his mouth brushes its way to the shell of your ear and lingers there. “Absolutely brilliant. And do you know what?”

“…What?”

“After the ball is over,” his breath tickles your ear, “I’m going to bring you back here, to this stage. And those stars above our heads will watch as I strip you bare and fuck you hard enough to shake the building.”

It takes every morsel of your resolve not to start at the words. You release a shaky breath — one that makes you seem eager, responsive. It’s convincing enough that you don’t think you’d be out of place up here on this stage.

Thankfully, you don’t have to drag words from your spinning thoughts. Fin lets go, and he pulls back, rising to his feet.

“But until then,” he holds a hand out for you, “there is much to be done. Starting with you and I getting a good night’s sleep.”

You wear a mild smile as you allow him to pull you up. “A girl can dream.”

“And so can a High Lord.”

You don’t say much else to each other as he tugs you close and spirits you back to his palace. You are both pensive, and you are both tired.

But when he bids you goodnight outside your bedroom and strolls off to his own, sleep seems further away than ever. You’re thinking too much at once. Humans. War. Fin. Azriel.

You still desperately want to see Az, talk to him.

You dig back into the drawer, meaning to retrieve the letter you’d started to write.

But your hand merely knocks against wood, and the letter is gone.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

You’re tempted — to write another letter, or note, or…whatever. You don’t even know what became of the first, unfinished one, whether it made its way to Azriel or not.

But days pass, and you…you begin to lose your nerve a little. Perhaps it’s better to live in ignorance for as long as possible than know, either way, what Azriel is thinking. Choosing. Can’t help feeling that the more time pedals on without a word…the worse the outcome will be.

Distractions help. But tonight, it would seem, there are none. And it’s strange, because everything around you is bathed in luxury, in excellence, but you find yourself missing the stripped back simplicity of Windhaven. The crumbling cottages, the mead hall, the rough-and-tumble way of life. There’s always something happening in that harrowing place, something to keep you occupied. As you stare down an evening in a huge, mostly empty palace, you’re actually struck by your longing for it. Both Roza and Fin are busy. Mor is away. Only the mountains and the distant sounds of the city are your companions tonight.

And once again, your thoughts take you to Azriel.

You think maybe this need for him is getting out of hand. And maybe it’s just the sugar-sweet things that Fin has been speaking into your ear, the knowledge that deep down, there’s only one person you want to make such promises to you—

No. It’s not just that. Not just a pathetic influence of suggestive words. It’s a need.

You need Azriel.

Your closest friend. Your safety blanket. The male who saved you and brought you into the fold of a loving, supportive unit. You stared down awkward adolescence together, faced such trying times by each other’s sides.

And you need him.

Your heart, your body, your skin, is hot and heavy with it. Restless. Like the craving is pulling you apart from the inside.

You need to do something, anything, to occupy yourself; take a late-night stroll, read a book. Anything to stop you from staring at the ceiling and being eaten alive by the fire that scorches your veins.

You’re so desperate to get moving that you don’t bother to grab a jacket — just shove your feet into your shoes. A spring mildness has blanketed the city, anyway. You’ll be fine. You just need to move—

But you yank your bedroom door open, and Azriel is on the other side.

His beauty punches you straight in the gut.

He’s a vision, stood there in casual clothing, a note — your note — clutched in his hand. He takes in the sight of you just as hurriedly.

“What are you doing here,” you breathe.

He opens his mouth. Closes it. His eyes rove you again, and he swallows. “I got your note.” He answers. “I wanted to see you, too, and…the High Lord summoned Rhys, Cass and I here…to warn us to be on our best behaviour at the ball.”

You can’t say anything. Can’t speak. You just gawk like a godsdamned fool.

A strange concoction of a frown and a laugh comes from Az. “I…snuck away after…to come here—”

Before you even know what you’re doing, your hand is bunching in the front of Azriel’s shirt, and you’re dragging him into the room with all your strength. He looks bewildered as you shove the door shut behind him.

“Az, have you lost your mind?” You round on him. “If Fin knew you’d come to my room—”

“He isn’t here.” He cuts you off. “Cass went straight back to Windhaven, and Rhys knew I wanted to see you, so…he’s currently having quality family time with Roza and his father in the city.”

There’s a lot to unpack. But all your mind wants to zero in on is that one little sentence — Rhys knew I wanted to see you.

Pathetic, how your entire stomach flips.

“…You call him Fin?”

It takes a moment for your mind to catch up enough to understand Azriel’s question.

“We’ve been living under the same roof.” You shrug slowly. “I…guess he got tired of me using his title.”

Az stares at you, assessing. You’re not sure what he’s looking for, but you fidget under the intensity of his gaze.

“What is it?�� You ask him.

“I’m worried about you. I know he’s taking you to the ball. I don’t want you playing his games.”

You purse your lips. “…That why you snuck here to my room, Az? To give me a warning—”

“I came here because you said you wanted to see me, and I want to see you, too.”

So open — for him. So straightforward that for a beat, you’re not sure how to react.

But then you’re moving, and so is he, and your bodies slam together in a tight, long-awaited embrace. Feeling his arms wrap around you is…everything. Everything you’ve missed and longed for. Everything you will ever long for. Whatever happens…Azriel is the only thing you’ll need, when all is said and done.

And that’s why you’re suddenly crying, clinging to him.

On instinct, Azriel’s arms tighten around you. He moves a hand up to cradle the back of your head, and he whispers, “Y/N…”

“Please don’t leave Windhaven.” The words choke out of you. “Please, Az, just…don’t go to Fenlaros. Please—”

“Y/N. Look at me.”

Tears and all, you do. You remain as close to him as you possibly can as you lift your head to meet his eyes.

You don’t know how you know, but you do — from that one, heavy stare, you can tell that things have changed. That he has changed. He looks like the same, stunning male that you’ve always admired, but something else sits on his face.

Emotion.

Determination.

Fire.

He opens his mouth. Takes a slow, shuddering breath that you feel through every inch of your body. And then he says, with utter clarity, “I’m not going anywhere.”

You almost break all over again. But he keeps talking, keeps sharing.

“I love you. No — I’m in love with you. I love you more than I can put into words. I want you and only you, and I’m not leaving you. The only reason I would ever walk out of that camp is if you were by my side, and we were leaving together.”

You are…weightless. Boneless. Held up only by Azriel’s arms. A tear rolls down your cheek, and you allow it to fall to the carpet.

“My handling of my feelings,” Az stares down at you, “has been one huge fuck up. I loved you long before you offer to let me practice intimacy on you. Experiencing those things with you…the things you made me feel…only brought those feelings to the surface. And instead of facing them as I should have done, I hid behind Kaeda to avoid them. But it was never about Kaeda. It was always you. It will always be you. And I’m scared, Y/N, I’m fucking terrified. But I’m done running. Done hiding.”

Silence sweeps into the room on swift wings, and you are suddenly incapable of thought, and of somehow turning it into words. Without Azriel’s voice to distract you, you’re aware of the tremors that wrack through his body. As though this is the scariest thing in the world to him, and he’s trying to hold strong against it.

It probably is.

He studies you closely. Croaks out, “Please say something.”

And perhaps it’s giving him the wrong impression entirely, but you’re stepping out of his arms and putting space between you. You just…need to gather your thoughts. To remember how to speak.

“I…” You blink. “I handled it badly, too.”

“It doesn’t matter—”

“I made selfish choices. I…I acted out of jealousy because I wanted you, but you and Kaeda were…”

He shakes his head resolutely. “What I told you before was true. I never touched Kaeda like that. Even before I found out about all that Fenlaros shit, I think I knew that I wouldn’t. That I couldn’t.”

A fact that breaks your heart. Your eyes fill with tears again. “But I still did. Cass and I—”

“Cassian was there for you when I should have been, and I had no right — none — to react the way that I did. If anyone did anything wrong that night, it was me. But what you and Cass did…it does not matter. Not one bit.”

You’re pivoting on the spot, turning your back to him, before you can crumble entirely. He really means it. Really does not hate you for the choice you made, even though it hurt him.

“Y/N,” Az’s voice shakes behind you. “Please…look at me.”

Now you’re confronted with the situation, part of you wants to run — to hide.

But Az is being open. Honest. No matter how hard, how terrifying it is for him…he’s here. He’s trying.

And so you’ll try, too. And you think you might be shaking just as much as he is as you turn back to him.

The two of you stare at each other. Feel the situation out with your gazes alone.

Azriel is the one to break the extended silence.

“You said you need me.” He eyes you. He’s visibly trembling all over, and it has nothing to do with the chill in the room. Trembling like he’s trying to hold himself together against the weight of the situation.

“…Yes.” You swallow. “I do, Az…I think I’ve always needed you.”

“So show me.”

You pause. Blink, your eyes blown wide. “What?”

“Show me how you need me.” He steps closer, and though he’s shaking, he outreaches a hand and find yours. “Show me how to give you what you need.”

Your fingers brush his, and you’re forcing a lump down your throat. Drinking him in. He…he’s exquisite. “You mean…”

“I mean,” the gap is closed between your bodies, and his heat is reaching you, “I don’t want to practice. I want it all…everything…with you. I want you to take me. Only you—”

You’re surging forward with so much pent-up need that when your lips collide with Azriel’s, it almost knocks you both to the floor.

But Azriel’s arms are banding around you, and he’s a pillar against you, kissing you back with just as much heat.

You don’t know which of you makes what move. Your hands are all over him, and his are all over you, and he’s walking you backwards and groaning as the kiss deepens.

You find the hem of his tunic, dip your hands under, fingertips skating warm skin that shudders beneath your touch. “Can I take this off?” You murmur, and he swallows your words greedily.

“All of it — take it all.”

And so you do. There is no method to it. You’re a woman starved and crazed as you tear at his clothing, not caring about where it ends up, so long as it’s no longer on him. More and more tan skin is exposed, more muscles, more scars. And when he kicks out of his boots and breeches and his underwear is the only remaining barrier, you’re reaching for him, for the hardness that’s pushing through the dark grey fabric and taunting you.

But Azriel reaches out an arm to gently stop you. His hand brushes your cheek, and his eyes are pure hunger as he says, “Your turn.”

And it hits you just then that up in until this point, Azriel has never seen you naked — in this capacity, anyway. There have been plenty of non-sexual circumstances over the years in which you’ve gotten a glimpse of each other, but not like this. Even when he began practicing on you, you never took your clothes off.

And you’re fucking nervous. Even more so under the press of his gaze. He looks like he may combust as you slowly move your hands to your shirt and tug the front laces loose. You pull the hem out from where it was tucked into your breeches.

The fabric parts enough that it more or less slides off you and pools on the floor. You do not meet the heavy stare that watches you so closely. You may lose your nerve if you do.

But when the last few items of clothing are off and kicked away from you, and you’re left entirely bare, you hear a sharp intake of breath. Curiosity gets the better of you. You lift your gaze and resist the urge to fold your arms over your chest.

Azriel is staring at you like…like nobody ever has before.

Like you are the rare rays of sunlight that break through the grey landscape of Windhaven. Like the world around you was forged from your own two hands.

Like you’re beautiful, and worthy, and unruined.

“…What is it?” You clear your throat, shifting on the spot.

Azriel shakes out of a daze and takes a single step closer to you. “You are…” His throat bobs, “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”

You almost laugh. Almost. But something stops you.

The sincerity in his tone, his eyes. The realisation that he truly means that.

Your eyes travel from his face, down his sculpted chest and stomach. The firm, toned legs and what sits beneath him. You’ve seen plenty of his body naked. But…not all at once.

You think the air might be punched from your lungs.

He’s hard as a rock — from looking at you. The tip of his cock is already leaking moisture. His wings flare proudly at his back.

“So beautiful.” He cups your jaw, guiding your eyes back up to his.

There’s nothing else you can say, in that moment, than the words that tumble from your lips.

“I love you,” you whisper.

Emotion crosses his face, and both hands are gripping your cheeks. He kisses you deeply; so deeply that it steals your breath.

And then he pulls away, and he’s repeating his earlier words, his forehead pressed to yours. “Show me — show me what you need. No games, just…you and me.”

No games, indeed. You cannot wait any longer.

You rise on the tips of your toes and claim his mouth with yours, and you’re guiding him back, back, until his legs are hitting the bed and he’s gladly falling onto it. He sprawls out, watching as you climb over him. As your hand caresses his stomach and moves down.

And when your fingertips brush the head of his cock, a deep, delicious noises rumbles in his throat.

You mop the moisture up with your palm, using it to slick the length of him and slide your hand up and down. He hisses between his teeth, hips jerking, hands bunching within the covers on your bed.

“No games,” he repeats through gritted teeth. “This is about both of us.”

And you know that, and you’re not patient enough, anyway, for foreplay right now.

It dawns on you that there will plenty of time for that.

He is not leaving Windhaven — not leaving you.

You will have experiences together beyond this one night.

And with that very fact warming your heart and making it set to burst, you place your legs either side of his body and stare down at him. His cock brushes against your centre, and he can feel how wet you already are for him. His eyes travel down.

You watch, and you ask him, quietly, “You’re sure about this?”

His gaze flicks up immediately. “I’ve never been surer about anything in my life.” He reaches out a trembling hand and brushes a strand of hair out of your face. “That doesn’t mean I’m not nervous — gods, I really fucking am. So scared. I just…want to do it right. To be good for you.”

The sentiment almost brings tears to your eyes. “You couldn’t do it wrong if you tried, Az. Do you trust me?”

“With my whole heart.” He sits up a little — angles himself closer to you. “And I love you with my whole heart, too.”

And that’s all either of you need, isn’t it? Love and trust. The need that exits between you. Everything that is just…yours and Azriel’s relationship in its entirety.

Your eyes remain locked with his as you gently reach down and position his cock at your entrance. He breathes shakily. Doesn’t look away from you once.

Not as you slide down onto him just a little. You pause at the first feel of your walls stretching to accommodate him. A pleasured frown furrows his brow. A moment passes, two, and then you slide down further.

More and more. Sinking onto him. Pausing. Adjusting. With every inch of his huge length that disappears inside you, you feel like every one of your nerve endings is struck by lightning. Azriel’s head lolls back, and he makes a soft noise.

“You’re okay?” You check, hovering over him.

“You feel—” He chokes on his words. “Fuck.”

It’s the encouragement you need to sink the rest of the way onto him. The last few inches slide into you quick, thanks to the slickness that soaks your folds, and then he’s pushed into the hilt and hitting a spot so deep inside you that you can’t stifle the noise that breaks from your throat.

“Did I hurt you?” Azriel gasps, and you can only shake your head. He seems to study your face for confirmation, before he’s pushing up to kiss you.

And you kiss him back. For a moment, that’s all either of you do.

But when he’s losing himself in your mouth, his tongue dancing around yours, seemingly distracted by your kiss…only then do you lift your hips and sink down onto him again. And then you’re falling into a slow, steady rhythm.

Azriel is gasping again, his mouth moving from yours to press kisses to your jaw, your neck, your collarbones — your breasts. As you rock slowly against him, the walls of your pussy squeezing him, coaxing him, he buries his face into your chest and explores you, lips and tongue paying attention to your nipples, teeth grazing with a gentleness that’s almost heartbreaking.

“So beautiful.” He whispers, and the hands that are sitting on your hips travel up your back — up to the scars that live in the place of your stolen wings. “Gods, Y/N, you’re everything.”

You moan, rocking harder on him and wrapping your arms around his neck. You just…want to hold him to you, to feel him against you. It’s like it all comes crashing down on you that he very easily could have left.

But he didn’t. He won’t. He is here and so are you. He is yours and you are his.

“Talk to me,” you breathe, raking your nails down his arms. “Tell me how you feel.”

“So good — feels so good with you wrapped around me.”

“Yeah?�� You lean down, brush a kiss to his lips. “You like being inside me?”

“There is — fuck — there is no one, Y/N, that I want to do this with, besides you.” His mouth slants over yours, and he whispers two words — take me — before he’s giving himself to your kiss.

He’s so big, so deep. And the blood in your veins feels like molten lava as the pace picks up, as his trembling begins to subside, and he grows more confident. His groans are loud, and his hands roam over your body before finally landing on your hips. Fingertips dig into your flesh with a dizzying bite, and he’s rocking you, encouraging you to take him. To fuck him.

This is not practice. This is two bolts of lighting striking in the same place. The friction between your bodies is perfect, like nothing else you’ve ever felt. The pleasure may just finish you yet. It’s electric. Addictive. You want to feel like this forever, with him.

And more pleasure floods you as in one swift move, he flips you over — takes you entirely by surprise. You’re landing on your back, and he’s hovering over you. He stills as he stares down at you.

“This is perfect.” He says, dipping down to kiss you again. It makes him move inside you suddenly, and the different angle has you both gasping into each other’s mouths. “Gods.”

“Fuck me, Az.” You moan. “Just like that.”

What starts out slow quickly builds in pace. The roll of Azriel’s hips become thrusts — and the moans, the cries, the words that leave you, all guide them to be deeper, harder. You think you could stay like this forever, with him buried inside of you, wringing pleasure from every corner of your body. It snakes through your veins and zips up your spine, and when his hand travels down and his fingers find your clit, you fucking explode.

You cry out, bucking up from the bed as your orgasm hits you full force. Azriel fucks you through it, and his groans are growing louder, more desperate, as the walls of your cunt clench around him. He breathes out a fractured, desperate noise, leaning down to brush his lips over yours as he fucks into you harder.

“I can’t last much longer.” He chokes around his pleasure, pressing quick, nipping kisses to your mouth. “I can’t—”

“Come for me.” You gasp, locking your legs around his waist. “Come inside me.”

The noise that your words coax from him is downright sinful. He grabs your hips in his hands, slants his mouth over yours. He slams into you again, again, again, and then he’s roaring his pleasure with enough force to shake the bed, and you feel every rope of come that he spills into you.

You’re trembling. Or maybe that’s him. Or both of you. Both slick with sweat, and both shaking, and both unable to hold yourselves up any longer.

Azriel collapses beside you, his body still tangled with yours. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, his heavy breaths heating your skin. You sink a trembling hand into the strands of his hair.

“That was—” His voice hitches, “I can’t…can’t put it into words.”

Neither can you. It’s all you can do to nod as you catch your breath.

“Thank you.” A kiss is pressed against your neck. Another. Az’s arm drapes over your chest, and he moves his mouth to yours. “Thank you.”

Still void of words, you settle on kissing him. Deep. Slow. Unhurried. Your hand cups his cheek, and your tongue strokes into his mouth. Lays out a litany of sentiments that you’re currently incapable of verbalising.

It feels like you kiss each other forever. But then you’re pulling back, pressing your foreheads together. And you stare into Azriel’s eyes as you tell him once again, “I love you.”

Emotion floods his eyes, and he holds you as close to him as he possible can, murmuring onto your mouth, “I love you, too. I think I always have.”

You know you always have. You tuck yourself into his side, content to feel his skin against yours. The rest of the world floats away. There is nothing and no one but you and him. Your Azriel.

Your eyes are growing heavy when he brushes his lips against your forehead, and he whispers the words you’ve needed to hear for so, so long.

“Whatever happens, Y/N,” another kiss joins the first, “you and I will face it together.”

pom tags: @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @sirenpearldust @queercodedcharacter @azriels-shadowsinger @ruler-of-hades @demi03 @magicaldragonlady @abrielletargaryen @ralsieq @v3lv3tf0x @achase2002 @feyretopia @hayrunnwr @don’t-feed-the-hipsters @brekkershadowsinger @piceous21 @bloodicka @acourtofinkandpapyrus @riri-is-agirlie @siriusement @4valyries @socmono @azriels-mate123 @acourtofbatboydreams @katherinearcheron @nesemi @lupinswolfsbanes @dreaming-unafraid @dxnniiix @cyrygher @liddyr03 @lmllsl @nightless @teenageeggscissorslawyer @brighterthanlonelythoughts @blitz-fall @maybefoxysouls @mschanand1erbong @juiceboxreads @bangtanbecks @florencemtrash @hyemishii @obixix @thenovarose @meshellexplosionmurder @angzlxna @lissy31xoxo-blog @supernatural99 @positivewitch @art3-m1ss @milfhunter-pdx @bbuckysbeardd @coralseacourt @towhateverend87 @sspookz @bird-on-the-wire33 @morrie-rose @megwan @catscanteleport @sevikas-whore @thickthighs-sadeyes @hihelloitsbooktimeppl

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poppy-metal · 1 month

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And when he marries tashi and she notices your strangely close relationship together and one day walks in on art fucking his little sister, raw and hard and so obviously practiced, in their bed and decides instead of ending it with him right then and there to force you to keep fucking while she watches and degrades you both for being disgusting, dirty, pervert siblings what then. WHAT THEN.

ouuuuuu ill cum

shes definitely had her suspiciousens. I mean, the fact that you spend more time at their home than your own - the way you sit so close to art all the time in a way that reads intimate, the way you look at eachother. then there was the time art bought you a fucking diamond necklace - more expensive than the wedding ring he'd gotten tashi. she'd raised her eyebrow at it, and art had flushed and excused it as you being neglected by their parents at a young age, art was all you had - so he wanted you to feel special. she thought it was strange, but the let the excuse fly. she definitely knew you had romantic feelings for your brother - what she wasn't sure about is where art stood.

he was such a good person. would he really fuck his sister? cheat? he did have that hidden darkness to him he never let out around her but she was knew was there. was he aware of your feelings and just placating you by buying you expensive gifts and letting you remain close? or was there something more. something that made you feel like you had the right to stake claim over him - because you did so often.

it's not like you were outwardly rude to tashi - but you were definitely territorial of your brother. she remembered when she first started dating art and he'd been nervous for you two to meet. and she thought he was being silly but he looked so worried, said "she really matters to me, tash. and I want her to..... I don't know. I want you two to get along, is all." she'd looked at him, this nervous flushed boy who seemed to worship the ground she walked on, and better yet, who had so much untapped potential - all ready for her to weild.

"she'll like me, art." she told him and reached to take his hand. "I won't give her a choice."

and she hadn't.

despite how you glared and avoided being around her, purposely turning the other way when you saw her, she wiggled her way into your good graces. it was the first time she'd worked so hard for anything other than tennis, really. she felt proud the first time she made a genuine smile touch your lips. even prouder when you called her crying because some guy had been shitty to you on a date and you didn't want art to know about it. you'd cried on her lap while she spoon fed you ice cream.

then you'd said something peculiar.

"none of them are like him." whispered. more to yourself than to her - but she heard it anyway. brushed some sticky strands of hair from your tear stained cheek.

"like who, baby?"

you looked up at her - eyes watery and glazed over with fresh tears.

"like art."

you didn't say anything more to that and it left tashi wondering what you meant. she wondered for a long time, chalked it up to being about how you wished more guys were chivalrous or kind like art - not anything more - but the way you'd said it - coupled with the fact that she knew you'd had sex with this guy you'd gone out with and it hadn't gone well, not wanting art to know about it - she wondered.

and the thing is, she knows art loves her. she can feel it practically wafting off him in waves whenever he's close. he'd do anything for her. he bends to her will. worships at her alter. he loves her endlessly.

maybe that's why she doesn't feel betrayed or even grossed out when she catches you two fucking. she thinks if she felt threatened by your close relationship with eachother, or if you still despised her, or if art was a distant husband, she might feel those things - she might have screamed and yelled and cried and threw her wedding ring at arts head. demanded he pack up and leave right then.

but she doesn't feel those things.

when she comes home early and she hears it as she's toeing off her heels, she pauses - tilting her head to make sure it was what she thought.

moaning.

she doesn't know what she thought she might find - but she'd been strangley calm when she'd walked up the stairs, following the sounds of pleasure and the bed creaking -

the door made a sound when she opened it but it was drowned out by the sounds of skin slapping - flesh hitting flesh - the two bodies wrapped up in her marriage bed too engrossed in their lovemaking to have heard it.

she recognized the two of you immediately.

even though arts back was to her, she'd know those shoulders anyway - that head of hair - she knew how those hips moved when he was feeling especially passionate during sex - and even though she couldn't make out your face, as you were under him and obscured from view, she caught sight of the anklet she'd gotten you as a birthday present. dangling around one delicate foot as it was held aloft in the air by arts ears. he had you folded up, grunting as he fucked in and out of your obviously wet cunt -

her first thought was that doing it in your wedding bed was tacky.

her second was that this must be a common occurrence. art fucking you - the way your bodies met was too familiar. too intimate to be anything but a shared act you both did often with eachother.

her third thought was her realizing that she was turned on.

tashi had always admired your beauty - had felt a kind of possessive greed towards you herself that she shared with art. whenever you were seeing a man, something that continued to stay between just you and her, and now she knew why, she vetted them with such viciousness it could only be called jealousy. no one was good enough for you. or art.

you both belonged to her.

it was you that caught sight of her at the door. after tearing your lips away from your brother's to turn your face into the pillow, gasping his name as you arched under his thrusts, you opened your eyes, bleary and lust filled - and met hers across the room.

they widened in horror. your hands flying up to arts shoulders, fingers squeezing painfully enough that he halted his movements and panted a concerned - "what? am I hurting you?"

"art -" was all you could choke out, and he followed your gaze.

it was almost comical - the frenzy of everything. the flurry of limbs as you rushed to detangle from eachother. you sliding back up the bed, sheets pulled up to your chest, knees pulled up, refusing to meet tashis eyes. like a scorned child awaiting punishment. she bet you were seconds away from bursting into tears.

art fumbled for his clothes - but couldn't find them - and tashi wanted to snort when she pointed his boxers out to him and his face flushed with shame as he went to grab them, holding them in front of his half hard cock in guilt.

she had to admit he looked beautiful like this. flooded with remorse and guilt. his eyes red rimmed and pink lips wobbly as he stuttered out her name - tried to tell her it wasn't what it looked like, okay, fuck, that was a dumb thing to say, if she just listened he could explain - and to not be mad at his sister - it was all his fault - he's a horrible person - he's so fucking sorry - she was never meant to find out -

"so you were going to fuck behind my back for the rest of our lives?" she asks, curious. "or were you planning to elope?"

art shakes his head vigorously.

"no! no tashi I'd never leave you - it wasn't like that. I love you -"

she sees out of the corner of her eye how you flinch at that - curling in on yourself. you're definitely crying now. she wonders if art will stop, go to you, but he doesn't. he takes a step towards her - extends his hand -

"please believe me. I love you so fucking much. you don't deserve this - fuck, I'm so sorry. I'm so fucking sorry, tashi."

"I believe you." she tells him and she does.

he blinks at her. some tears drip down his cheeks. she realizes he's trembling. that the fear of her leaving him actually makes him shake. he looks like he might fold in on himself at any moment - small and fragile.

she feels something dark stir in her chest. her clit throbs.

"if I told you there was only one way to make it up to me, would you do it?"

he answers without hesitation.

"anything. fuck, baby. anything you want and I'll do it."

she smiles. serene. walks forward until she's standing in front of him and reaches forward to cup the back of his neck, his skin still hot and flushed from fucking you - his sister - she makes eye contact with you over his shoulder as she leans in and kisses him.

he sags against her. almost melts into the floor - his arms going around her waist as he groans against her lips, eagerly opening his mouth for her tongue.

so different from the dominant way he seemed to be pounding into you before.

you tremble as you watch tashi kiss your brother - your face a complicated mix of emotions. heartbreak, fear, anger, jealousy, hurt. all the things she should be feeling, she supposes.

and she knows with 100% certainty that if she wished it - if she layed down the law and said she wanted art to pick her over you, he'd do it.

that if she wanted art to fuck her right now - in front of you while you watched, he'd do that too.

a part of her almost wants to ask it of him. just to see it play out. but knowing is enough.

besides, making him choose would break him. he'd be hers, but he'd be broken and unfixable afterwards. drained of all life. useless to her.

and as much as she should be angry with you - sneaky little slut that you are, she doesn't actually want to eviscerate your heart like that by taking your brother from you. even she isn't that cruel.

there's something she wants more.

she steps back, cups arts cheek, brushes her lips against his.

"I want you to get back on our bed and finish fucking your sister."

art breathes in sharply. stiffens.

he looks at her like she's grown three heads. which is interesting since he's the sisterfucker here, not her.

"what?"

she steps back from him another step, another, and another, until her knees meet the lounge chair by her vanity - and she sinks down onto it, facing the bed. she parts her legs, her pencil skirt sliding up her toned thighs as she does. she's so fucking wet. her hand skims up her own leg.

"don't make me ask again." she tells him. "fuck your sister while I watch." wider, she spreads her legs, until her bare cunt is bare to you both. no panties. "you put on quite the fucking show earlier and now I want to get off - we'll talk about what's gonna happen after you make me cum."

she glares at art. dares him to push back.

he swallows. looks back at you for the first time since he'd seen tashi and becomes aware of the state your in, tear stained and curled up in the corner of their bed like a frightened animal. his features soften with obvious concern as he steps towards the bed, towards you.

he looks back again, to make sure and tashi nods at him - "like you were before. pretend I'm not here. I wanna see how my husband fucks his baby sister when I'm not around."

she has a feeling it's different than the way he fucks her. less controlled. less submissive.

her hand dissappears under her skirt when art kneels on the bed and gently wraps his fingers around your ankle, tugging you towards him.

you go willingly - shooting worried glances tashis way - clearly conflicted about what you should do - if you should try to flee.

art cups your cheek - tender - "look at me." he tells you, soft but firm.

your eyes immediately follow his command. so eager to take your big brothers orders.

tashi wonders how he'd react if he knew his loyal little sister has and is fucking other men - maybe another time. she wants to see how you two come together. this secret part of you both she hasn't been privy too -

you look at your brother with wide wet eyes and when he smooths your tears away with his thumb your voice trembles out of you - "d - do you hate me?"

tashis heart pinches a little - with guilt at making you feel so distressed. then she remembers you've been willingly fucking her husband behind her back and thinks you deserve a little stress.

"no. of course not." art tucks your hair behind your ear. "I could never hate you, sweetheart."

he leans in then. kisses you. and tashi bites her lip at the wrongness of it all - because it looks so right - and feels so good - she rubs her clit in tight little circles as you whimper into arts mouth, the sheet dropping from your hands and revealing your perky tits - already littered in his bite marks.

fuck. he eats you alive.

shes so wet - her fingers slide right inside her - she times it with arts first thrust back inside your willing cunt.

she wants to see better - but for right now, she remains quiet - she'll ask to see art fuck you up close so she can see your pussy as it splits open for your brother some other time - she wants to see how you fuck raw and real right now.

and it is different to how he fucks her. less careful - with tashi he lets her take the lead, even when he's on top and fucking her hard - he's still going at the pace he knows she likes best. with you, though - there's no thought behind it - it's almost selfish, the way he takes you - hips snapping yours into the bed.

but you love it. moaning and twisting your body under him in pleasure as you wrap your legs around him.

the bed goes back to creaking - and tashi fucks her fingers in and out fast at the pace art is fucking you - she can tell when he's close because his eyes fly to hers - though his hips don't stop -

"tashi - " he moans, and she knows immediately what he's asking.

"do you normally cum inside her?"

he curses - his hips stutter - but he nods - closing his eyes briefly in shame, looks like he's about to apologize but she's quick to interject, pumping her cunt faster at the thought -

her next command is to you, this time. not to art.

she says your name - and your eyes peel open and meet hers, something passing between you. she licks her lips as you shake under your brother, both of you watching her - waiting for her -

"tell him to cum inside you. make your perverted big brother fill your pussy all the way up like he always does."

she doesn't know why she likes this so much. perhaps it's the fact that you're both so fucked up - and instead of just one plaything, she now has two. it's like opening a bag and realizing they gave you an extra serving of fries.

you moan - lock your legs around arts waist. "please." you whine, voice breathless and pleading. art shudders above you, groaning. you must be squeezing him tightly with your pussy. "need my big brothers load in my - " you glance quickly at tashi, flushing, before you look back at art - "in my little princess pussy."

oh.

that definitely has an affect on art - he downright goes feral after you say it. hunches over you and slams his cock in and out as he burries his face in your neck - huffing and puffing as he gets close.

when he cums - tashi grinds her heel into her clit as her back arches, as you wind your body around arts to lock him inside you. all three of you finding euphoria in a way you never have before.

#ask #tw: incest #i fear i cooked a little #art donaldson smut #brother!art

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kurishiri · 1 month

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Ring and Nica bond level story summaries (up to level 4)

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ these are crude story summaries that are meant to give you an idea of what’s happening in the story. it’s not a pretty translation 😅 i don’t have darius here because i haven’t raised his bond level yet, but i may post about his bond stories later unless someone else posts translations? but if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but please don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

nica 🍒

bond level 3: “eating a meal together”

nika is like “relax a little more and lets enjoy dinner. todays a social gathering for vogel”

then hes like “did yk robin? they say you can tell someones char from the way they eat. if they eat quickly, theyre hasty and dont like losing. and the opposite means theyre more laid back. ..well, which do you think i am?”

"im in the middle of watching": nikas like "oh is that so? then feel free to look on more. ah, i can keep my clothes on, right?"

"ur a superficial person": nikas like "yep, i get told that a lot. i happen to reaaally like women - including you, ofc?"

"u dont enjoy ur life that much": nikas like "......hmm? so ur the type to like guys who r pitiful and unhappy?"

nikas like when we finish eating lets tell each other our answers then.

"come to my room, robin. we can get to know each other more there.."

bond level 4: skills

nika is like "sorry to keep you waiting robin. oh? why do you look so surprised? ahh did you think a fox (harrison) was coming or smth"

"the card that got sent to u, that was written by me. thats right, its forged handwriting"

"its one of my skills. did you enjoy it, robin?"

"absolutely not": nikas like "and as ive been sayinggg, hearing u say that is like the highest praise to me"

"bye (im leaving)": nikas like ehh ur going back already? even tho this part is known for not having many carriages around.

glare at him silently: nika is like oh, i like that frustrated look on ur face. im into that (<- this sentence is prolly not completely accurate)

then he’s all like "aww, you’re so mean. dont u think im here just bc i miss u (w/o an ulterior motive) 🥺"

"pfft, hahaha! u get touched so easily like that.. ahh ur such a strange one 😆"

"lets go, robin, and take me around london. lets see.. a place where theres a lot of girls would be great :]"

ring 💍

bond level 3: “eating a meal together”

ring is eating and finishes his portion quickly.

kate offers her portion: ring is like "noo you should eat ur portion"

when kate says there r seconds: ring is like "omg ur a genius :D"

"i'll give u my portion": ring is like "eh- ah. is.. it really ok? ..thank u then. i'll eat it all (i.e. with care)"

and then he says he didnt intend to get close to kate bc shes a fairytale keeper and hes part of vogel, but kate had been so kind to him so he became kinda like confused xD

bond level 4: skills

ring is naming flowers. and kate apparently caught him in 4k so he is all flustered like "omg.. dont tell me u.. saw all of that?"

"i didnt see anything": ring is like but theres a grin on ur face.. ur kind of bad at lying.

"..im sorry": ring is like "when you apologize so sincerely like that, i feel bad for being surprised.."

"well, i wonder abt that?": ring is like "d-dont grin like that >,> you have a teasing side to u too, huh.."

but anw he says that "yes i do like flowers :> when im free i try to remember the names of flowers and their meanings"

"why..? well that's.. to make frie- i mean, its nothing."

he asks kate to forget what she saw here and then is like "bye ttyl"

when hes like some distance away from her he whispers to himself that he shouldnt get close to the fairytale keeper.

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fanfictilltheend · 5 months

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❤️‍🔥Violent Heart Part 2: ♪Remember when I moved in you, and the holy dove was moving too ♫ (or the VERY DARK Stepdad!Mechanic!Covict!Joel x Afab!you one)❤️‍🔥

Hi I apologize that a lot of these reference pics are just of white girls. I tried to find "aesthetic" images that go with the story but so many of them are just of white people and I want to call myself out for this because in the fic's only descriptors are that she has hair and is AFAB -- nothing about race. I also realize that all of the girls in this are skinny too and Y/N's body type is never specified. Sorry fam!! These images are just to get the creative juices flowing and don't truly depict anything from the fic!!

A/n: It’s here!!!!!! 18+ Only. This took me 7 freaking months so you mofos better like, reblog, and comment. This is both my most and least personal fic I’ve ever written and it is dark and relies heavily on plot (smut this time tho!!) READ ALL OF THE TAGS DO NOT COME FOR ME UNLESS YOU DID THIS FR FR. This ones for my dark joel fangirlies(guys and NBies) and the daddy issues fam ily ❤️‍🔥 (also not me naming my fic in part after hallelujah by leonard cohen but there is a reason!!!!!!!!!!)

Summary: Part 2 picks up with Y/N at age 20 and how her relationship with Joel has changed and gets steamier. SMUT and feelings <3 Also check out this playlist of music that’s in the fic!!!!

Tags (PLEASE READ): Afab!you, pov change, Infidelity, threats, age gap, dressing Joel up (swear I wrote this before he wore that outfit to the SAG awards — the mr.Darcy-core one), racist comment (from Y/N’s douchey boyfriend), douchey boyfriend, confidence issues, feelings, voyeurism, masturbation (m and f), kissing, penis in vagina sex — unprotected (wear a condom), lightest hint of ass play, scar worship?? kinda??, daddy issues, daddy kink, using music lyrics to move the plot, multiple orgasms (m and f), religion and god discussions, stepcest (kinda bc technically he is divorced from her mother), tagging psuedo-incest just to be safe!!, use of y/n

Word Count: ~13k

PART 1

AO3 Link

Violent Heart Masterlist

Full Masterlist of all my work

If you’re being honest, you’ve always had a little crush on Joel Miller. How could you not have? The first day you’d met him had been like some kind of fucked up yet extremely satisfying whirlwind of a daydream. He’d come in, broad and tall and strong, and saved you from your evil (though you do love him somewhere deep, deep down) older brother’s onslaught. Protected you like a knight in shining armor from his punching, beating fists. Treated and touched you so tenderly, so many miles different from how your own father did that you’d been hit with whatever the pleasant opposite of whiplash is. And the way he finally punished Aiden after years of his reign of terror, the violence of it, the justice of it. You didn’t have words for it then, but the way you looked into Joel’s eyes when he was doling out that righteous punishment became some kind of strange secret understanding between the two of you. Maybe it was the first sign of love? You aren’t sure.

As a kid, he’d given you what you like to think of as quiet butterflies. They were always there when he spoke to you, looked at you, touched you, beat the shit out of your father and brother for you, but they were faint enough that you could ignore them. It was a comforting, fluttering kind of love, a gradual understanding of your loyalty to one another. But then puberty hit and the insects became incessantly loud when you thought of, wrote to, or talked to him. They ate at your heart day after day while Joel was in prison – the longing, the missing. Aiden told you that you were obsessed with him. Your mother told you to forget him, that he would forget you. But somehow, he didn’t. You wonder if those bugs live in him too. You wonder if they are quiet or loud and if they gnaw .

You think that they are probably loud. You think this for a few reasons. The first is that you know for a fact, you can feel it in the lining of your soul, and from the evidence of his constant correspondence and care for you, that he is just as obsessed with you as you are with him. The second reason is the fact that you think but aren’t one hundred percent sure is that the last time you’d hugged him he’d gotten a little hard (you don’t want to think too much into that because he is only a man who had been deprived of touch for a long time – but still you wonder…). And the third is the way he looks at you like you are the universe like you are the last drop of nectar and he is the last butterfly left on Earth in a famine.

That’s how he’s looking at you now in the passenger seat of his old, clunky pickup. You know that he wanted to drive, but you wanted to show him how well you could because he had never seen. Never had the chance to see how well you had fixed, maintained, and took care of his baby and of course he gave into you like he always does. He's smiling at you quietly, but his eyes contain multitudes. Right now mostly pride at your driving.

Joel is a bit different than how you remember sitting near him in the truck the last time you were together, him as a free man, you as a little girl. Somehow, even though you are obviously bigger now, he still seems massive and broad and stronger than ever. His biceps are huge – probably from all the time he had to work out in prison – and peeking out under his blue t-shirt that you brought for him, you think you see the outlines of some tattoos. You look a little closer. On his right arm is text in curvy black ink. You think it reads, “Sarah.” You smile softly at that. On his other arm is a strange orange shape that you have to squint at to understand. The edges of the object are jagged but they form a shape like a badge – and then you know what it is! It is the guitar pick you made for Joel as a child. The one that had pricked his finger and drawn blood and he stuck it in his wallet. You can’t articulate how honored you feel that Joel loved you enough to tattoo something you made for him on his body, permanently, forever.

“ Well , the light only turned green damn near eons ago,” he complains about your driving, but you know he is just teasing.

There is hardly anything wrong you can ever do in Joel’s eyes. He grins at you a bit lopsidedly and you smile back. You also can’t help but notice the greying of his brown hair. It’s a bit longer than it used to be too and the length gives it a little bit less of a shaggy look. You think it suits him, makes him look a bit older and more distinguished than when he first came into your life twelve years ago.

Objectively, you know it’s weird to think that your ex-stepdad who is a convicted felon is hot, but it’s just something you’ve always known and thought like that the sky is blue or that orange is your favorite color. You know it’s weird to think of someone who was? – is? – supposed to be a father figure to you that way, but it’s already second nature at this point. You’ve had a few boyfriends (luckily all of them had treated you right), but none of the feelings you’ve ever had for them have compared to the cosmic-sized love and affection you have for Joel and you’ve never known anything different. The years you spent longing, missing, loving, obsessing over, and aching for him in every way under the sun, can’t be healthy, you know this, but they have eclipsed practically every other relationship in your life. No one has ever made you feel as safe and protected and loved as Joel has. No one else has ever looked at you the way he does. No one else’s entire existence has revolved around you the way his has. The sheer devotion in his gaze is enough to make the butterflies inside you scream and beat their wings against your insides like hungry bats.

And you especially know you shouldn’t have these feelings about another human being violent enough to be capable of taking a life – inebriated or not. You’re grown now and know the man he killed was a scum-of-the-Earth child predator, and secretly you’ve always wondered if there was more to the story than Joel told the police in the official court transcripts you’d read as an adult, maybe even something to do with you since you had been there that day in the repair shop when they met , but you haven’t pressed because you’re sure the whole thing is quite traumatic for Joel and if he ever wants to tell you, you know he will. And more importantly, you don’t really care. Drunken, violent idiot or not, you were already deeply invested and never intended on wavering in that. You’re not sure there’s anything Joel could do to get you to stop loving him and that both terrifies and excites you.

“Okay, whatcha wanna eat?” you ask, reaching out to rub Joel’s shoulder gently. “Now that you’re free you can have whatever you want! On my mom’s credit card of course. Swear I won’t tell her.”

Joel grins.

“Deal,” he tells you. “I was thinking of a nice steak dinner.”

***

You pull into the fanciest restaurant you can find in the tri-state area and sit down to order a regal, all-American, full three-course steak dinner (though you’re both woefully underdressed – not that you care – though the host gives you a dirty look). All the while, you tell Joel about your major (psychology) and how you want to become a counselor for abused children.

“That’s sort of beautiful, sweetheart,” he tells you with a genuine smile that used to be so hard to coax from him, but now seems to float over to you so easily and gently like a kiss from something as soft as the wings of a butterfly. “Wanting to help defenseless children. You’re kinda like a guardian angel for them, ya know? Damn proud of ya! Also, these mashed potatoes are goddamn delectable!” he exclaims after taking an experimental bite. “Have I mentioned that prison food is shit?”

You smile bashfully and want to tell him that he is your guardian angel (you wonder if he thinks the same of you) and inspiration in a backward sort of way for wanting to help kids in the first place since he was so good at protecting you for the most part (though you obviously don’t believe violence is the correct answer in your line of future work). But kids need protectors. Somehow you know that deep down you forgive him for all of the violence he caused because you would forgive him for anything. And him being proud of you? You don’t think there’s a better feeling in the world than that! You burst with pride. Your real father never said that to you, but Joel doesn’t feel like your father now. He is something different entirely. Something that entirely belongs to you.

“And you’ll meet my boyfriend, Max, tomorrow,” you nod as Joel moves onto the steak and lets out a soft moan at how good it tastes. “He’s heard a lot about you.”

Joel’s face flattens.

“And who is this kid exactly?” he sneers a little, attacking the steak with his knife.

You smile internally at the obvious jealousy he’s trying to hide from his voice.

“Hey, Max is a decent guy!” you insist in his defense. “He’s pre-law. Real smart. He’s gonna be an important person someday, I know it. You’ll get on.”

That last part is a bit of a lie since you’re not sure the two will actually like each other.

Joel examines your face, looks deep into your eyes.

“All I know is, just because someone is important, don’t mean they’re good to you or for you for that matter.”

You can’t help but think of your father, the most “important” man you know and how much of a degenerate he is compared to someone ostensibly average like Joel who didn’t even have a status symbol like a college degree and how perfect of a man you think he is, despite his obvious flaws. You blush a little, scrunching up your nose.

“Just lookin’ out for you, sweetheart,” he continues, smiling at the way you do. “He ever fuck with you – he ever break your heart, you know just where to send him, alright?”

“Yeah, Joel,” you grin. “Don’t need you getting any more jail time though, alright?” “You may have made a valid point,” he concedes with a smirk.

***

When you two enter your shitty, one-bedroom apartment it’s already dark outside. Joel actually grins when he notices his and your guitars have both been mounted on the wall.

“We can play ‘em tomorrow,” you tell him excitedly. “If you want to, I mean…”

“Hell yeah, I do,” Joel smiles. “Wanna hear ya singing for me, honey. I missed that.”

You smile to yourself.

“You can have my bed, and I’ll take the couch,” you decide, getting back to business.

“No way, babygirl. I ain’t taking your bed.”

“Joel, you’ve literally been on a prison mattress for eight fucking years! Can’t imagine that’s been very comfortable.”

“That’s exactly why I won’t mind the couch. That’ll feel like heaven to me. Don’t want you messin’ up your back, sweetheart.”

You open your mouth, but Joel beats you.

“And that’s that,” he insists.

“Alright, alright,” you concede, knowing by the look on his face he’s not budging. If one thing, Joel has always been stubborn, but you like that about him. “D’you wanna watch a movie or something?”

“Actually, baby, if ya don’t mind, I’d like a quick shower. Been dreaming about taking a real, private one for ages.”

“Yeah, of course!” you nod, motioning toward your bathroom door. “Towels are under the sink.”

Joel makes his way inside and soon steam is billowing out the bottom of the door.

You busy yourself with some homework, but just as you walk past the door to grab a glass of water, you think you hear Joel singing.

You listen more closely over the fall of the running water and make out him singing the chorus of an old ABBA song with a deeper, sadder tone to it,

♪ “ Slipping through my fingers all the time / I try to capture every minute / The feeling in it / Slipping through my fingers all the time / Do I really see what's in her mind? / Each time I think I'm close to knowing / She keeps on growing / Slipping through my fingers all the time…” ♫

You feel like such a sap, but you feel a tear forming in your eye at the way Joel must be thinking about his and your relationship and everything he missed in your life. You aren’t mad at him, but his absence hurt in a way you didn’t know you could feel. And you’ve never blamed him, really, but the lack of him for eight years of milestones really did kill a piece of you. You can’t help but imagine a butterfly at the bottom of your stomach with its wings pulled off. That’s how you felt all that time without Joel – like a butterfly without wings. A writhing worm of a human being, senseless and lost in a giant world full of forces you couldn’t control.

You listen to Joel’s beautiful, deep voice until you hear him turn off the tap and you scurry away and act innocent.

Joel emerges from the bathroom then with nothing but a white towel around his waist, steam from the shower floating lazily into the room behind him like precession. And oh, wow, is he ever a sight to behold. His hair is wet, dark brown flecked with grey, and starting to get curly from the moisture. You also can’t help but notice his broad chest, the expanse of it, the dark curls of hair, his bulking, muscular tattooed arms, his soft, hairy tummy, the V-shape of muscle that descends beneath the towel, his happy trail. You are overwhelmed by the soaking beauty of him. You’d seen Joel shirtless before, sure, but it had never felt like this .

“Gon’ grab some of those clothes you bought for me and then maybe we could watch something?” Joel asks as you try so fucking hard not to stare at him.

“Sure!” you squeak, staring down at your notebook at the kitchen counter.

You think you see a smirk from Joel, but you're not sure because your gaze is averted as he grabs some clothes to change into and disappears back into the bathroom.

When he reemerges, dressed in a wifebeater and shorts that accentuate his form, you two sit next to each other on your cushy sofa and surf the TV for something to watch. You feel Joel’s hairy knees against your jean-clad one and your heart flutters.

“Can’t believe I’m really here,” Joel says softly as you pass re-runs of Full House, a dog show. “Like I gotta fuckin’ pinch myself to know it’s not a dream.”

Suddenly you feel a large, weathered hand on your cheek.

“Missed you so much, babygirl,” he murmurs, looking into your eyes, massaging the line of your jaw ever so lightly, trying to hold your skittish gaze. “More than I even have words for.”

First, you avoid looking at him a bit bashfully, but then you stare up cautiously into those big brown eyes that feel like a familiar kind of home and you’re such a goner. You lean into his warmth, the warmth of his hand.

“Missed you too, Joel. So much,” you admit, never wanting this moment to end or him to let go of you. “More than anything.”

He leans forward a little and for a second you think…but then he’s leaning in and planting a heavy kiss on your forehead. A kiss that has weight to it – not those soft, weak ones that Max gives you haphazardly when he’s drunk or high – the only time he’s brave enough to be vulnerable with you. This kiss says something, means it so sincerely too.

“Love you, honey,” he tells you. Then his face falls. “Sorry I…wasn’t quite there to say that to you enough in person.”

“It’s okay, Joel. I forgive you,” you insist. “I love you so much, dummy. More than you even know!”

But you truly do appreciate the sentiment.

***

You settle on an old, black and white classic, Paper Moon, that’s playing on the TV Land channel.

Joel wraps a big arm around you and you snuggle close. You’re pretty sure there isn’t a better feeling in the world than being this close to him. Even after all these years he still smells like Joel; like home (and, if you’re being honest, a bit like your vanilla shampoo) .

You lean against him, your cheek pressing into one of his firm pecs. You begin to feel sleepy, drunk on the steady sound of his heartbeat, alive and beating against you and really here .

You nod off.

***

At first, you don’t believe it, but you feel someone with strong, firm arms lifting you into the air, cradling your back and the insides of your knees in a bridal-style carry. The movement wakes you, but you don’t open your eyes because the safety and security you feel is too good to give up. Joel carries you to your bedroom and lays you down gently in your bed. You’re still in day clothes and shoes so Joel takes off your worn sneakers with a feather-light touch and places them at the foot of the bed – you can tell from the soft thumps it makes. He maneuvers you so tenderly under the covers and tucks you in with love and care. You wonder the last time someone did that for you and pull up a blank. If anyone ever did that for you it was probably Joel. Maybe your mom did when you were really young. Certainly your father nor Aiden ever did – your father hadn’t liked to touch you except out of anger – kind of like you had some kind of weird, contagious disease. Aiden’s hands had almost always hurt too, but not Joel’s – never his.

He breaks you from your thoughts by pressing another kiss to your forehead. Your eyes are still closed so you aren’t sure, but you think he watches you for a second and lets out a long sigh.

Then you hear your bedroom door close softly so as not to disturb you. You smile, you can’t help it, and drift back off into a peaceful sleep.

***

You wake up to a mumbling, grunting sort of sound. You look over at your clock and read 3:42 a.m. You sit up. You can kind of hear some muffled noises coming from outside your room. At first, you feel a little concerned – like maybe Joel is in pain or something as he is the only one who could be making the noises. The walls in your apartment are paper-thin. Like you could hear him sneeze clear as day if he were to because sound travels through the shitty walls so easily. You should have told him that. But what the fuck is he doing up at 3 a.m.?

You creep (and you mean creep) silently to the door of your bedroom and open it the tiniest crack. The way your apartment is laid out, the back of the sofa is the first thing you see and the back of Joel’s head about six feet away. He doesn’t sound in pain the way he’s groaning and then you understand exactly what he’s doing. Of course the man is jerking off! After being in prison, stuck around people for so long of course he wanted a good, private wank. He isn’t looking at anything from what you can tell, no magazines or anything. Must be using his imagination. You wonder what he’s thinking about, if he’s gotten good at that over the years.

You should turn around, slink back into bed, and cover your ears with a pillow so the man can have some privacy. But, fuck, the way he’s grunting. His voice is so fucking deep and sexy and then he lets out a soft, vulnerable moan and you feel heat envelope your whole body. You think you hear a soft fuck roll off his tongue and your heart almost beats right out of your chest. You can hear the lewd slapping of his fist on skin getting louder and more intense. Then you hear a soft take it, fuck. And Jesus, you are so fucking wet between your thighs. You ought to be ashamed. Instead, you reach down your hand feverishly beneath the band of your jeans and soaking underwear instinctively to stroke yourself ever so slightly. You sigh in relief, but you are fucking gushing, your fingers covered in your slick. You can’t see anything besides the back of Joel’s head, technically, so this couldn’t be that wrong, could it? He lets out a soft groan, you can tell he’s holding back so as not to be heard, but the desperation in the pathetic little noises this hulking man is making is turning on every switch inside you. Oh how you want to go over there and take him in your mouth, to taste him. God you are so fucked up! You’re still touching yourself gently, not really fully going at it yet, considering the possibilities that could follow if you went over there. But before you can decide to do anything, Joel positively whines, moans, and grunts fuck, unh, and you think but aren’t sure, babygirl, and finishes.

You stop dead still in what you’re doing. Did he really say “babygirl” or was that just your horny-ass imagination playing tricks on you? You’ve never heard Joel call anyone babygirl except you. Was he really thinking of you? On the one hand, if true, mega fucked up. On the other, wow, incredibly hot. You think about going over there and asking him to finish you off or something as crazy as in all those dumb romance novels you used to read in middle school, but just as quickly as the idea comes to you, you hear another noise: loud snoring. Joel is asleep.

Typical.

You snort to yourself. That was so quintessentially Joel. You don’t want to disturb him now. The moment has passed. And only then is when you remember you have a fucking boyfriend.

That doesn’t stop you from closing your door softly, crawling back into bed, and reaching your hand down beneath your panties to touch yourself. You stroke your clit, imagining it is Joel’s rough hand rubbing against you. Holy fuck. You haven’t been this wet since you used to touch yourself thinking about him in the past. It’s like he can reach every part of you, every layer in a way that no one else can. You know the whole thing is so fundamentally fucked up, but you can resist sinking into your favorite fantasy. The smell, the touch, the feel of him. You imagine the noises he was making so beautifully on the couch, feel heat coil through your entire body, and immediately cum hard without even sticking a finger inside yourself.

The pleasure you feel is so unparalleled and real you have to cover your hand with your mouth not to scream out your powerful orgasm.

Sweat drenches your whole body as you come down.

God, you are so fucked.

***

The next morning you wake up to the wafting smell of someone cooking eggs. You emerge from your room a little sheepishly from last night’s events to find Joel behind the kitchen counter making eggs and toast.

“Mornin’, babygirl,” he grins, his eyes shining like he’s excited about something.

And then you realize: that something is you.

You grin back.

“Good morning, Joel,” you beam at him.

You were so afraid things would feel awkward after what you heard last night, but nothing ever feels awkward with Joel. In some ways, he’s still just your average dorky, friendly old ex-stepdad, convicted felon. In other ways, everything about him sets your heart on fire, but it would be stupid to ruin what you have with him because you think it’s remotely possible he might be interested back. You know this is dramatic, but if he flat-out rejected you, you think you might die. Truly. Like those butterflies inside you would beat their wings so hard they’d burst your heart.

“‘Membered you liked ‘em poached,” he nods, breaking you from your thoughts.

He scoops two poached eggs onto one of your plates and grabs a piece of toast from the toaster which he smears with butter like how you used to eat toast as a kid. You can’t believe he remembered.

“Thanks so much,” you tell him.

He grabs a few eggs and toast for himself and sits beside you at the counter.

“Nice to be able to cook me ‘n you some real food,” he remarks. “If I eat one more cup o’ noodles in my lifetime I swear to God Almighty…” he trais off.

He’s looking at you like you put the goddamned sun in the sky. Your heart melts as you stare at his features, the faint curls in his hair. Oh, how you want to reach out and touch him. But that just isn’t how you operate. You won’t ruin what you already have.

The butterflies in your chest howl.

***

` You lay out the day’s schedule to Joel. You have plenty of time to hang about (you see him eyeing the guitars), and then you need to go shopping for some actual clothes for Joel since the things you brought for him don’t constitute a proper wardrobe. Then you will go out to dinner and meet Max.

Joel grunts a nod at that last part. He doesn’t seem too thrilled.

“Wanna show me what you’ve been playing?” he asks hopefully as he gets up to put both of your plates in the sink,

“‘Course!” you nod enthusiastically. “Max says I need to work on my fingerpicking so I can’t promise it’ll be all that good.”

Joel rolls his eyes.

“Show me what you’ve got.”

***

You sit down on the couch right next to Joel, each of you holding your respective guitars in hand, across your laps.

Joel looks ecstatic to have his guitar back in his hands. He fiddles with the tuning and finger-picks a faint melody.

“Haven’t played one since the prison band. But then some dumb motherfucker clobbered another sorry son of a bitch to death with a saxophone so that ended our music privileges,” Joel explains.

“Jeez,” you reply.

Joel is sitting so close you can feel his body heat. You just want to hear him sing, but he insists on hearing you.

“Joel,” you try as innocently as possible. “D’you remember how to do an A-flat? I forget and I need it for my song.”

“Sure, baby. Lemme help ya. Now put one finger on this bit of the 4th fret here,” he begins, snaking a big arm around your shoulders so he can maneuver your fingers to the correct position.

His touch is electric. He feels so good and warm. You feel the intense urge to climb into his lap and embrace and stay there forever. His big caloused hand full of scars places your fingers correctly for the chord. The same hand that must have jerked himself to completion last night…You can’t help but wonder how much cum there was…The truth is, you know how to make an A-flat. You just wanted to feel him.

He backs away and you whine internally at the loss.

“There we go,” he says soothingly, reaching out to rub your shoulder. “That one can be tricky. Now where is my performance?”

Your nerves are squirming around inside you but you begin to play and sing to the best of your ability.

You look into Joel’s eyes.

♪“ You've got a heart on fire / It's bursting with desire / You've got a heart filled with passion / Will you let it burn for hate or compassion?” ♫ you sing.

Joel watches you intently, sitting up straighter.

♪ “What's the point with a love / That makes you hate and kill for? ♪

You sing as best and as seriously as you can. You look up and think you maybe see a tear in Joel’s eye.

When you finish, it’s clear Joel is finding it hard to select the right words to convey what he’s feeling.

“I–” he tries. “That was…well, let me just show you how I can answer that if anyone ever could to a performance as beautiful as that.”

You blush.

He begins to finger-pick a familiar tune, Instantly, you are transported back to eight years old in the back of Joel’s old pickup truck, listening to one of his many cassette tapes. It’s “I’ll Never Find Another You” by The Seekers. The original version of the song is pretty happy and upbeat, but the way Joel sings it slowly in his deep and weathered voice makes you feel sad and achy inside. The emotion behind his voice is palpable.

♪ “But if I should lose your love, dear / I don't know what I'd do / For I know I'll never find another you / Another you / Another you…” ♫ he trails off.

It’s your turn to tear up a little. It’s crazy to know he means every word he’s singing too. He sings like every word is his last breath. When he finishes you are crying a little.

“You oughta record an album,” you sniffle, leaning into his shoulder, throwing him a side hug.

“Wanted to be a singer,” he replies with a small grin, leaning his head against yours. “Back when I was young.”

You sit back up straight.

“You did? I never knew that.”

“Don’t tell nobody really,” Joel replies, looking a bit sad you left his immediate proximity. “Just a stupid dream ‘n all that crap.”

“‘S not stupid,” you tell him. “You really have a beautiful voice, Joel. It’s like if I could take it, hold on to it, and keep it forever in my chest pocket next to my heart, I would.”

“That’s where I keep you, baby,” he tells you honestly.

He reaches up a big hand to yours and guides your own to place it right on his heart over his plaid shirt. You can feel it beating steadily below your palm to the rhythm of something as delicate and ferocious as the beating of butterfly wings.

“Right here.”

***

You take Joel shopping. At his insistence it is nothing fancy, just the local department store. That doesn’t stop you from dressing Joel up in ridiculous outfits of your choosing. You make him try on a Hawaiian shirt, some golf polos like your dad liked to wear, a pinstripe suit and he lets you because saying no to you has never been in his vocabulary. He acts grumpy on the outside, but you can tell he is amused. You know in the end, you’ll just end up buying every flannel shirt and jeans combo they have in the store, but it’s just fun anyway. You watch the fabric hug his torso, his tummy, the slight bulge at his waist. At one point he comes out shirtless and you try very hard not to swoon as you stare at the hair lining his chest and his adorable little tummy that you for some reason have the urge to bite. The band of his Hanes boxers sticks up past his jeans and he looks so good. He even lets out a genuine smile. The middle-aged sales attendant who is helping you even takes a good look at him which makes the butterflies inside you swarm possessively.

Finally, you make him try on a proper white-collared button-down shirt and black dress pants with matching black shoes and he looks so good you’re actually at a loss for words when he asks you what you think. They hug the curves and lines and planes of his body so nicely. All you can do is ask him to put on a black tie to match and he does at your behest following some customary griping that he would never wear such a monkey suit in the first place. The effect that a fully dressed-up Joel has on you is not one to be reckoned with. He might as well be wearing the men’s version of lingerie for how it makes you throb and ache between your legs. He looks like a force of nature, commanding and tall. It makes you weak. All you say is,

“Looking good, old-timer.”

He snorts.

When you finally ditch all the fun clothes and grab the essentials, Joel offers to go pick up the car while you pay. He tries to give you his eight-year-old credit card, but you insist on treating him on the condition he buys the “monkey suit.” After a bit of prodding, he gives in and you go to the sales attendant to pay at the counter.

“Your dad is really cute,” the sales attendant giggles to you as she rings up the pile of clothes.

Your cheeks go a bit red. You don’t really care enough to correct her.

“He’s my guy,” is all you say absentmindedly as you fish out your wallet from your purse.

The sales attendant hands you the receipt and on it, you see a scrawled phone number.

“For If he’s single,” she explains. “I’m Barb from sales.”

You look her over. She’s close to Joel’s age and conventionally pretty with long brown hair. The exact kind of woman Joel should be dating should he choose to get back in the game. Your stomach twists and the butterflies howl inside you.

You take the receipt, thank her, and join Joel back in the car (who is more than happy to be driving this time).

“What took so long?” he asks casually. “You two writing a novel in there?”

You think seriously about what you should do. You consider letting the bugs have their way and tearing the receipt with Barb’s number on it to shreds. But you want good things for Joel. The chance of you two ever being together the way you wish is so far-fetched that you know you shouldn’t even be thinking it. A literal pipe dream. He was your stepdad for christsakes. He literally fucked your mother! (Gross!). Barb is exactly the kind of woman Joel should be going after if he’s up to dating right now. You hand him the receipt begrudgingly.

“Sales Lady likes you,” you sat flatly. “Name is Barb.”

“Oh,” he says softly like he’s a bit flattered.

He looks back at her through the glass door of the store and she waves at him. He waves back politely. You feel your stomach twisting into knots.

“You think…you think you’re gonna call her?” you finally ask as casually as humanly possible, dreading the answer.

Joel looks over at you, his gaze sweeping over you. Then looks back at Barb through the window. He looks her up and down.

“Nah,” he says with a smirk, looking back at you. “She ain’t my type. Only need one girl in my life right now anyways,” he winks.

Was that Joel flirting? With you?

Regardless, you smile back and then sigh in relief and grin to yourself as you two drive away.

Much to your satisfaction, Joel crumples up the receipt and throws it out the window for good measure.

***

You get ready for dinner, to go to a nice Mexican-Japanese fusion restaurant that Max picked out. You wear a red dress that accentuates your figure and matching heels and to your shock, Joel reemerges from the bathroom in the white button-down shirt and black dress pants you picked out for him (you had been sure flannel would be part of his ensemble). God, he looks good. A part of you wants to ditch Max and just stay here with Joel forever. He looks you over, his dark eyes sweeping over your frame. You think there is a tinge of possessiveness in his voice when he says,

“ Christ, you look beautiful, babygirl.”

***

You arrive before Max and sit down at the fancy white table-cloth-covered table next to Joel, a booth facing you. Max finally makes an appearance a half hour late and sits down across from you, sweeping his hair out of his face, sliding into the booth. Joel is frowning and the butterflies beat their wings inside you nervously.

“Sorry I’m late,” Max announces, puffing out his chest a little and smoothing out his collared shirt as he looks down at his watch and then over at Joel. “Hey, baby,” he says to you. Then, “And, uh, nice to meet you. Joe, was it? Heard a lot about you.”

“Joel,” Joel replies flatly, eyeing Max.

Max is a good-looking guy, everyone says so, but he looks more like a little boy than you’ve ever thought as he squirms uneasily in his seat under Joel’s unrelenting gaze and launches into a tirade about his frat’s inter-mural lacrosse team practice and how his team should have totally won the scrimmage and that’s why he’s late. And of course, he was the one to score the most goals.

“And the taxi cab driver was a nightmare. Only spoke Spanish. It’s like, if you come to this country speak fucking English, am I right?”

You notice Joel’s jaw tighten and his fingers clench.

“Max, that’s so rude!” you tell him, frowning. “We’re at a fucking Mexican restaurant!”

“Anyway,” Max continues, rolling his eyes at the interruption like he barely even heard you, smirking. “Where’d you go to school? What do you do for work, Joel? Besides making license plates, I mean. Kidding!” he insists as you stare daggers at him.

Joel leans forward ever so slightly but you slip your leg over his to hold him back and he calms down a fraction. It’s like when you touch him, everything tense in him melts away.

Joel sits up straighter in his chair and looks at you, stretching his arm across the back of your seat protectively like it’s a casual thing and not an unconscious sign of possessiveness.

“I’m a mechanic,” he grunts unceremoniously to Max. “I mean, I was anyways…Didn’t go to school.”

Max frowns ever so slightly.

“You didn’t go to college? You must’ve gone to trade school at least?”

“Nope. Picked up what I know over the years. Not everyone gets a free ride from their parents,” Joel smirks.

“Free ride?” Max snaps. “I’ll have you know I spend every summer interning at a law firm!”

“Yeah, your dad’s,” you can’t help but snicker.

Max’s cheeks turn a bit pink.

“At least I’m not a psych major,” he shoots back. “I mean, no offense, babe!”

“What’s wrong with psychology?” Joel snarls, his eyes darkening. “You ought to be proud to have such a thoughtful and intelligent girl like Y/N studying such a topic.”

It’s your turn for your cheeks to go pink.

“Joel–”

“Who said I wasn’t?” Max sneers.

That makes you feel a bit better.

“I’m just saying, she could have inherited the second-best law firm in the tri-state area from her pops if she was pre-law like me,” he smirks.

Your smile fades, used to hearing this kind of shit from him. He knows you and your father don’t get along at all, but not the full extent of it. He also knows you don’t have an interest in pre-law. But you swallow down how you really feel.

“It’s fine, Joel,” you tell him, placing a hand down on his thigh.

It’s not that you enjoy the way Max has been talking to you, but you are so used to it from the men in your life that it feels like the common denominator must be you. And sometimes it feels like maybe they have some kind of point. And fighting back only makes things worse. You’ve learned that over the years the hard way.

“It’s not fine!” he snaps like he’s trying to get you to see sense, looking deeply insulted on your behalf. Your heart thunders in your chest. “This boy has never worked an honest day in his life and he’s telling you what you ought to be doing? Bet his hands are soft as a baby’s ass. He doesn’t know shit about you, babygirl.”

You may not know the hardship of labor that Joel has taken on in his life, but your hands are not smooth. They are full of scars. And Joel is right. Max’s are soft like silk. You look down at the most prominent, ugly scar on your middle finger. You don’t even know which man in your life gave it to you. But you do know it means something. Shows you survived something. Survived your stupid father too, not that Max seems to care.

But Max never loses.

“Whatever,” he smirks dismissively. “Sorry I’m not some, like, common blue-collar worker. But I guess I should be taking advice from someone who became a fucking convicted felon ‘cause they drank too much one night,” he shrugs with a terrible sneer.

You know it’s over then.

But Joel surprises you. Doesn’t immediately strangle Max like you thought he might. Simply stands up tall and silent over Max’s frame which has suddenly begun to shake ever so slightly in obvious fear, his blue eyes widening. Joel’s fists are clenched tightly at his sides.

“Wouldn’t mind them sendin’ me right back in, ” Joel growls low. “Drunk or not.”

You shiver and Max positively cowers.

“Got something to say? Don’t wanna take it outside?” Joel leers, smirking ever so slightly at the trembling boy before him. “I’d even let a little boy like you take the first swing.”

“Your stepdad’s a freak, Y/N,” Max stammers, not taking his eyes off of Joel.

“Joel, it’s fine, okay?” you growl, not wanting him to actually hurt your boyfriend. Let alone in public! “Shouldn’t talk about Joel like that though, Max! Jesus!”

“Babe, I’m sorry, okay?” Max tries, eyeing back and forth between you and Joel. “I’m just trying to look out for you. I don’t get what you see in him with a real Dad like yours! Your dad has so much to give you!”

Look out for you? So much to give you? What could he possibly give besides a stupid law firm and two black eyes?

Max looks a bit desperate. Him apologizing for anything is actually a new concept for you. Your heart twitches ever so slightly. He must actually like you a lot. But Joel would never do anything to hurt you if it was in his power. At least not intentionally, unlike your real father.

“That’s it. I’m leaving,” Joel snarls moodily, turning around. “Don’t want to do things I might regret to Mr.Future-Corporate-Lawyer over here. Have fun with him .”

Joel looks deeply hurt. Like you are choosing Max over him or something. That’s never what this has been about, has it? Doesn’t Joel know you’d do anything for him? That the hurt on his face hurts you more than anything you’ve ever felt. Ever.

“Joel, wait!” you decide and disappear after him, leaving Max behind at the table.

“Babe, what the fuck!?” Max yells, but you don’t care. “Come back here!”

***

You ride back in silence, Joel’s hands turning white against his grip on the steering wheel.

When you break through to the front door of your apartment, Joel finally snaps, the anger on his face directed at something that feels like you for the first time in your life.

“You really love that little son of a bitch, don’t you?” he sneers, uncharacteristically harshly towards you.

“So what if I did?” you shoot back, a little shocked. “It’s none of your business, Joel. What the fuck?”

“It is so my business,” he snaps back. “That kid is no good for you, Y/N. He doesn’t understand you. You deserve someone much better than that who will actually go to the ends of the earth for you. He wouldn’t do anything for you.”

There is a desperation and vulnerability in Joel’s words and tone that you’re not sure you’ve heard before. He sounds like he had been waiting the whole car ride to say this, maybe even his whole life. You aren’t sure.

“Max does give a shit about me,” you try to convince yourself, getting angrier. “I mean at least he was there for me while you were gone.”

Joel flinches.

“How do you know what’s so good for me and what’s not when you dipped out of my life for eight years?” you continue harshly. “Because why? It wasn’t because you were drunk, was it? It was because you couldn’t control your anger. You never could.”

He stares at you.

“I controlled it for you,” Joel says so quietly you almost miss it. “ You are the only reason I did any of it.”

“What?” you stammer, not sure you want to hear more. “W-what do you mean, Joel? Any of what?”

A million thoughts begin to run through your mind, but you push them aside. Theories about the case and your ideas of Joel’s true nature all threaten to drown you but you push them away.

“Do you want to know why I really killed that sick son of a bitch?” Joel asks dangerously after a long moment of silence. You stare at him, your body frozen. He looks down at his hands, flexing them like he can still feel them punching or around that disgusting man’s throat. “Why I killed him all those years ago? It was no accident, I’ll give you that. Manslaughter, my ass. I killed that scum of the Earth because he threatened you . To do terrible things to you with those disgusting hands of his. So I broke each one, but it wasn’t enough. I killed him because I didn’t want you to get hurt and because I didn’t want you to live in fear of him. I was tired, Y/N. Tired of being afraid for you in a world that doesn’t let you do shit except fight back. I loved you so much, Y/N, it hurt me. It scared me, but I couldn’t let him hurt you. I’d die before I let anyone hurt you again, not him, not your father, not Max, not anyone. You have to understand. I love –”

And then it’s all over. You’re not sure who moves first, but you think it might be you. The butterflies are rustling and thundering and screeching inside you and you kiss him. And Joel kisses back, devouring your mouth in his. You grab the back of his graying brown hair and pull him as close to you as you think is humanly possible. He cradles the back of your head so gently you almost lose your breath. And you are kissing and kissing and kissing and kissing. There is nothing else in the universe except this kiss. You have never felt anything like this in your life. It is like every butterfly inside you has gone silent. It is like the world has stopped just for you and something new is forming inside you.

Joel killed that vile man for you. To keep you safe. Like he always said or showed that he would. He gave his life away for you. He did the unspeakable for you.

He bites down on your bottom lip and all your brain can manage to coherently think is: more, harder .

But then Joel is breaking away from you slowly.

NO! your heart cries out, the delicious pleasure and pain draining away from you. The butterflies swarm dangerously inside your chest, worse with every inch he travels from your lips.

“Joel,” you whine. “What? You…you don’t want–”

“Don’t even say that, Y/N,” he growls dangerously. “Of course I want you. How could I not? I have spent my entire life wanting you in some capacity, baby, but I ain’t no good for you either, alright? I…” he says slowly like it takes every inch of his body to agree to say this. “I am not a good man, Y/N. I never have been. I’ve done wrong in every chapter of my life. You deserve someone much better. I don’t want to hurt you. Physically or mentally. Our history… The damage I’ve done…” he trails off.

“You don’t understand,” you swallow, tears forming in your eyes. “You have already loved and hurt me more than any human being on planet Earth. And yet somehow there is nothing you could do that would keep me away from you, don’t you get that? The Joel Miller I love is not a good man and I don’t care. I want all of you. All of the pretty and crooked pieces you try to hide away from me. You killed a man with your bare hands, arguably one of the worst things a human can do, and I don’t care. I still want you, Joel. Maybe even more because of it. No one has ever loved me the way you do and that is the love I want and it terrifies me.”

A single tear falls down Joel’s right cheek. You reach up to wipe it away, but Joel grabs your hand on the way reflexively, so you help him wipe his own tears away.

“I love you,” you whisper.

“I would move the Earth for you,” Joel whispers back.

“I know,” you nod. “I’ve always known. I–”

But he is kissing you again before you can say another word, like a man starved. You hold onto his cheeks, your fingers caressing his stubbly beard.

“ Joel,” you whine when you break for air.

“I wanted this so badly,” he says softly, grinning a lopsided grin. “Can’t believe this is real.”

“Me too,” you giggle.

You have to lean up a bit, but you press your forehead to his gently.

“Oh, baby,” Joel smirks. “You’ve made me the happiest man alive, ya know that? You like

it when I go a little rough, honey?” he smirks down at you in satisfaction, reading your mind.

You have to stop yourself from getting lost in the warm pools of his brown eyes, your panties soaked.

He reaches an affectionate hand down to rub your side softly.

“This okay, babygirl?” he coos, massaging his hand down your torso.

“I’d let you do anything to me, don’t you know?” you snicker. “Pain or pleasure, it’s all the same to me. I like all of that. I just want you so bad.”

“Think a safe word is in order,” Joel grins, leaning down to kiss your neck. “How about ‘butterflies?’” you suggest.

“Sounds good to me, baby,” he grins, looking genuinely happy for the first time in hours.

He leans down and places a calloused hand around your throat, not squeezing (yet – you hope) and plants soft kisses and bites down your expanse of skin.

“All mine,” he mutters into your skin. “My beautiful babygirl.”

You feel his erection pressing against you through his black dress pants which makes you moan softly.

His hand trails over your crotch and he starts rubbing over the tight fabric of your red dress.

“That okay?”

“Yes,” you whine. “Want more, Daddy.”

Oh shit. You don’t mean to say it like that! You know it is about ten levels of fucked up to call Joel that, but how is it your fault that in every fantasy that’s how you think of him? You figure you’re probably past the point of weird and every other standard of decency, but you’re still afraid.

“Sorry…” you mumble. “I–”

“No, no, baby,” Joel says quickly. “It’s alright, you can call me whatever you want. I don’t mind, sweetheart.”

“You think it’s weird,” you mumble again, further stupid tears forming in your eyes.

He snickers.

“Baby, I think we’re beyond weird at this point. Let me show you how turned on it makes me.”

Joel takes your hand and places it on his crotch. He takes your left hand, the one with the scar and you cringe a little, but he is rock-hard.

That’s good because you’re positively drenched.

“You’re okay, sweetheart. Daddy likes that more than you know, alright?”

You take your hand back, smiling, but you cover your scarred finger, shocked he will allow this fantasy for you.

“Whatcha hidin’ from me, baby?” he asks, noticing the positioning of your hands.

“I hate that scar on my finger. ‘S so ugly,” you admit.

Joel looks flabbergasted.

“That’s the last damn thing I think of when I look at you. Ugly? Who in the fuck told you that?”

“How it got there is ugly. It’s marred skin, looks gross,” you mumble.

Joel moves to take out his cock, and when you nod he unzips and unbuttons his dress pants, pulling out his length. You have fantasized about his cock for god knows how long so you are more than excited to see it. He reaches to place your left hand with the scarred fingers around the length of his dick, which is thick, but longer than you expected. The leaking head is almost purple and your mouth begins to water as you stroke him gently.

“It’s part of you,” Joel tells you, his eyes connecting with yours. “I love it. It shows you survived. Gonna jerk off to it, Daddy loves it so much. And when I’m done you’re gonna love it too. Swear I’ve got so many over the years I can barely even count ‘em. Even got a few on my middle finger. Maybe even one from a certain guitar pick you made me. Nothing like that could ever make me stop wanting you, ya know that, right?”

You smile and take your time stroking him, wanting to show him how much you love and care for him, scars and all.

He grunts softly, closing his eyes, but then shoos your hand away with a feverish kind of want.

“Yeah, touch yourself now, baby. Daddy wants to see how wet you are for him. With that scarred finger. C’mon, now. ‘S gonna make you feel so good.”

You do as you’re told and reach down underneath your dress and begin to touch yourself, especially with your middle finger. You stroke your clit and then your dripping wet slit. You moan softly as Joel’s eyes rake over you, taking in every sigh and groan you emit. The butterflies are forming something big inside you, which presses against the inside of your tummy and ribcage.

“Daddy,” you whine.

“Enough, little one,” Joel whispers.

He takes out your hand and begins to suck the slick off of each of your fingers, groaning deeply, making intense eye contact the whole time.

“Fuck, angel,” he moans, having a tough time keeping himself together, you can tell. “Taste and smell better than like how I pictured. Like you were fuckin’ made for me, I swear.”

He reaches a hand of his own down to stroke himself and his moans become more desperate. Finally, he sucks on your middle finger covered in your slick and groans so deeply you feel like you might cum untouched. He stares into your eyes.

“ Mine, ” he growls possessively. “Oh, shit! Gonna–”

Then he takes your left hand and leads it to meet his throbbing cock. You stroke him, harder this time, fisting his thick length, moaning softly and that does it for him.

Joel cums all over your hand, oozing white globs of cum over your fingers, once, twice, three times.

“Fuuuuuck, babygirl,” he groans. “Oh, shit, I’m so sorry! Couldn’t help it. Yeah, suck it off, baby. That’s it,” he commands, and you do, licking up all of his cum, even the part that got on your middle finger.

When Joel comes down he still looks half-crazed with desire.

“Sorry about the, uh, early release. It’s been a while since anyone touched me,” he babbles in embarrassment, his cheeks flushed pink. “But I don’t wanna hear shit about your gorgeous hands ever again, you hear me, babygirl?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you nod, snickering.

He looks like that one word has set his entire universe back in order again. You honestly don’t care at how fast Joel came. You love how much it shows he wants you. And his heady taste is making you weak. You could taste him for days and days and never get tired, you’re sure.

“Can still get you off though, don’t worry. Shoulda let you cum first, but I couldn’t help it with the things you do to me. Goddamn. Can Daddy eat your pussy, baby?”

You grin, but then your face falls.

“Didn’t shave,” you admit, feeling dirty.

Max hates your hair down there.

Joel looks at you in confusion.

He laughs, his face scrunching up.

“Oh, sweetheart. You think I care about that? Only little boys give a shit about things like that. Not men.”

You shiver.

“Really?”

“Of course I don’t care. Didn’t ya hear what I just said? C’mon now. You can lie down on the couch.”

You follow instructions, pulling your dress over your head to reveal white lace panties and no bra.

You move to take the panties off, but Joel stops you, staring at the lines and curves of your body.

“Jesus, fuck,” he growls, taking you in.

You think you see his cock twitch ever so slightly. He palms his softening length instinctively.

“Beautiful,” he snarls, pushing you back on the sofa.

You happily fall backward.

He lies on top of you, his white button-down shirt pressing against your naked body tantalizingly.

He bites your lips roughly and you groan against him.

“Daddy’s mouth,” he commands against you.

“Yeah, duh, Daddy,” you snicker.

As if he even needs to say it!

He kisses down your neck expertly and you begin to shiver and whine, your pussy aching with need and neglect.

He stops at your breasts, sucking and biting each one.

“Daddy’s tits,” he declares, snaking a finger over the lace panties that protect your clit. “Of course,” you respond, moaning softly, grinding needily against him.

He continues lower, licking down your breasts and over your tummy which he plants with kisses that tickle and then one hard bite on your hip that leaves behind teeth marks.

“Daddy’s body,” he impresses upon you.

“Yes, Daddy. Only yours.”

“No more of that little shithead, Max,” he snarls, an inch above your clit.

“No more Max,” you repeat as he presses kisses down your pussy, still covered by soaked white lace panties.

“Only Daddy.”

“Only you.”

“Good girl,” he growls.

He finally removes your panties and begins to eat and suck your clit and pussy so hard and enthusiastically, swirling his tongue around your bundles of nerves that you grow exponentially closer by the second.

“Joel,” you whine. “Oh my God.”

It doesn’t take long. The second his calloused hand is pressing a finger and then two inside of you it’s over. You were so needy for him that you could have even cum from just his mouth alone, but his hands are what send you over the edge. And something different happens as orgasm crashes down upon you. The butterflies all join together and transform into something bigger and softer, caressing your insides, cooing. It feels like a breathing white dove is spreading its wings inside you, the tips of its feathers brushing against your rib cage. And you cum harder than you ever have in your life.

Pleasure engulfs you in currents, facilitated by the gentle flapping from deep

inside your body.

“ Joel,” you moan. “Oh my God. Daddy, pleaseee–”

“Please what, baby? Make my princess cum again? I would eat that pretty little clit and

pussy every day for the rest of my life if I could, fuck. God, so perfect and you’re so fuckin’ tight. Look how fucking hard you make me, angel.”

He takes one of your hands and places it on his half-hardening cock. Not going to lie, you are partially shocked at his recovery, but another part of you seems to know that if there was anyone in the universe that could do that to him it had to be you.

“Never got hard again from anyone I’ve ever fucked before…” he trails off dreamily like he can read your thoughts. “You’re so gorgeous, babygirl.”

“Not so bad yourself, handsome,” you tell him lazily, pressing a kiss to the side of his mouth as you pull him closer to you.

The heat from his body keeps you so warm and tender and for a moment you lie on the couch, Joel’s still-clothed body pressed to yours.

“Can you fuck me, Joel?” you ask, squirming against him needily.

“You can’t say that shit to me, baby,” Joel groans, his cock getting harder. “Not quite ready yet.”

“Lemme help you out,” you offer, pouting.

You reach down and stroke his half-hard length and then bend over and press a gentle kiss to the tip of his cock.

Joel swears, staring down at you with so much adoration it pours off his face. No man has ever looked at you like that before. You’re certain. Perhaps no man ever will again? Not like that.

“Shit, baby,” Joel babbles stupidly, his eyes threatening to swallow you up in that beautiful shade of umber. “Never gonna forget this moment,” he grunts as you begin to suck his cock properly, feeling it slowly get hard enough to throb between your lips with each thrust of your head and gluck of your throat.

You stare up at him, your eyes wide and wanting and Joel lets out a soft, vulnerable moan as you begin to really suck him and take him down the walls of your throat.

“ Unh , babygirl, fuck,” he whines and you have never quite heard Joel so desperate before. “Gotta pull out or I’m gonna cum. Holy fuck.”

It sounds just like it did the night you accidentally spied on him jerking off.

“You’ve been thinking about me a lot, huh, Daddy?” you ask, releasing Joel from your mouth like he wanted, though his hips buck forward ever so slightly with desire, the tip of his cock just barely scraping against your mouth. He grunts.

“Maybe so,” he replies, looking a little guilty. “Don’t know how not to these days.”

“Heard you on the couch last night,” you whine yourself. “Had to touch myself ‘cuz of it, Daddy. I’m sorry.”

Joel reaches out a hand to cup your crotch and rub against your slick pussy.

“That’s so fuckin’ naughty, baby,” he groans. “Look how wet that made you. All for me.”

You steal a glance at his cock and find that the tip is weeping too. And he is so fucking big compared to the size of your hand. Fuck!

“You were thinking about me, weren’t you?” you whisper.

“All about you, baby,” Joel nods in agreement, his hips twitching ever so slightly. “‘Bout touching you just like this.”

He slinks two big fingers inside you and you moan deliciously, the feathery wings of the newly-formed dove fluttering against your insides.

“Gotta stretch you a bit more,” he grunts into your throat, pushing in a third finger. “Daddy’s so big and you’re so tight, angel. Don’t wanna hurt ya. Not too bad at least. Not yet…That’s it, pretty girl, fuck,” he grins when you slide back on his thumb in pleasure which had traveled to the rim of your asshole “Good girl, so good for Daddy. So naughty too. Don’t think Daddy won’t punish you.”

“Want you to hurt me, Daddy,” you moan. “When you fuck me. Please fuck me hard. I want all of you – pain and pleasure. One hundred percent Joel. Joel, please, I need–”

And Joel does stop for a moment.

“Never hurt you in a way you didn’t beg for,” he tells you seriously. “You know that right, baby?”

You stop your rutting against him and look into his eyes.

“Are you kidding? You would protect me with your dying breath. I know that, Joel. Never been afraid of you since I’ve really known you. Not once. I mean: fuck; you gave up your whole life for me. To keep me safe, for fuckssake. In every word you say and don’t say to me I can feel how much you love me.”

“I do love you so much, babygirl,” he whispers, nuzzling your forehead. “If I had to, I’d do all of it all over again if it meant I’d get you. I’ve made mistakes, big ones, but protecting you, loving you was never one of them.”

Warm tears trail down your cheeks, but Joel licks and kisses them away.

“Wanna feel me inside you?” he asks. “Don’t wanna go too fast, but I need you, baby. Needed you for so long…Sweet little pussy’s just cryin’ for Daddy, huh? Gonna fit me just like a glove, I just know it — if you wanna…”

“Yes, please, fuck me, Daddy! Please, Joel Wanna feel you—ah!” you moan as Joel shoves his entire length into your pussy in one hard thrust eagerly. “Oh my God, please fuck me harder!” you moan, reeling from the deep blend of pain and pleasure of him sinking inside you, clenching down around the thickness of him. “Joel, please!”

He pauses, sweat glistening on his brow, sneering.

“You really want harder?”

You shiver. The way he says that makes your heart beat wildly in your ears.

“Because babygirl, I would treat you like porcelain if you want it so. I will never hurt you, my angel, my gift from god, my goddamn sweetest heart please know I will break my fucking hands before they would hurt you, before I would ever hurt you in a way that you didn’t want, no matter how much it hurt me. Do you understand me?”

“Of course, Joel. But you want it too,” you smirk. “You aren’t innocent in this, are you?”

“Fuck, of course i’m not innocent. I want you, babygirl. In every way there is to want another. Want every inch of you, inside and out. Wanna mark you up so the world knows you’re mine, honey. Want everyone to smell me on you and know I marked you, moved in you, darlin’, please, see, I’m no fucking Hemingway, I didn’t go to college, I’m not like you with words, but I need you to understand that I mean this with my whole chest and heart. Really, I’m not a big talker, never was, babygirl, but I need you to understand I—”

“I do, you dumbass fucking fool!” you shout, giggling at his desperation. “I’d understand you even if you were speaking another language. You’ve made your intentions loud and clear. I don’t want a Hemingway, I want Joel Miller!”

You pull him in for a kiss and he thrusts in you again a second time and you end up moaning clumsily in his mouth, but you can feel him smiling , smiling like some dumb idiot against you and maybe you called him the correct insult because he is a dumbass fucking fool for you. And it turns out you must be one as well because you are smiling like an idiot for him too.

“ Joel,” you moan as he begins to move inside you, hitting deep places that Max or any of your previous exes never went. Pleasure is tracing itself along the line of your stomach. “Oh my god, I love you so much,” you babble and you’ve never meant that more than you do now.

You can feel Joel coming apart above you, plowing into you, sighing deeply. His grunts and moans and thrusts spur on the intense pleasure.

“More!” you moan. “Oh my god. Harder, please, I need–”

Joel plants rough bites on your neck and kisses too like he’s trying to consume every inch of you.

He places a large hand around your throat questioningly and you nod.

“Beg for it,” he commands in his deep, sexy voice — the voice that’s been in every wet dream you’ve ever had. You think you might just pass out from the sound alone.

“Choke me, Daddy,” you whine as pathetically as you possibly can, batting your eyes. “Oh, please, I could cum from just this, but I want more. More of you. All of you.”

“As you fuckin’ wish, baby,” he snickers in amusement. “Bet no little boy ever fucked you like this, huh?” he growls, continuing his rough pace, slamming against your walls, his eyes growing wild.

“They don’t compare to you, Joel. It’s always been you. In every orgasm. Fuck, never felt like this! Shit! Shit!”

Joel reaches out his large scarred hand and applies gentle delicious pressure to your throat. You know even something like this can be dangerous, but you crave that feral look of violence in his eyes and the power that comes with it. You want him to own you completely – every inch of you. You want him to mark you just like he said he wanted to because he is yours and you are his and has it ever really been any other way? You can’t remember properly from the pleasure rushing through you, the white dove inside you spreading and fluttering its wings, cooing softly. You think it’s only ever been what you feel now.

“Joel, Joel, fuck!” you scream, orgasm building in you.

“I know, babygirl. I know,” he coos himself into your mouth.

He pulls you closer, presses his nose to yours, his lips to yours, biting and kissing like a starving man possessed. He looks into your eyes and it’s there! That look of pure predator closing in on its prey, that look of ownership but also the most intense love you think you’ve ever witnessed. You would recognize that look anywhere. Your starved brain cries out for oxygen beneath his iron grip.

“Gonna cum again, angel,” Joel growls. “Gonna make you cum so hard you’re never gonna forget who you belong to. Whose pretty pussy this is.”

He is pounding so hard against your cervix and his dick is so big inside you and the pressure of his hand squeezing around you is so overwhelming and the scent of him could make you faint straight then and there, but you let go and feel yourself cumming in enormous waves as you squeeze down around Joel’s prick, the pleasure more intense than any single bodily experience you’ve had.

“ Daddy ,” you whine breathlessly, tears trickling out of your eyes. “Oh my god!”

“You’re mine, babygirl, always have been–FUCK!” he shouts into your throat, collapsing on top of you.

And then you feel him starting to empty himself inside you, painting your sensitive insides with trustful after trustful of hot cum. You’ve never felt so helplessly full and sticky in your life, the brilliant pleasure billowing through every inch of you. You want to feel like this every day, stuffed full of Joel’s cock, so close to him you can feel his heartbeat against yours, the one true place you belong.

“So beautiful, babygirl,” he whispers in an exhausted type of awe.

When your words come back you reply,

“Shut up, you’re the hot one,” through a snicker.

You look down at your body, covered in purple bite marks and bruises forming like galaxies across your body.

Joel snorts. Then he sits up on the couch and you lean your cheek against him. You lean up to kiss his cheek and he blushes ever so slightly.

“I said a lot of stuff, Y/N, but I want you to know that I meant all of it,”

“Yeah, you probably said more in the last hour than you’ve ever uttered in your entire life,” you tease, sitting up.

“I’m serious,” he snickers.

“I am and was too,” you nod. “I’m so glad that you’re here with me — that we did this. I know that our…origin story is weird and unconventional and some might argue straight up wrong, but I need you, Joel. I don’t care about that or think I could go back to pretending to be what we were.”

“You think I’d want you to act like that?” he asks incredulously. “You think I want this to just be a one-time thing?”

“Of course not,” you smirk. “But as close as we are I can’t actually read your mind. I mean…how are we going to be together realistically?”

“I’m not sure,” Joel admits, frowning a little. “For now it has to be a secret unless you want your mother or brother in jail for murdering me this time around. But someday, I dunno. It’s dumb…”

“What?”

“I just have these thoughts sometimes about you ‘n me. I…” Joel’s cheeks turn a bit pink. “Had a lot of time to think in prison, you know? And I’d Imagine us living on a ranch somewhere quiet out in the country with a flock of sheep. I could work at the tractor and auto-body repair shop that’d be out there, you know, in this dream of mine, and you could be a counselor at a local school if that’s what ya wanted. I don’t know, l know it sounds silly, but nobody would know or bother us there. But I want you to finish school and have the best life possible, babygirl. I’d wait a thousand years for you, but if you didn’t want me anymore the way we are now, I’d respect that. And if you’d allow it, I’d still be there for you just in a platonic sense — or just there for you however you want because I can’t imagine my life with you in it. I’d do whatever it takes, brokenhearted or not. I just can’t be separated from you like that again. A day longer in prison and I could’ve keeled over and died. And it’s crazy how much I mean that.”

“I don’t ever want to be separated from you again, Joel,” you agree. “I know the original plan was for you to find work and get an apartment of your own and I would love for that to still happen, but with you being intimate with me in every way – even if it has to be a secret. I don’t pretend to know what the future holds, but I need you in mine. I’ve never needed something more than I need that. Understand?”

Joel pulls you into a hug and leans his chin on the top of your head. He kisses it then your forehead. You lean up and plant a kiss on his throat and then his Adam’s apple.

“Don’t mean to get too ahead of ourselves now. We can take things a day at a time,” he mumbles into your skin.

You yawn contentedly, the tiredness clawing at your eyes, so unbelievably spent.

“I like hearing about your dreams and I’d go anywhere with you, Joel. But I am kinda dead from how good you just fucked me. Take me to bed?” You ask exhaustedly into his chest.

“Of course, babygirl,” he smirks down at you.

***

You don’t let go of Joel all night long, burrowed up against his chest, his heartbeat against your ear. And he doesn’t let go of you either. After the most intimate night of cuddles and snuggling you’ve ever experienced as well as the deepest and most restful sleep you’ve had in ages, you wake up to Joel gone from the bed. You frown, having wanted more than anything to wake up in his strong arms. Fear grips your insides as you wonder if he finally realized last night was a mistake and that you were never meant to be together in the first place (what you fear more than anything). A stupid vulnerable tear comes to your eye, but then you cock your head and hear music playing. Guitar music.

You think of your apartment as shitty, but truthfully you care deeply about your little private space and one of the things you do actually love the most about it is the tiny balcony that overlooks a measly courtyard and part of the city. That’s where you find Joel in the deck chair holding his guitar, strumming it lazily.

“Mornin’, beautiful,” he says, fingerpicking a melody that scratches at the back of your mind with familiarity.

“Morning, handsome,” you tell him softly, plopping your smaller hand down on his shoulder.

The city hasn’t woken up yet, the soft glow of morning shining beams of light onto you and Joel, filling you with warmth. You sit down in the deck chair next to him, bathing in the sunlight.

“Whatcha playing?” you ask curiously, crouching to sit up on your knees.

“You know the song ‘Hallelujah’ by Leonard Cohen?” Joel asks in that beautifully deep voice of his.

He isn’t even singing yet but you could listen to him forever.

“‘Course,” you nod. “It’s a classic. You used to play it for me once in a blue moon.”

“Know what the word ‘Hallelujah’ actually means?” he asks.

You think about it for a second.

“It’s about praising god and all that, right? Why d’you ask?”

He pauses, both his words and fingerpicking.

“Babygirl,” he begins and you can tell he’s about to say something serious. “You know I’m not too good with words, but I need you to know this: I’ve never had much to thank god for in my life, except for Sarah, you know? But then He took her away…”

You place your hand on Joel’s and he looks at you sadly, but appreciatively. He flips it over and holds it in his giant paw of his own marked-up hand.

“And I was so fucking angry. Nothing left in me. The only good part of me gone. I was a broken man. And I hated Him. But then He, despite the shit I’ve done…He gave me you . And I know our road hasn’t been easy or fair, and the pain you’ve felt and I have felt but…I guess what I’m trying to say is you are the reason I believe that any type of…goodness— of holiness— can exist in this universe. And I’m not a religious man, I don’t believe in most of that dogmatic type of shit, and I don’t think you do either, but I do think someone or something is up there and I wanna thank them for you. Does that make sense? Do you wanna hear what I mean? I just feel so damn grateful.”

A tear you hadn’t noticed was there rolls down your cheek.

“Of course it does and of course I do,” you tell him.

You think perhaps this is the closest thing he can do to bearing his soul to you.

And then he leans over and kisses the tear away and begins to fingerpick the familiar melody.

♪ “I heard there was a secret chord…”♫

You listen to his deep weathered voice as the sun grows higher in the morning sky, casting both light and shadow over Joel’s wrinkled, handsome face. The light trails over you too. You feel the dove inside you cooing contentedly, dusting its wings gently against the edges of your insides.

♪There's a blaze of light in every word / It doesn't matter which you heard / The holy or the broken Hallelujah…”♫

When he finishes he places his large, scarred, calloused hand in yours and you hold it between your own scarred fingers.

“Thank you, Joel,” you tell him, meaning every word. “I think there’s hope for us, you know? I don’t believe in hippie-dippie type stuff, but something in this universe did bring us together. And I’ll be forever grateful for that too, ya know?”

Joel squeezes your smaller hand, his big fingers engulfing yours as the dove coos louder inside you.

“Babygirl, you know that I ain’t a good man, or a rich and educated one like maybe you thought you’d end up with, but I am less of a broken one because of you and I’m never letting you go. If we’re together, I think we have a chance.”

A/n:PLEASE COMMENT LIKE REBLOG IM BEGGING IM PLEADING IM CRYING DID THE SMUT LIVE UP TO YOUR DREAMS????

PART 1

PART 3 (coming soon)

Violent Heart Masterlist

Full Masterlist of all my work

Tags:

@toxicanonymity @motelprincess444 @epicrainbowsheep @anama-cara @sheepdogchick3

@denileisariver @lochnymph @mewantpeepaw. @fandomdaydreamer @r3dheadedwitch

@paanchusblog @prettystrangething @untamedheart81 @kotourasan123 @valkyreally

@lunpycatavenue

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dilfl0v3rss · 1 year

Text

drunk delusions

(onyankopon x black reader)

summary: a strange man tries to pick you up from the club.

word count: 1.5k

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

it was nearly midnight when ony got the call. you were supposed to be at mikasa’s house by now, but you seemed to have taken way to many shots at the club and gotten yourself into some trouble. “y/n it’s late. you good?” you hear ony’s deep and sleepy voice as you sat on the curb in front of the club in cuffs. the officer was kind enough to hold your phone to your ear as you called your boyfriend. you were accompanied on the curb by your friends sasha and mikasa. the three of you were drunk as hell and honestly had no remorse for the actions that got you here. “heyyyy boooo. ‘m on the curb” hearing your slurred words through the speaker, ony can tell that you are clearly drunk.

“i thought you was at mikasa’s already what happened?” even though you didn’t care about the situation that much, you knew even in your drunken state that your man will be upset if you told him what happened. you hesitated before you answered, knowing that if you lied the officer was likely to snitch on you anyways. “i got ina fight and i need you t’come get me. and can you call connie and jean b’cause sasha and mikasa are in trouble too.” little did you know that ony was already in the car, looking at your location on his phone. “i’m coming ma.” were the only words you heard come through the speaker before you heard three beeps. signaling to you that he hung up.

“connie’s finna spank me so hard guys i think my butt might fall off.” sasha quietly whimpers to you and mikasa as y’all wait for your boyfriends to get there. “i dunno if he’s comin sash. ony never said he was gonna call. he just hung up on me.” hearing your words, sasha began to smile, thinking she was safe. “okay good. can we pleaseeee go home wit you then y/n?” mikasa shakes her head at sasha’s question. “no he called. i can feel my phone shakin a bunch in my purse. now jeans not gonna buy me the bag i wantedddd.” you and sasha both turned towards mikasa. shocked at her sentence. “we’re worried about getting our butts slapped off and you’re worried about a BAG?!?” before you can add anything on to what sasha said you were interrupted by the sound of three car doors being closed near you.

your heart was filled with dread as a man approached the police officer. he was wearing a black nike tech suit with white socks and yeezy slides. you can tell he was well built by the way the hoodie nicely fitted his arms and chest. saying this man was attractive was an understatement, but you were a good girl and would never think of another man that way while you have your ony. as you quickly turned your head forward towards the police car you notice the officer walking being the three of you to remove the cuffs. you seen connie come up the sasha, whisper-yelling something to her in spanish while walking her to his car. and then you saw jean quietly grab mikasa and walk away with her. disappointment written all over his face. then you turned around to the mysterious man in the sweatsuit. “uhh who are you?”

now anyone in there right mind could clearly tell that this was your boyfriend, but in your drunken state you couldn’t tell the difference between a cat and a dog. “baby don’t start. m’tired and i needa get you home.” ony tried to gently pull your arm, but you quickly yank it away. “nigga i don’t know you. and you need to get back for real before my man see you tryna grab up on me like that.” you look around and move closer to his face. making it seem like it was top secret information you were about to spill. “he got guns too. i never got to touch em, but i’ve seen em and they’re real.” ony rolls his eyes at your statement. he did not have time for this tonight, but seeing the way you talked about him when he’s not around like he was some big scary guy kinda turned him on.

“you wouldn’t let anything happen to me tho. right pretty?” his words went straight to your core. ony knew that even though you may not have been able to recognize him visually. the affect he had on your body can never be forgotten. “h-hey! you don’t g-get to call me that. only my boyfriend calls me that” you whisper with a frown. as much as ony would’ve loved to keep teasing you, he really was getting tired and didn’t want to keep you in the cool spring air for too long. noticing how you started to shiver and cover up your arms every time a breeze came. “i am your boyfriend woman” he said with a blank face. you were still skeptical and you came up with a quick plan to settle this matter once and for all.

“m’gonna call em” ony rolls his eyes as he watches you dig through your purse for your phone. as you continued to struggle to find your phone he decided that the quicker he gave in to your delusions the faster he can get you home. pulling your phone out his pocket, ony silently gives it to you. you look up at him in confusion as you snatch the phone from his hand and begin dialing your lovers number. “ima let that go since you’re drunk, but don’t snatch…you brat.” ignoring him, you turn away from the man so he didn’t see you put your password in. ony couldn’t do anything but laugh at this since he already knew your password, but he let you keep on with your mess. you put the phone to your ear and wait for your boyfriend to answer. as if you were under a spell, you completely missed the sound of the man behind you lightly laughing as he picked up his phone and answered it.

“hey mama. what you up to?” you sigh happily as you hear your man’s voice ring through the speaker. “hey pa there’s this man tryna pick me up from the club. i told him that you don’t play about me but he not listening.” an idea pops into ony’s head which causes him to smirk behind you. “what he look like baby?” you turn your head and look the man up and down a couple times. while you stared at him for a couple seconds you instantly felt your face grow warm when the motherfucker decided to wink at you.

quickly turning around you replied to your boyfriend, “he darkskin and got these tattoos all on his neck. he probably got more all over. he got on a sweatsuit and he smell good too. don’t be mad but…he-…he kinda fine” you whisper the last part into the phone, hoping the man behind you didn’t hear. ony chuckled through the phone at the compliment. “that’s not a good enough description princess. you gotta get closer for me.” you whine into the phone at your boyfriends demand. not trusting yourself to get any closer to this man without doing something dumb. “whyy daddyyyy? i think i did good enough.”

“i’d hate to come over there and get the wrong guy. if you want me to handle em you gotta give daddy a better description.” you sigh as you find yourself agreeing with your man. knowing you’d hate yourself if he were to get an innocent guy by accident. you walk closer to the man and study him again. noticing his sexy grin and his tall figure. he had small diamond studs in his ears and two gold chains on. he was very well built. looks like he works out almost everyday. you noticed under his hood he had on a dark grey durag. “damn he’s fine as hell” you quickly cover your mouth. not meaning for those words to be said out loud. the man laughs as you see him remove his phone from him ear and click a button. you notice that your phone was no longer connected to the call with your boyfriend as the man speaks. “it’s me mama”

his voice was so deep it made you have to clench your legs close together. you tried to pay no mind to what he was saying until you glanced up at his chains again. noticing the one with your name on it. squinting in confusion you look up at the man to get a better look at his face. his dark skin and bright smile made you almost pass out as you realized who he really was. “baby?”

“yea princess it’s me.” you squeal as you finally begin to recognize your man. “finally. i thought i was gon have to drag you outta here screamin. can we please go home now?” you smile up at your man as you showered his face with kisses. “mhmm i’m tired i wanna go straight to bed when we get there” ony chuckled at your sentence. knowing damn well he wasn’t going to let you just go to sleep after what you put him through tonight. “nah you not off the hook. you’ll go straight to sleep AFTER i handle you. i think twenty’s reasonable for tonight since you wanna be a criminal so bad” hearing his words you began to feel your pussy flutter under your short dress as you thought about the spanking you were about to receive when you got home. this was gonna be a fun night.

#aot onyankopon #onyankopon x reader #onyankopon x black reader #connie #connie springer #jean kirstein #x black reader #onyankopon smut #aot x black reader

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mistkisbiggestfan · 10 months

Note

Oh my God.

I had a very funny and slightly strange idea...

Imagine that there is mutual sympathy between the reader and Jax. In short, Jax has crush on reader, but the reader... don’t know it.(or just don’t see it)

So, a new person appears in the circus. It doesn't matter who it is, what it is, what their name is, etc.

So, the newcomer and the reader became very close friends. I mean, sleeping in the same room, hugging, holding hands...(I mean friends, no lovers)

Look, I just want to see Jax get jealous, okay...?

Thank you🫶❤️

Jealous! Jax (Romantic) + Pomni (Platonic) / Gn! Reader

Jax (romantic), Pomni (platonic) / Gn! Reader

A/n: Back on the grind we go!! Hell YEAH!! I actually like how this turned out, hope you like it!! REQUESTS FOR TADC ARE OPEN!!!

Summary: Jax may or may not have a crush on you and be very much jealous of Pomni being your close friend. Words: 1448 Request: yup!

There was always a spark between you and Jax, surprising? Absolutely.

The thought that this deranged, unhinged, smooth rabbit man could ever feel such complex emotion as love was insane, at least to everyone except for you.

Sure he has some bad qualities, but that’s normal. (Get a grip bro this man is beyond saving /j)

He was here once you got into the circus, and that first time you met, both of you hit it off great! He was always smug and funny, but nothing too overboard. Of course everyone realized right off the bat, and Ragatha just came to you and was like: “How did you do it?”

You were confused, Jax was always like that! A bit silly, and very charismatic.

And so this feeling bloomed, but somewhere where none could see, not even you. You liked him a lot, surely, but he wasn’t the type to fall for a person, he was so sure of himself, you knew there was no chance of him swooning over someone, not like it’s a bad thing, but he wasn’t a type of person to beg for affection if it was to be taken away.

Or so you thought.

You let your crush take a backseat in this h#!! of a ride. But meanwhile, to Jax’s absolute demise and confusion, he found himself staring a bit too long, or laughing a bit too loudly at your jokes. He fell, definitely not first, but most definitely harder.

The thought process was quite simple really: “Absolutely no f*@/!n# way.”

But oh well, he’s 100 % the type of guy to try to impress you every chance he gets, even at the expense of others.

Not like he cares about others though.

What you might not realize is how under all that narcissistic and overall not the best person is someone who is like, very touch starved.

He would die to even hold hands, but just with you.

That pisses him off slightly, he never had such problems, and it’s not looking good.

He has a way with words, but not a way with emotions. That concept is foreign and very, unsettlingly new to him.

Then a newcomer comes around, a silly little jester – Pomni! Both of you become friends really fast, because unlike Jax, you’re actually one of two best comforters in the Digital Circus, the first-best being Ragatha.

That’s why Pomni always sticks with either you or Ragatha.

At first it wasn’t that much of a problem – You were good at putting others at ease – Jax knew that, and with time, he also knew that Pomni hated physical touch.

So when he saw you two hugging or anything like that? My man is pissed.

And it became an actual, apparent problem. Because the smaller jester stuck to you like glue, soon she was even sleeping with you in your room: “Because hers was too stuffy.” Yeah, he wasn’t buying that. (It was the truth tho lmao)

And when Caine brought it up one time, asking you and Pomni if you were dating?? Fuming, you could really see the smoke coming out of his ears.

Of course both of you quickly shut that down, saying that no, you weren’t dating, and were actually far from it.

Part of him wanted to accept that, why did he even care? The other part told him to fuck up Pomni’s mind to the point of abstraction, one sentence could destroy her so why not?

It wasn’t hard to catch on with his emotions, you saw him pull pranks which were just getting more and more cruel. And there was no way you could let that slide.

Especially since Pomni was coming to you for advice on love herself, since she had an eye on one, quite pretty ragdoll here in the circus.

– Good thing this is just a dream, right Pomni? – Jax elbowed the smaller jester, leaning over her, he watched the product of his words show off in the girl’s eyes, as her pupils became dark and disorganized scribbles. Both of them stood somewhere near your room, everything happening because Jax saw Pomni walking to yours again. And he wasn’t having that, so he decided to mess with the jester who was stealing your attention lately. Pomni stayed silent, making Jax snicker lightly, but something interrupted this $h!t show from going on further, light footsteps. The taller man turned around just to see you coming down the hallway, his smile widened. You focused your eyes on two figures before you. – Jax, Pomni! – You smiled at Jax, making him look away for just a second, before you turned to Pomni, smile turning into a frown. – Pomni? Finally stopping you looked at your friend who was visibly not doing so great. You spoke up again. – Hey Pomni, are you doing okay..? – The jester shook her head, breaking out of the trance, she looked at you, her pupils dilated. – What? Uh, yeah, you know what, I’m going to go. – She said quickly, before awkwardly speeding away from you two. You sighed and looked at Jax, who was smugly looking at you. – What did you tell her this time Jax? – You questioned tiredly, anticipating any reasonable response from the rabbit. He laughed. – Oh nothing much you know, just typical stuff. – His grin widened. – Jax. – You looked at him sternly, at times like this you wondered why you even liked him that much. That, seemingly brought him back to earth for a second. – Maybe something about this being a dream.. you know, just typical stuff. You knew how Pomni was, h#!! she told you herself. Poor little thing, she was battling so many emotions right now, especially since she fell for one of the circus members, just like you – which you could relate to. And know you were looking at him, wondering why? Looking at him, you mentioned for the rabbit to follow you. Finally, as both of you stepped into your room, you shut the door behind you and turned to him. – Jax, what’s up your @$$ lately? – You asked, mad. Well that was anything else he expected from you, seems like you caught on to what he was doing, he sighed still smiling smugly. – What do you mean? – You know what I mean. – You said, crossing your arms on your chest, looking up at him. – Not a single clue! – He played along, to a one sided game. You weren’t having that. And then out of all things you could’ve done, you managed to surprise him, catching his breath in his throat, why? Because out of all things you attacked the weakest part of him – His crippling touch starvation – You caught one of the straps to his overalls and pulled him down so you and the rabbit were on the same eye-level, faces dangerously close to each other. And as he felt your touch on his body, he felt something clicking in his at the moment thoughtless brain. But as soon as the touch came, it was gone, and he felt it linger long after you left the room, leaving him staring dumbfounded at one spot in front of him for far longer than what was deemed normal. And now he was left with two options, mess with your new friend and get all this newfound and surprisingly great but still negative attention, or apologize and somehow get you to touch him again. As he was leaving, walking along the halls towards his room to think, he saw Pomni down the hallway, she saw him too. She looked confused, caught up in this tricky territory called love, just like him. But this time, he decided to leave the jester be, which brought him one step closer to his new habit of longing for you and your touch.

Did he apologize to you? Yeah, if you can call it that. It was a typical, Jax fashioned, half–@$$ed apology, but only because his ego didn’t let him go as far as saying an actual sorry.

But he did change! Well, kind of. He was less obnoxious towards Pomni, and let her adjust to this new hellish life she was forcefully pulled into.

After noticing how the jester’s eyes literally turned to hearts when she looked at Ragatha, and when he overheard you giving love advice to her, he definitely gave up on making her abstract out of pure jealousy.

Instead, making it his goal to get you to touch him in any way, yes, he’s that desperate.

But that made you just more in love, he was actually (a little tiny bit) nice!!

Let’s just hope no new people come around, because jealous Jax is literally a walking death threat.

#requests open #request #please request #tadc pomni #x reader #pomni #ragatha #tadc jax #jax #the amazing digital circus jax #caine #the amazing digital circus #tadc #jax x reader #tadc x reader #tadc jax x reader

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youremyheaven · 4 months

Text

The Severity, Spirituality and Stoicism of Saturnians ✊🏼🧎‍♀️💁🏼‍♀️

I will be criticizing Saturnian men throughout this post, if you don't like that, stop reading right now <3

Saturn is the planet of karma, justice, discipline, and order. In Claire's video about Saturnian men, she observed that "in Saturnian men you will find an exact duality contained here in breaking rules and doing strange stunts, pranks and having outbursts etc but also paradoxically find themselves submitting to ideologies, cults, political parties, motivational affirmations etc"

I feel like I touched upon this a bit in my first post about Saturn and in this post I'd like to go into different manifestations of this tendency along with some other things I've observed with Saturnian men.

Timothee Chalamet, UBP Moon

Full disclosure, I've never liked him lmao,, I think the hype he gets is undeserved and 90% bc of the fact that there is a dearth of young charismatic actors in Hollywood.

But anywayyys, Timmy Tim first attracted controversy for working with Woody Allen even though he's since expressed regret for it or whatever,, then he received flak for having sex in a pool during the height of the pandemic and manyyyy blinds about him giving women chlamydia 💀💀started making the rounds and he was lowkey exposed for being a whore

Then last year he drew criticism for smoking indoors at a Beyonce concert (where smoking is prohibited) and he's literally talking to Kylie and blowing smoke ??? at the same time?? which is sooo filthy?? who tf does that??

His silence on the Armie Hammer issue and pretty much all issues lol have also been criticized. Everybody thought he'd be some woke liberal activist but he's just been dead quiet and pretty self absorbed the whole time. He loves to lap attention and give absolutely nothing in return to the community.

The thing with Saturn however is that, bad behaviour does not go unpunished. Timmy Tim has been getting A LOT of flak and the total rose tinted obsession people had with him is slowly fading (even tho he still has legions of fans). People are now starting to see his true colors.

But anyway, this is a very minor issue compared to all the other Saturnians I'm going to mention next.

Jeffrey Epstein, UBP Moon, Anuradha Rising

I'm assuming most of you are familiar with sex offender Epstein. He has trafficked thousands of underage girls over the course of decades and to satiate numerous high profile paedophiles.

He committed suicide while in prison. One thing about Saturn is that, if you stray, are immoral, unfair, undisciplined, corrupt, foul, evil etc it WILL punish you. The truth is Saturnians know deep down that what they're doing IS wrong, they're not like Moon dominants who are completely convinced their corrupt evil idea is a "good" one. Saturnians know full well what they're doing and they do it anyway and they suffer its consequences.

Inviting Saturn's wrath upon oneself is basically how these natives find "balance", they feel like they get away with too much and they're constantly pushing their limits to see how far they can go before this wrath comes for them.

Epstein had been doing this for decades without much consequence, working with extremely high profile people including politicians and royalty. Eventually, he was caught and the truth of his immorality was exposed for all to see AND he ended his own life.

Salvador Dali- UBP Moon

Dali was known for being an eccentric and a weirdo and you can say that the way he pushed his boundaries as an artist is a more "positive" manifestation of Saturnian individuals and their need to test limits.

However, Dali was also a pretty messed up guy

Dali admitted on several occasions to having sadomasochistic tendencies. As a child he enjoyed throwing himself down the stairs, explaining that “The pain was insignificant, the pleasure was immense”. Shockingly, he once pushed his childhood friend off of a 15-foot bridge – as his friend lay injured, Dali apparently sat calmly eating cherries.

Pleasure and pain seemed intimately entwined. Dali wanted both. One other childhood incident of note included a wounded bat. It was kept in Dali's washhouse hideaway and stayed there overnight. When Dali returned to it was being devoured by a mass of ants. He impulsively bit into the seething mass delirious with pleasure.

I had briefly mentioned how Saturnians tend to be sadomasochistic in my previous post about Saturn and these examples just confirm it further.

When he is an adolescent a girl falls desperately in love with him. He kisses and caresses her so as to excite her as much as possible, but refuses to go further. He resolves to keep this up for five years (he calls it his ‘five-year plan’), enjoying her humiliation and the sense of power it gives him. He frequently tells her that at the end of the five years he will desert her, and when the time comes he does so.

When he first meets his future wife, Gala, he is greatly tempted to push her off a precipice. He is aware that there is something that she wants him to do to her, and after their first kiss the confession is made:

I threw back Gala's head, pulling it by the hair, and trembling with complete hysteria, I commanded: ‘Now tell me what you want me to do with you! But tell me slowly, looking me in the eye, with the crudest, the most ferociously erotic words that can make both of us feel the greatest shame!’ Then Gala, transforming the last glimmer of her expression of pleasure into the hard light of her own tyranny, answered: ‘I want you to kill me!’

He is somewhat disappointed by this demand, since it is merely what he wanted to do already. He contemplates throwing her off the bell-tower of the Cathedral of Toledo, but refrains from doing so.

George Orwell once described Dali this way:

"The two qualities that Dali unquestionably possesses are a gift for drawing and an atrocious egoism."

Art historian and critic Brian Sewell has also claimed that Dali once asked him to lie naked in front of one of his sculptures and masturbate whilst he watched.

He was also obsessed with Hitler in a perverse way.

While the vast majority of the Surrealist group professed far-Left political leanings, Dali kept curiously quiet during his early career, before being kicked out of the group for being a Nazi sympathiser, which he denied. Dali went on to make artwork addressing the Hitler, including “The Enigma of Hitler” (above) and “Hitler Masturbating”, once detailing that he “often dreamed of Hitler as a woman” and that the Nazi dictator “turned [him] on”.

He was a big old fascist who also supported the Spanish dictator Franco which made Picasso stop talking to him for the rest of his life. Orwell who fought in the Spanish civil war called Dali a "disgusting human being".

At age six, Dalí writes in his autobiography, he pre-meditated a "terrible kick" to his three-year-old sister's head "as though it had been a ball." Not simply childish not-knowing-better, this baseless cruelty continued as Dalí got older.

Here is an article that says more about his shitty behaviour.

Here is another article about his fcked up relationship with his sister

Saturn never fails to punish tho. It will let you fck up but punishment is imminent.

Dali died in his 80s, almost penniless, completely alone, as he had driven all his friends off decades prior, his wife had already passed and he was seriously ill and bedridden. He used button to call his nurse and one day that button short circuited and set him/the bed on fire. He suffered second and third degree burns all over his body. He lived for another four years in severe pain before passing away.

Just because you go a whole lifetime avoiding punishment, does not mean it isn't coming. People who suffer in old age have it the worst because you suffer 100x more

Dali was a Saturn defying narcissistic, violent, abusive person and guess what Saturn did? It saved it all up for the very end and left him without any kind of mercy. Friendless, penniless, bedridden, in excruciating pain, FOR YEARS until he finally died.

Saturn punishes you/is a harsh teacher because it wants you to uphold the Saturnian qualities of virtue, justice, fairness, doing your duty etc, you may never see the rewards of your good actions, so it may feel like a waste of time to keep being so principled but if you decide to just do whatever and disobey, you best believe Saturn will come through with that wrath. You have to keep being virtuous and morally upright even if you don't see yourself being "rewarded" for it. No one may recognise your goodness but keep being good anyway.

Alexander Graham Bell, Venus in UBP in 2h, Saturn in Shatabhisha in 1h

He is the guy who invented the telephone but he was also a very controversial deaf educator in his time.

Bell's father was a teacher of the deaf. His method of teaching the deaf was coined "Visible Speech." Bell's mother was deaf/hearing impaired and he would often speak to her by placing his mouth close to her forehead, believing the vibrations from his voice would help her distinguish speech more clearly.

Although he married a deaf woman, a former speech pupil, Mabel Hubbard, Bell strongly opposed intermarriage among congenitally deaf people. Bell feared "contamination" of the human race by the propagation of deaf people even though most deaf people statistically are born to hearing parents.

Bell applied his study of eugenics to his goal of preventing the creation of a deaf race and presented his paper Memoir Upon the Formation of a Deaf Variety of the Human Race to the National Academy of Sciences in 1883.4

Bell stated, "Those who believe as I do, that the production of a defective race of human beings would be a great calamity to the world, will examine carefully the causes that will lead to the intermarriage of the deaf with the object of applying a remedy."

In this paper, he proposed to reduce the number of the deaf by discouraging deaf-mute to deaf-mute marriages, advocating speech reading and articulation training for an oral-only method of education, removing the use of deaf teachers and sign language from the classroom.

Suggestions were made to enact legislation to prevent the intermarriage of deaf-mute people or forbidding marriage between families that have more than one deaf-mute member. His preventative strategies for deaf marriage included removing barriers to communication and interaction with the hearing world.

I feel like Saturnians often have a tendency to subconsciously make things harder for themselves and for others. Getting things easy is not Saturn's style. And this can manifest in sooooo many different ways. Bell grew up with a father who taught deaf people/children, his mother was deaf, he married a deaf woman YET he believed that they did not deserve to have separate schools that used communication tools specifically designed for them to make their lives easier. He spent his entire life working with deaf people but still somehow did not want things to be easier for them???

Steve Jobs, UBP moon

He had a pretty stellar reputation for being a major asshole. He was an extremely difficult person to work with and often terrorised his employees and was a toxic vile asshole to the women he dated.

Jobs was given up for adoption by his parents and later in life, he abandoned his girlfriend and baby after he got her pregnant.

His daughter Lisa later said that her mother felt uncomfortable leaving her with Steve alone after an incident in which he questioned and teased the then-nine-year-old Brennan-Jobs about her sexual attractions and proclivities.

Once, as Jobs groped his wife and pretended to be having sex with her, he demanded that Lisa stay in the room, calling it a "family moment."

It is well known that Steve Jobs was really good at conceptualizing things and coming up with ideas (touch screen phones, macbooks, iMacs etc) but he lacked the technical expertise to build anything. His partner, Steve Wozniak was the actual brains behind all of the creations to put it simply.

Early in his career, Jobs worked for the game developing company Atari who promised him a bonus of $5000 for developing a game called Breakout. Jobs did not have the know-how to execute this, so he made his friend Wozniak who worked at a different company stay up all night for 4 nights to design this whole ass game. He gave him $350 for it and told him he was giving him half of what the company paid him. Wozniak only found out much later that Steve basically stole his ideas, used him AND gave him a paltry sum as compensation.

Before Apple went public, Jobs refused to give any major shares to the many many developers and engineers who played a crucial role in pioneering the company. Wozniak gave those employees HIS shares so that they could make a profit when the company went public.

I'm not going to detail all the ways he tormented his employees and staff. You can google it.

Eventually, Saturn's karma started kicking in and Jobs was fired from the company he founded and for 10 years, he had to stay away from Apple. This experience humbled him a bit.

Apple really suffered in his absence and they brough him back in 1997 and we all know the kind of groundbreaking work he did in the next decade there. (hint: iphones, ipods etc)

In 2011, he found out he had terminal pancreatic cancer and resigned from his position and died 6 weeks later.

He refused to get surgery and chemo and chose "alternate treatments" until his disease had progressed so far that, there was no saving him.

He would eat a single thing and only that for weeks. Like apples. He'd eat only apples for three weeks. He was convinced that made him superior to everyone else and that it made him have no body odour, so he never showered either. This made it really hard for others to be around him.

Now back to his daughter, he was incredibly abusive to Lisa. She said she was forced to move home over 13 times before age seven as her mother struggled to pay the bills through a series of cleaning positions, while Jobs, then already a multi-millionaire, refused to help.

During one visit she innocently asked if she could be given his Porsche after learning the flashy vehicle had a scratch and needed to be replaced. His scowling response shocked Lisa, then aged seven.

“‘Absolutely not,’ he said in such a sour, biting way that I knew I’d made a mistake,” she remembers. “I understood that perhaps it wasn't true, the myth of the scratch: maybe he didn’t buy new ones. By that time I knew he was not generous with money, or food, or words; the idea of the Porsches had seemed like one glorious exception. I wished I could take it back. We pulled up to the house and he turned off the engine. Before I made a move to get out he turned to face me.

“‘You’re not getting anything,’” he said. “‘You understand? Nothing. You’re getting nothing.’ Did he mean about the car, something else, bigger? I didn’t know. His voice hurt—sharp, in my chest.” (an excerpt from her memoir 'Small Fry')

Saturn may delay punishment but it will punish and whether or not you learn from it, is up to you. Some individuals are not very malleable and they suffer the most. They make the same mistake over and over again and never learn. Steve died of any entirely preventable disease but he refused treatment. He was in excruciating pain towards his end and was completely bedridden. He expressed regret about not having gotten treatment sooner but :/

It's really scary how your karma catches up with you. Its the worst when it comes for you and leaves you with no time to remedy anything, so you just suffer agony knowing there is nothing you can do.

Woody Allen- Anuradha stellium (Sun, Mercury & Jupiter)

He molested his step daughter Dylan Farrow and is currently married to his former step daughter from the same marriage Soon Yi.

There has been a lot of misinformation regarding him molesting Dylan as a child even though the fact that he is literally married to one of his stepdaughters should be reason enough to suspect him

Allen had been in therapy for alleged inappropriate behavior toward Dylan with a child psychologist before the abuse allegation was presented to the authorities or made public. Mia Farrow had instructed her babysitters that Allen was never to be left alone with Dylan.

Allen refused to take a polygraph administered by the Connecticut state police. Instead, he took one from someone hired by his legal team. The Connecticut state police refused to accept the test as evidence. The state attorney, Frank Maco, says that Mia was never asked to take a lie-detector test during the investigation.

(Here is a link to the full article)

But again, Saturn's karmic lessons come through. Numerous actors have refused to work with Allen, he has been publicly condemned, lost all his reputation during #MeToo Actors such as Greta Gerwig, Colin Firth, and Mira Sorvino have recently apologized for accepting roles in Allen’s films, while many of his most avid fans have turned against him.

Johnny Cash, Rahu in UBP in 1h

Johnny was a drug addict and very abusive to his first wife. He creepily pursued June Carter while he was still married and despite her rejecting him MANY times, he did not give up. She was in a financially unfortunate position and he gave her the opportunity of touring with him, which she had to take up to make ends meet and finally in front of a live audience, he proposes marriage to her and basically forces her to say yes.

They remained married for 50 years and died within a year of each other so idk if they had a happy marriage or a troubled one but the Saturnian persistence was coming thru.

Cash's whole life is super Saturnian. His career came to a standstill in the 70s after a stellar decade long run in the 1960s, all throughout which he was abusing drugs.

In the early 1980s, Cash had eye surgery, broke several ribs, and damaged a kneecap, all on separate occasions, and again became addicted to pills. He was hospitalized in 1983 with internal bleeding that almost killed him. Upon regaining strength, he checked into the Betty Ford Clinic and remained clean until his death.

In 1994, after a looooong period of zero hits and chart play. He collabed with Rick Rubin (the GOAT) and then released a number of successful albums until he passed away in 2003 and from 1997 onwards he had been struggling with autonomic neuropathy and was frequently hospitalized.

Its interesting to me how between 1954 to 1973, Cash was undergoing his Saturn mahadasha and this period brought him enormous success and also made him completely addicted to substances. In 1965, he started a forest fire that burned off 500 acres of forest land and killed 49 of the refuge's 53 endangered condors. When confronted about it, he said "I don't care about your damn yellow buzzards".

From 1973-1990, he was undergoing his Mercury dasha, and this was a very low period in his career as he suffered major setbacks.

As he's sobering up at the Carter's family ranch, he's walking along a path. One of their ostriches is standing in the path. Well Cash thinks to himself "Hell if I'm moving" and tries to move it, so the bird starts trying to headbutt/peck at him, so he swings a punch at the bird, it responds by splitting his goddamn abdomen open with it's talon, from top to bottom. (he said the only thing that stopped the talon was it got stuck on his leather belt and couldn't go further). So he's laying on the ground, and grabs a branch (or an old fence post, can't remember) and starts beating it from the ground until it runs away.

Its interesting how his major highs in life were during his Saturn MD (He has Saturn in Uttarashada in 11h) and his biggest blows came during his Mercury MD (he does have Mercury in Shatabhisha in 12h 😬).

Mercury is not an inherently difficult dasha the way Saturn is. But what we sow, we shall reap. Saturn gives you 19 years to get your shit together and if you don't really learn during this period, it gets on your ass long after that. Jennie from Blackpink ended her Saturn MD in 2019 and some of her career's biggest moments have come since then but so have the controversies (she's currently in her Mercury MD) and it's as though the lingering after effects of the Saturn dasha really dictates how we experience our Mercury dasha.

Winston Churchill, Anuradha Sun

In 1943 in Bengal, over 3 million people died due to starvation and Churchill was directly responsible for this.

Churchill deliberately ordered the diversion of food from starving Indian civilians to well-supplied British soldiers and even to top up European stockpiles, meant for yet-to-be-liberated Greeks and Yugoslavs (all of this happened during WW2 for context)

He basically said, this is none of my business. Even though millions of Indian soldiers fought for the British during WW2 and were British subjects until India gained independence in 1947. Also btw India was the biggest contributor to the Empire's GDP. they looted and plundered us and left us to starve, basically.

In the book, Churchill’s Secret War: The British Empire and the Ravaging of India during World War II, written by Madhusree Mukerjee, Churchill was quoted as blaming the famine on the fact Indians were “breeding like rabbits”, and asking how, if the shortages were so bad, Mahatma Gandhi was still alive. 😡🤬😠he was a racist imperialist pig to say the least.

Some people are Churchill defenders and genuinely believe that the Bengal famine was a necessary sacrifice to win the war, and that those who critiqued him were unfair and had little insight about WWII. Aka: the colonized are expendable in a war between essentially imperialist, genocidal and fascist states. And they can kiss my ass.

To Indians, Churchill is a Hitler-like figure and rightfully so.

"I do not agree that the dog in a manger has the final right to the manger even though he may have lain there for a very long time. I do not admit that right. I do not admit for instance, that a great wrong has been done to the Red Indians of America or the black people of Australia. I do not admit that a wrong has been done to these people by the fact that a stronger race, a higher-grade race, a more worldly wise race to put it that way, has come in and taken their place."

Winston Churchill to Peel commission in 1937.

Here is a thread that elaborates the many fcked up things he did.

When I talk about how cruel, brutal and callous Saturnian men can be, this is what I mean. Saturn restricts, limits and binds. This can easily mean Saturnians subject themselves and others to unnecessary rules, restrictions and limits.

Steve Jobs thought he was superior to others bc he only ate one type of food for weeks and months. Just because someone has discipline, does not automatically mean its good to have it. Free range parents can suck because they dont protect you or shelter you but disciplinarian parents also suck. Both Jupiter and Saturn struggle to learn "balance".

An unevolved Saturnian will be stingy af, very partial, biased and ill mannered. They act like cave men.

Churchill struggled with his mental health his whole life. He referred to it his “black dog:” fits of melancholia that followed Churchill throughout his life and often left him bedridden, suicidal and unshakably depressed for months at a time. It may sound cruel to say poor mental health is "karma" for his actions. (He also suffered 7 strokes and the final one, killed him). But the ways in which we are punished are often not materially obvious??? We may see terrible people thrive but often they are really suffering on the inside. Saturn often punishes by depriving you of peace of mind :/

Thomas Alva Edison, Anuradha Rising

In 1884, Nikola Tesla moved to New York City to meet Edison, who was famous for his low-voltage, direct-current electricity. Tesla believed the higher-voltage alternating current electricity was superior and suggested creating an AC-powered motor, but Edison claimed it was too dangerous. Instead, Edison promised the recent immigrant $50,000 (over $1 million today) if he could improve upon his DC generators, or “dynamos.”

After toiling for several months and making significant advances, he returned for his reward, only for Edison to say, “When you become a full-fledged American, you will appreciate an American joke.” Tesla quit—but the bullying didn’t stop there.

George Westinghouse had purchased Tesla’s patents and became the pioneering force behind AC power and its widespread implementation. Edison, who was ideologically and financially invested in his own DC power, began a publicity campaign against AC power. The campaign was ruthless; he wanted to prove that the high voltage of AC power was too dangerous for public use, so he and his cohorts began publicly electrocuting animals—stray dogs and cats, cattle and horses, and even, notoriously, “Topsy” the elephant. (you can hate me for pointing out how unevolved Saturnians abuse animals all you want but it will not stop it from being true<333)

The story gets worse. Edison was asked whether electrocution was a humane method of execution. In reply, he claimed that with Westinghouse’s AC power, it was indeed a humane and reliable execution. Westinghouse of course tried to prevent such an association, but Harold Brown, one of Edison’s employees, was hired by the state of New York to build the first electric chair. Obviously, he used AC power.

The execution—the first use of the electric chair—took place on August 6, 1890. AC power proved neither reliable nor humane. The first, 17-second-long charge failed to kill the man, an alleged axe murderer; after waiting for the generator to recharge and amping up the voltage, the next charge at last brought an end to the horrible, 8-minute long ordeal. Westinghouse, disgusted, reportedly said, “They would have done better with an axe.”

For his last two years, a series of ailments caused his health to decline even more until he lapsed into a coma and died at the age of 84.

Bo Burnham, Venus/Jupiter/Ketu in Pushya and Anuradha Rising

He does have a reputation for being a dick but I wanted to mention him because I think his sense of humour is VERY Saturnian. He has this tendency to humble his audience and its super Saturncoded to me. Like his whole shtick is serving you with a reality check in a slightly condescending way which is extremely Saturnian.

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He often makes "ironically" misogynistic jokes or whatever and its laced with that Saturnian bitterness except he's slightly self aware I guess.

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Aziz Ansari, Venus & Mars in UBP and Jupiter in Anuradha

Tbh other than the fact that his stand up comedy routines are hella lame, I dont really have much dirt on him.

However, he did sexually assault a woman in 2018 and nobody has heard much from him since tbh. I guess its an example of "instant karma".

Mads Mikkelsen, Anuradha Sun conjunct Ketu

Mads aka the man who made a career out of playing the bad guy

This isn't about Mads but about his most well known role, playing Hannibal Lecter.

Hannibal imo is very very Saturncoded

He is highly intelligent and cultured, with refined tastes and impeccable manners. He is deeply offended by rudeness, and often kills people who exhibit bad manners; according to the novel Hannibal, he "prefers to eat the rude". Hopkins described Lecter as the "Robin Hood of killers", who kills "the terminally rude".

Saturnians are either extremely refined or very unkempt. There is no in-between. You can always tell when someone has an imbalanced Saturn influence based on how disorderly, messy and chaotic they are.

In the novel Red Dragon, the protagonist, Will Graham, says that psychologists refer to Lecter as a sociopath "because they don't know what else to call him". Graham says "he has no remorse or guilt at all", and tortured animals as a child, (👀) but he does not exhibit any of the other criteria traditionally associated with sociopathy. Asked how he himself would describe Lecter, Graham responded, "he's a monster. I think of him as one of those pitiful things that are born in hospitals from time to time. They feed it, and keep it warm, but they don't put it on the machines and it dies. Lecter is the same way in his head, but he looks normal and nobody could tell."

Hannibal embodies the disciplined, orderly conduct of an evolved Saturnian along with the cruelty and harshness of it.

Charlie Puth, Anuradha Sun & Mars

half of this guy's discography is about how he hates women from LA. He literally has one song called "Nothing But Trouble (Instagram Models)" and it's just about how instagram models make problems. He has another song called "L.A. Girls" about how women in LA are fungible. It's like yeah maybe instagram models do suck but no one made you date them???

These are lyrics from the song LA Girls:

"There was Nikki, Nicole, Tiffany, and Heather But there's only room for you in my world But you say that I changed like the east coast weather How the hell did I get caught up? Messin' with these LA girls"

When I tell you the Madonna-Whore complex runs DEEP with Saturnian men. They will fool around with you and think of YOU as "cheap" for doing so and fall for the girl who never gives it up. The double standards of Saturnians are 🤮🤢

They will get frisky and frivolous with you and judge you for it :/

Woody Harrelson, Pushya Sun, Anuradha Moon

When I think of unkempt Saturnians, I think Woody Harrelson lmao

While filming in London in 2002, Harrelson found himself at a bar when two women approached him. According to the actor, the women asked if he wanted to "take a walk on the wild side." To which Harrelson replied, "I guess I do." A third woman joined in the fun, and the foursome returned to Harrelson's accommodations and enjoyed what the outlet described as "whatever-happened-next." Unfortunately for the Rampart star, "a paparazzo was able to snap a photo that soon hit the tabloids." The worst part — his then-girlfriend and future-wife Laura Louie saw these photos in the press. This "led to a good bit of groveling on Harrelson's part," and the couple worked past the incident.

I think I have noticed about manyyyy Saturnian men is that they often have enabler wives who put up with their shit + encourage it. Steve Jobs' wife, Laurene Powell was like that. Steve was such a perfectionist that he did not even buy furniture for their house and yk what?? she was okay with that lol and they remained married until his death even though literally everybody who has ever known him describes him as an asshole.

Woody Allen's still married to Soon Yi who is also entirely defensive about him. Same goes for Harrelson's wife I guess. How on earth does someone work past a foursome??? wtf

"I used to go to bars and fight the guys I thought were bullies. I've got scars everywhere," he revealed to The Hollywood Reporter. His fighting ways continued even after becoming a famous actor. Like when he once punched a reporter and claimed he thought the photographer was a zombie.

Saturnians never beating the abusive rumours 😩

On a different note, I've noticed how many Saturnian musicians make sad boy music with a ✨spiritual essence ✨

Sufjan Stevens is a UBP Moon

This is from a 2015 interview:

"I still describe myself as a Christian, and my love of God and my relationship with God is fundamental, but its manifestations in my life and the practices of it are constantly changing. I find incredible freedom in my faith. Yes, the kingdom of Christianity and the Church has been one of the most destructive forces in history, and there are levels of bastardization of religious beliefs. But the unique thing about Christianity is that it is so amorphous and not reductive to culture or place or anything. It's extremely malleable."

Tamino, UBP Moon

He said in an interview:

"We like to look at religious texts from all over the world, [and] they always share a lot of similarities. That's not because they necessarily influenced each other, it's more that our inherent experience as humans comes out through storytelling. It's awesome. So that's something that's really interesting: the story that we need to tell. And the stories that we tell will always survive longest. I think it sort of gives them a higher truth, a metaphysical truth, which makes religion quite beautiful to me. You don't have to necessarily believe in every little thing that's described in a book. I'm not a practicing believer—not in the classical sense. But I do have faith. I think a lot of people have faith without realizing [it]. Even waking up and starting your day, we all have like these little acts of fate throughout our lives without even noticing."

Hozier- Anuradha Moon

Faith is a big theme in their work and their lives and I feel like they are some evolved Saturnian men who have embraced the stoic spirituality of Saturn and poured it into their creativity.

In one interview, Hozier described Quakerism as a doctrine which taught him during childhood “to look for the God in each person” and “the spark of the divine that’s in every individual.” In particular, Hozier seeks this spark in his lover.

Its interesting to me how all 3 of them use religious metaphors often to speak of love because the ultimate form of love is devotion and Saturnians who have transcended the grips of limitations imposed by Saturn understand this more than anybody. They know what its like to love like their life depends on it.

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Arnold Schwarzenegger, Pushya Sun

Many Saturnians love to talk about working hard and kicking ass. Arnold is one of them, although I will say his preachiness comes from his Punarvasu stellium lmao

Arnold is a good example of a man who has worked very very hard and abided by every Saturnian principle to climb the ladder to the top. Yet he cheated on his wife with his housekeeper. He however did not deny paternity of the son he fathered with her. He has also expressed his regret about cheating and how he lost his marriage.

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Kim Kardashian, UBP Moon

She came under fire for her comments about "get your ass up and do the work" but honestly it's just Saturnian tough love

Kim is a good example of someone who has turned every single setback into a career opportunity. She is a true hustler. Obviously she's extremely privileged yada yada yada but she was Paris Hilton's assistant at one point and was at the bottom of the ladder. In 20 years she's built a fortune for herself and her family. Like, if it were Kourtney in Kim's place 🤡they wouldn't be where they are rn. Kim is a worker and its hard to deny that.

Rose- UBP Moon

In her interview with Vogue Australia, she said:

“I ended up fighting for my life, training for my life. Because I couldn’t accept the fact that I’d just be cut and sent back, so I had no time to slack off. I remember I took every minute and every second to work on my craft so that I [could] make it,”

“When I got [to Korea], I was like, ‘This is quite intense,’” she said of the early period of training. “I notice[d] that there [were] 12 other girls who had been training day and night for about five years. And I had just gotten there.” She feared that if she didn’t catch up to the other she would be cut and sent back to Australia, where she’d already told her school friends that she was dropping out to work on her music. "

“I [had] left and I didn’t want to fly back [to Australia] without having achieved anything,” she said of her worry at the time. “And I think it was a good drive. Just the fact that I had flown all the way from Australia gave me more strength [and] determination to strive.”

Hardworking Saturnians ✊🏼🙏🏼🧎‍♀️making the most of that Saturnian determination and reaping its rewards OOF

#vedic astro notes #sidereal astrology #astrology observations #astrology notes #nakshatras #vedic astrology #astro notes #astrology #astro observations #astroblr #saturn #anuradha #uttarabhadrapada #pushya #Youtube

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ssparksflyy · 6 months

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hii, this is my first time requesting and I’m not very good with English, so I’m a bit nervous but, I read the Leo Valdez x daughter of Athena and I loved it! So could I request for some general headcanons for Leo Valdez x daughter of Athena? Totally okay if you don’t have time or anything!

thank you so much 💗💗🥰

ask and thou shall receive ༉‧₊˚.

leo valdez dating hcs ! ° ༘⋆₊˚ෆ

pairing: leo valdez x daughter of athena!reader warning(s): none!! a/n: hii! tysm for requesting! i hope u enjoyed this, i love writing leo w a child of athena cause i can finally talk abt his smarts !!

nerd alert!!

its ok tho cause you guys are always able to help each other out when u have an issue with wtv ur working on

leo asks u for advice and ur opinions whenever hes working on a project

i feel like leo would be popular bcs he's a mf social butterfly

which means he knows everything abt everyone

that's why his hair is so big, its full of secrets

so while ur mapping out a plan for the next capture the flag game, you'll ask him if he thinks your plan could work based on how well people know each other

like ur not gonna put 2 ppl with beef by each other, cause then they'll end up fighting each other and not focus on the game

yk? yk.

ur smarts definitely compliment each other, and ut always trying to learn more about each other's interests

leo's definitely picked up some books in ancient greek about battle techniques and architecture

as have you on mechanical engineering

sometimes at the end of the day, when ur laying on the couch in bunker nine together, he'll ask you questions on architecture, just to hear u talk about things ur passionate about

he just loves seeing ur eyes light up and adores the way you practically talk with your hands as well

call me maybe crazy

but

athena would actually kinda like him ?!

she doesnt appreciate his constant jokes

but she thinks hes smart ( bcs he is ) and knows he makes u happy

hephaestus also rlly likes you

he likes anybody who shows his kids love lowkey

which means he likes you extra

if u were ever to get married, leo would 100% make your engagment ring, but hephaestus would me the one who would make you two the most beautiful wedding rings

its his way of showing he cares as a father

all of cabin 9 loves you

i feel like cabin 6 and 9 (omg 69) were already good friends, so they were ecstatic when they heard their fav mfs finally got together

i feel like in the flirting era it was a lot of spending time together, but just being unable to confess your feelings

now you still spend a bunch of time together, but dont rely on longing glaces and lingering touches

leo is the touchiest mf we all know this

but when u touch him?? the boy is in shambles

this sound a little strange but i promise i dont mean it like that

like yea he loves holding ur hand and kissing your knuckles

but when you kiss his knuckles?? hes a flustered mess

when he cups your cheek and you kiss the palm of his hand, he goes craaazzzyyyy

bouncing off the walls nd everything

he loves it when you tell him random little facts nd shit

ur literally his google

his go-to when he has a question

hes super proud of his smart gf ok ??

leo and percy actually get closer when you start dating

cause now they can both obsessively talk abt their genius gfs

and theyve evolved from the "my gf is smarter" "no my gf is smarter" fights

you and annabeth used to find their fights funny tho

annabeth is literally so supportive :))

she trusts leo and knows he makes you happy and has also obvi noticed how u light up his world

she still plays a semi-protective big sister role

like if shes leo getting a little to close, she'll shoot him one of her warning looks, and he'll move a little further away

but other than that she literally loves u guys :)

morse code is used quite often with you two

especially at night, when you dont want to break the comfortable silence, so you tap messages onto each other's backs.

or when your in a crowded room

or when your talking shit

before you met leo, you had only known a little bit of morse code but as you became closer, he taught you more nd more ♡

he loves it when you read to him

ur like his personal podcast

when you finsh reading a book together, u both write reviews about the book and have them all in a little notebook ♡

leo is for sure the type of guy to take pictures of you 24/7, 365

he has his all time favs taped up by his bunk in cabin nine and ofc has some of his bulletin board in bunker nine

he has the rest saved in a box, along with a bunch of other trinkets from dates u went on :))

you have a box like this yourself, filled with pictures of him, trinkets, and metal flowers he's made you ♡♡

oh and you for sure have a spot

you stumbled acrosss it while on your way to bunker nine and showed it to leo immediately

its a small clearing in the trees, where the sun shines through the leaves, and theres a small patch of flowers ♡

u have most of ur dates there, it ur special little place

leo is literally ur most perfect scholar bf fr ♡

a/n pt.2 : heyyy, i hope u enjoyed these hcs!! im trying out hair rollers overnight rn so its a little hard 2 lay down but we will manage! also heres a leo x child of athena moodboard that i did for my event :) anyway, have a good day/night!!

peace from manhattan,

percy jackson ♡

#percy jackson #pjo #heroes of olympus #percy jackson x reader #heroes of olympus x reader #pjo x reader #hoo x reader #leo valdez #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez x you #by bells ♡⋆ ࣪.

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lucifers-rubber-duck · 6 months

Note

Was wandering how the crew would react to a reader with animalistic beahavior (reader that acts like an animal something).

Like how a dog would be possessive of smt, tounge hanging out, suddenly extremely happy, or like a cat doing long stretches and sleeping in small conners.

P.S this is my first request and I really like your format of writing, keep up the good work 👍.(if you don't want to do this I completely understand, it is a rather strange request so no need to fell bad😗)

Characters: Charlie, Vaggie, Alastor, Husker, Angel, Niffty, Sir Pentious & Lucifer

Warnings: None.

A/N: That's a totally fine request! I'm glad you like my writing :} Thanks for the ask Anon and sorry for taking so long.

𖤓Charlie

• Finds you adorable, she enjoys your shenanigans and makes sure that you don't feel ashamed by them, it's something you can't control.

• She has experience with taking care of pets, like Kiki, Razzle and Dazzle; so she totally would make the space around you comfortable for you to act the way you want. I also think that Kiki would sometimes hiss at you for no reason but Charlie is trying her best to make Kiki like you more.

• She would ask if you were okay with her petting you sometimes, she's not malicious or anything, she just truly loves seeing how your face would immediately soften with her touch.

• Likes when you sleep close to her, all curled up in couch or in bed, your presence helps her relax when she ends up too stressed trying to make the hotel work.

𖤓Vaggie

• She's not the biggest animal enjoyer but wouldn't mind you doing your own thing. She does have some experience since she helped Charlie take care of her own pets but watching someone that was previously a human act like that makes her side-eye a few of your actions.

• Would be more helpful if your demon form is similar to a bird, if you had wings she would offer herself to peel your feathers and clean them up so you don't have to do it alone. She was a angel before and had to do the same things but she won't tell you that part.

• You would end up scaring her sometimes tho, she would be going down stairs to grab some water and she would see your figure just down the hall, eyes shining in the shadows as your head quickly turned to look at her, making it even more creepy. She stares at you for a few moments before slowly going back up without her water.

• That would keep happening until she just got used to it and started having midnight snacks with you, even falling asleep with you curled up around her in the couch, she suffers from insomnia and your presence makes her fall asleep easier, but she always wakes up earlier than you so you're always alone in the couch by the morning.

• Stills thanks you thought, in a way no one hears, she's too embarrassed to admit to everyone she has trouble sleeping but you don't mind keeping it a secret, especially when she's being way nicer to you.

𖤓Alastor

• Finds you amusing, I imagine him being rather surprised when he first saw you demonstrate your more animal side, probably thinking at first that you were stupid or something.

• He already likes to mess with Husker, treating him like an actual pet so you would be no different, you may not own your soul to him but living under the same roof means having to deal with his annoying treatment towards you.

• Would pull you around with him and present you to people as if you were his actual pet, ordering you around and making you fetch things for him. And he always talks with you in the most forced cute voice ever, now you get why Husker hates this guy.

• If you ever try to intimidate him by pretending you're going to bite him or something along those lines he'll simply give you a stern look and a slightly more forced smile before saying something along the lines of “What a fiesty one.”. To put it simple, he likes to make your life miserable and there's no way to get rid of him.

𖤓Husker

• He's also technically a animal, he looks more like a cat than he looks human at least and had to deal with controlling his instincts as well, he understand your struggles and will be there to help you control them.

• If your sinner form was more cat-like than he would find it easier to teach you but has advices for other animal related demon forms as well, he makes sure you feel good with yourself.

• But a few of his own animal behaviors would show up by default because you're there. He would rub his face against your arms, his ears would peark up when he hears your voice and there were multiple ocasions were you two feel asleep curled up around each other.

• But you do similar stuff as well so he feels less pathetic when letting his cat side win for a few minutes. Just never dare to talk about how he purrs around you, he'll have your head if you do so.

𖤓Angel

• He enjoys annoying you and making bad sexual jokes about your behavior (like calling you a pussy out of nowhere or something along those lines). He also totally would play pranks that would awaken your more animalistic side.

• Like, I imagine you're literally just chilling on the lobby's couch and then suddenly there's one of those cat lasers moving all around the place and you can't help but chase it around while he's laughing loudly in the background.

• Takes photos of you when you're not looking, but not normal distracted photos, he only takes them when you're doing something embarrassing. The only sweet photos he has of you are the ones you're with Fat Nuggets, be with him sleeping in your lap or just playing with him.

• Would probably buy you a dog-collar for your birthday as a prank, but it actually looks kind nice, being all decorated and having you name in the pendant so if you somehow don't feel too embarrassed to use it he would give you a sly smile before coming back to do whatever he does normally.

𖤓Niffty

• If you have any animal characteristics she'll totally stop everything she's doing to play with your tail/ears/wings or whatever you have, you're a walking fluff ball for her.

• Would insist on helping you bathe, she actually knows ways that not even you knew to keep your hair and fur/wings clean and soft. She would make sure you're all cleaned up.

• Would be more than pleased to receive dead animals if you bring them to her. She would make them onto furniture around the hotel and her room or just turn part of them into accessories.

𖤓Sir Pentious

• Secretly finds you adorable, like, have you seen the way he looked at Kiki when she sat on his lap? He's a total sucker for animals but pretends he isn't.

• You can catch his pupils growing bigger and his eyes shine while he looks at you do anything that resembles a small animal, like stretch yourself, get a sudden burst of energy or sit in high places at the hotel, he tries to play it cool when he notices you’re looking at him but is terrible at hiding that he was staring.

• Would build things for you if you asked him, sometimes without you even asking, for you to put out those animal instincts in more healthier ways insitead of on the hotel, and would keep it a total secret, he doesn't want to make you embarrased.

• He would ask, in a very timid way if he can pet you, if you ask why he wants to pet you he would probably say something among the lines of: “B-because I'm petting EVERYONE HERE!”

𖤓Lucifer

• He loves animals, he helped create some of them back in the days when he was still in heaven so he has a special place in his heart for them, if your sinner form has animal characteristics you can be sure he'll be orbiting around you in pure bliss.

• Asks you a lot of questions on how your body works, what's your diet, how much time it took for you to adjust, even more personal questions, he's kinda oblivious to the fact that you may be uncomfortable with them, he's just so curious (even more if you so happen to have a sinner form similar to a bird).

• Would have a special area designed just for you in his Apple Tower in the hotel where you like to hang out for a big part of the day, watching him build his ducks or anything else he's feeling like building that day. He eventually breaks the silence between him and you when he has a new question to ask but tries to let you be as much as possible.

• When you do anything that he remotely finds adorable, he will start talking in those sweet voices that you use to talk to pets or babies, he's not treating you like an actual animal, he just can't contain his adoration for your behaviors to himself, don't worry, he won't talk to you like that in public, not after he notice how uncomfortable you looked in front of the others. He'll save his reactions for when you two are just by yourselfs.

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girlboypersonthingy · 6 months

Note

Hazbin gals reacting to their s/o saying "I love you" for the first time? (totally not self-indulgent, not at all)

Hell Yeah, indulge baby!!! I love me some sapphic hazbin fluff. The only ‘gals’ I write for are Charlie, Vaggie and Velvette. I hope that’s cool 🙂 👍🏼 if anyone wants part two with other characters… *cough* Lucifer *cough* let me know 😙 ENJOY ANON~

TW: swearing, Vaggie in lingerie, Velvette gets a little assertive 😉 mostly fluff tho

Hazbin Gals- First ‘I Love You’s 💘

Charlie ❤️‍🔥

Sitting on one of the couches in the lobby of the hotel, you watch with a content smile as your girlfriend paces back and forth, rambling on about her plans to save sinners and her mixed feelings about having a meeting with heaven. Charlie takes a few steps and pivots around before taking a few steps the other way, her fingers nervously fiddling with each other all the while her smile never fading.

“I’m just…I’m feeling so…AH! Ya know?” She finally scurries over to you and plops down on the couch, resting her hand on your knee. “Well I’m very proud of you, babe.” You respond with a smile but your eyes are fixed on her hand on your leg right now. As she continues her ranting, her words start to sound more like a song, the actual words not computing in your brain any longer. It’s just her pretty voice accompanied by her gentle touch. As if you couldn’t lose focus anymore, her hand shifts a bit, further up your thigh.

Her words stop abruptly, the silence causing you to look up at her. Her smile shrunk just a bit as she watched you, tilting her head to the side, her long hair swaying as it followed her movements. “What’s up, babe? You look like you’ve got something on your mind.”

“I-I uh…I love you.” It tumbles from your lips before you can stop it, before your brain can even register that you are speaking right now. The damage is done. All you can do now is stare at the gorgeous blonde in front of you with wide, expectant eyes and a worried, tight-lined frown on your lips.

Her face was…hard to read. Which is strange because the princess was usually so loud and dramatic and over exaggerated and so animated with her facial expressions. But this expression was one you’d never seen before. Her mouth was hanging open slightly, revealing her pearly white fangs. Her light yellow eyes were wider than you’ve ever seen them and the apples of her cheeks were nearly glowing red.

“Charlie? You…okay?” And like a switch being flipped, her expression changes completely. Now, her eyes are squinted up tight due to her huge, giddy grin. She’s holding her hands together tightly, slightly bouncing in her spot in front of you, soft giggles starting to sound from her.

“AWWWWW (Y/N)~” Charlie drags out saying your name, diverting her gaze elsewhere then bitting her lip shortly after. “I love you too. WOW!!! It feels so good to say that out loud and know you feel the same.” Her pale hands reach out for yours, squeezing your hands slightly as she looks into your eyes. “I love you.” She repeats at a much lower volume, making sure the words really sink in. Then she yanks you forward, wrapping you in a tight hug as soft giggles and dreamy sighs leave both your lips.

You’re not sure when she started crying because her body was once shaking from happy laughter and now, her body shakes as a soft gasp sounds from her, sniffling following shortly after. You pull away quickly to see her still sporting a big, goofy smile but with tears running down her cheeks. “You-you really l-l-love me…? AWW WWHAAAAA.”

Good job. You’ve reduced the princess of hell to a puddle of happy tears right in your lap. What else did you expect from the drama queen herself? Get ready for an all night cuddle session, complete with on and off kissing and crying.

Vaggie ⚔️

“Hey, hun. Good morning…” Vaggie mumbled softly to you as she groggily strolled towards you. This was a daily occurrence, a normal start to your morning- both of you getting ready in your own rooms then meeting in the lobby to say ‘good morning’ and then continue your day together. You had been dating for a good minute now but still haven’t moved into the same room. You decided a small boundary would be good for now until the relationship feels ready to move forward.

Today, a Saturday, you both thought it’d be fun to stay in your pajamas and have a lazy day. There were no solid plans today and you’ve been missing your girl so when you brought it up to her last night, Vaggie was more than happy to spend a lazy day with you. But holy hell…you’re at a loss for words when you realize her pajamas weren’t just pajamas. She had this absolutely gorgeous little white nighty on, a thin silky dress that barely covered her crotch and ass, hardly leaving anything to the imagination. Was she wearing it for this occasion, just to impress you? Or…is this what she always wears to bed?

All your blood rushes to your face within seconds, even your ears were fire red as your eyes stayed stuck to her frame in that night dress. She normally dressed pretty feminine and cute but you never expected her to wear such adorable lingerie to bed. Vaggie seemed to catch on immediately, looking down at herself briefly before looking back at you with down turned lips and furrowed brows. “Too much?”

“Oh shit, I-I’m sorry. No! Just caught me off guard with your…pajamas. You’re just so cute. Shit, sorry, lemme stop talking now.” You couldn’t bring yourself to look away, eyes frantically scanning over her small but toned little body. You felt like such a perv, suddenly looking away and trying to hide your embarrassed and ashamed face in your hands.

Vaggie sympathizes, understanding that you’re flustered but also very into her but also trying not to stare. She steps closer, gently grabbing both your hands in hers. She lifts both your hands up and gently interlaces her fingers between yours. Your clasped hands were sweaty as hell against hers, making her smile grow a little bigger. “I can go change.” She mumbles softly, her eyes scanning your expression, waiting for you to make eye contact with her again.

All you could muster up is a low hum in response as you shake your head ‘no’. “Oh so you like it then?” She steps even closer, her barely clothed body nearly pressed against yours now. You swallow thickly, your lip quivering ever so slightly as you inhale, scrambling to find the words to reply to her.

“Oh y-yeah, I love it actually! I love you.” Your hand comes to your mouth as if trying to shove those last three words back in. You can’t help but stutter your way through a second response, but Vaggie throws her own reply in as well. “You do?” Vaggie is nearly whispering now, watching as you panic. “Fuck! No, that’s not what I meant. I mean-Well, wait…I-I…” She can tell you’re malfunctioning and probably very close to imploding in on yourself as you decide what is the right thing to say next. You shake your head vigorously, waving your hands in the air as if trying to clear your foggy brain. When you finally take a breath and look back to her face, Vaggie is smiling sweetly, looking as though she might just melt straight down into the carpet below you.

“Oh, (Y/N/N)~ I love you too.” She closes in on you fully, her arms quickly finding themselves comfy around your neck, her blushy face just inches from yours now. “Hmm…you think it’s too much for everyone else to see?” She has a smug smile on her face now. She was trying to tease you at this point, seeing just how far she could take this before you’re collapsing into her arms.

“Are you suggesting we go some where more private?” You try to flirt back but your voice cracks and you can’t maintain eye contact for longer than a second or two. Your attempt at flirting yanks a loud laugh from her, making her throw her head back momentarily before she pulls back and grabs your hand. She begins leading you towards her room, replaying your voice in her head over and over as you said ‘I love you’. She’s gonna ask you to say it again once you’re in private.

And you just can’t stop glancing down at her barely covered ass and her fully exposed legs in that cute nighty as you follow behind her. I mean who can blame you?

Velvette 💀

Your girl is going off right now, having just gotten into some stupid fight with Valentino. You’re so super sure he’s the most toxic being you’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting and it irked you even more that he was her business partner, her roommate. This is a regular occurrence- Val barging into Velvette’s studio drunk as hell, yelling and smoking the whole room up. And every time, Velvette gets pissed and instantly starts spewing rude names and swear words at him. It’s honestly pretty frightening to have to sit back and watch, eyes darting back and forth between them as you cower in your seat, knowing that if you even try to intervene you might end up double dead.

But now, Val has been gone and out of sight for at least ten minutes now but Velvette is still completely irate. She’s now sitting beside you on a couch, just the two of you taking up space in the studio. You watch as she rants and rambles, her expression full of rage, her voice booming with a slight growl to it. You weren’t sure how to talk her down from this one, you don’t think you’ve ever seen her so…stressed.

You decide maybe a gentle touch would help pull her attention to you so you can further try to calm her and get her mind off Val. As your hand slips into hers, she holds it firmly but continues to vent, telling you all about her feelings. “Like what a fucking dickhead! Ugh! I don’t storm into his studio and interrupt his fuck fest.” Your other hand moves to join the one that’s already holding Velvette, gently rubbing up and down her arm. “Yeah, Im sorry, V. He’s the worst…”

Still, Velvette is talking at a rapid pace but her voice has become much softer, her face seeming to relax a bit as her eyes move to focus on the gentle hand on her arm. “Is there…anything I can do to calm you?” You try to interject, hoping to stop her train of thought from going crazy and derailing. “No, darling. No. It’s alright. I’m sorry you have to see me get so nasty and ugly like this. I just can’t control my temper sometimes. Oh, I’m so ashamed.” She turns her face away from you- this is a side of Velvette you’ve never seen before. She gets mad often, she does have a fiery temper and you’ve seen that well enough by now but you both know she’s never been this pent up and pissed off. The more she calms down, the more insecure she becomes…a side of Velvette no one has ever seen.

“Oh, no! Don’t apologize. I know you’re not yelling at me, you’re more…yelling to me. It’s good to vent, to get it all out. Don’t worry, babe. I love you-“ and her head turns so fast, you’re concerned about her neck for a second. It’s almost like she processed your words before you did. “Did…you just say you love me?” She leans back, not to get away from you but to get a better look at your face right now.

And now you’re burning up, feeling sweat start to form under your arms and on your forehead. Oh and your hands? Yeah, They’ve been sweaty! “Uh no, no…I uh…” You can’t even come up with an excuse or any kind of comeback before Velvette is on the move, slowly crawling over you with a devious smirk on her thin lips…excruciatingly slow…

“Nah ah ah. Don’t lie to me, darling.” She continues her pursue on you, pushing you back into the couch as she towers over you now, her hands on your wrists as she pins them back against the cushions. “Say it again.” With her so close to you, fully on top of you now, it’s becoming extremely difficult to avoid her gaze or try to escape the situation. “C’mon, I wanna hear it again.” She teases, leaning in to gently tap her nose on yours. Your breath catches in your chest, your stomach feeling warm and bubbly as you close your eyes, focusing in on her soft breaths wafting across your lips.

“I love you…” You finally get it out again, not daring to open your eyes. You’re pretty sure if you opened your eyes and looked up at Velvette right now, you’d completely erode away from embarrassment right before her eyes, just a pile of dust. Hearing the words again sends a jolt of electricity to Velvette’s brain and all her courage suddenly swells in her gut and she leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. It’s quick and soft and somehow better than every other kiss you’ve ever shared. Maybe it’s just the heat of the moment.

Finally, she got you to open your eyes again. The shocked look on your face makes her want to go even harder, tease you even more, turn you into a bright red jittery idiot right here right now. “I love you too, my darling little angel baby.” Velvette loves to call you that, she figures she’s more evil you’re more good, you balance each other out, yin and yang. Aaand yep! She was right, calling you cute pet names would break you even further.

Velvette sits back on the couch, cackling, gasping for air, trying her best to keep her eyes open through the tears so she can see your face. She’s not making fun of you…but she’s kinda making fun of you. She’s so very flattered you love her but you get so jumpy and shy when she presses you like that, she can’t help but take advantage sometimes. She adores the hell out if you and often wonders how a soft, gentle, kind heart like yours could truly be in love with a heart like hers.

“I love you more, (Y/N).”

Aaannddd cue the make out sesh

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sakiblack · 5 months

Text

soft yandere tsutey

Tsutey x reader

-----------------------------------------------

I would imagine you came to Pandora with Jake. Being his sister or just someone who has trained for Pandora does not matter.As long as you somehow got there.

Tsutey is a cold man and he would not show you that in his heart you have a spacial place.He would see you for the first time with Neytiri and Jake while she was trying to get you two to the home tree.Does he stare at you like he could kill you? yes. But in his eyes you are spacial.From the start he wanted you with him. All the time.

You are a human you dont know their ways. And he will teach you.

And teach you he did. Maybe he yells and scolds you a lot but trust me he would kill for you.The first thing he would teach you is how to ride the (horse thing).He would go out of his ways to get you the most calm horse they had. He cant have you falling off now could he?

Talking with him would be strange. At first you probably didnt even know he speaks english. It was the second day with the clan, he was teaching you how to ride. Some of his students were talking while you got on the horse.He walked up to you paced his hand on your thigh to make your grip tighter.Looking at the navi that were whispering something Tsutey said something out of nowhere.

"They are not making fun of you"

He said in a deep voice. It has been some time since he said anything in english so he hoped he did it right.

"You can speak english?"

Oh how happy he was to hear your voice.

"Yes"

A simple response that started your "friendship".

He usualy didnt start the talks with you. It usualy had to be you. He wanted you to need him even tho he was probably the one needing you the most.

Jake is not a problem for him as long as he does not touch you.The first time he showed just how much he cared was when Jake was teasing you about being short even in the avatar. Now that would not be bad at all if Jake didnt touch your shoulder for a little too long.

He would hiss something in navi and push him away from you. Not you or Jake would understand it but Neytiri did and it made her smile.

Neytiri was long forgotten after you came in his life. He already did not love her that much but when you came she was just a clan member.So there was nothing for you to be jealous of. But as time went on and he spented more time with you, you two became a lot more then friend. Touching you was a normal thing and giving you gifts was as well. At the start he gived you meat but when he saw your scared face he went for another tactic. Flowers,food,bracelets everything that a normal human would give you.Sometimes he even flirted tho it did end up in him messing up.

Time would fly by fast and before you knew it you would be staning on top of the flying mountains. As Neytiri was explaining everything to Jake Tsutey was only looking at you. He didnt want you to do this. You could get hurt or worse.But if you wanted to become one of the people this was something you had to do.

"Be calm,when you will see him you will know"

He said softly as he petted your shoulder.

"How will i know he wants me"

"He will want to kill you"

Did he say it like it was nothing? yes. But at least he would be there to save you.

If he thought seeing you ride the horse was beautiful , seeing you on the ikran was out of the world.You two would wly till the end of the night.

Now unlike Neytiri Tsutey did not wait for you to become one of the people before making you his. It would be the night you got your ikran or the night after. You two would be sitting somewhere probably talking before he would move his face into your neck like he was taking in your scent.And that was all it took for him to lose it.He already had to control himself for so long he could not do it anymore.

Would he be gentle at least at the start he would.

Biting marks are a thing. Marking you is something he cant live without. He never explained mating to you. He wanted to tell you about it while he was showing you just how much he loved you.

While he would make you feel good he would say things like

"Now you are all mine", "We are banded together", "Only i will make you fill this way"

Nicknames were not a thing untill now. He woul call you things like love,yawne or even just mine or my girl/boy.

As i said him being jealous was not something that happened a lot. But after your "fun night" tigether noone could even look at you the wrong way. he was by your side all the time. Even while your avatar body was sleeping he was looking over you.

It would even come to the point he would come to the flying mountains while they were prepering for the big fight to make sure you were okay. Seeing your human body would just make fall for you again so when you were laying under the spirit tree he was saying bye to the body you were ment to live in.If it was on him he would keep you in the human body but there was no way you could survive.

But even if that was the life you were supposed to have being with him was the life that you cant run away from.

.......................,..........................,........................

sorry for any words spelled wrong i was in a hurry

hope you liked it tho

#avatar way of water #avatar #awow #avatar x reader #tsutey x reader #tsutey #avatar tsu'tey

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nahoney22 · 8 months

Note

Hello, Sunshine! Congrats on the 4000!! I'm honoured to count myself between those 🙌🏼

I would like to make a request, so I can join in the festivities. I've been thinking hard to give you something nice, and suddenly an idea struck me, so I humbly offer it to you:

Female reader/Tech (no surprise here, right?), pre-relationship, for some accidental reason (up to you) Tech touches her hair/skin gloveless, and he becomes fascinated by how soft it is (he is a soldier, but I'm sure he appreciates fine things), and I'm picturing him here with a slightly addictive personality, so he starts touching and petting her, kind of absent-mindedly while he is working, or she goes next to him (or at that same moment, tho, whatever fits you better). Reader starts getting flustered because those fingers, am I right. I can see a NSFW ending, but if it doesn't come to you, it's fine.

I would just love to see this idea played out in your style!

Thank you so much! And more than anything, have fun!

Just A Little More***

Tech X F!Reader

word count: 3k

Tech had never struck you as the touchy-feely type so why is it when he asks you to do repairs for him that he just can’t keep his hands to himself and how can you get his hands to move elsewhere?

warnings: NSFW 18+ only. Explicit sexual content and language, non established relationship, accidental caressing, slightly touchy-feely Tech but SFW, first kiss, skin kisses, Intercrural sex (thigh sex/thigh job), handjob, minor nipple play, friends to lovers. Not proofread.

authors note: Thank you for the request my beautiful @doublesunsets and apologies for the huge wait! Hope this is okay🤍

You're feeling perplexed.

Though, It's not necessarily an unusual sensation since joining The Bad Batch and adapting to their peculiar ways of living and combat. However, your current confusion reached a peak a few days back.

Tech had summoned you beneath the ship for repair assistance and out of nowhere, he began tracing his fingers along your forearm. You looked at him, then your arm, and then back at him as he remained absorbed in his task, and for some reason, you refrained from questioning his actions. You gathered that perhaps he was so engrossed in his task that he didn't realise he was touching you, and so you dismissed it as an accident.

Yet, it persisted. He continued seeking your help, tasks usually assigned to Echo, and despite assigning you a task, his hand consistently found its way to your arm, fingers casually brushing against your skin. It was peculiar but not entirely unwelcome.

This routine persisted for a week until the last occurrence compelled you to finally seek an explanation.

One evening in the confined space of your bunk, your face bathed in the dim glow of your datapad's screen when a message notification from Tech pops down. The request for assistance in the cockpit sparks a strange sensation in your chest – a mix of nerves and intrigue, perhaps. Without letting him wait for a response, you place the datapad down and traverse through the ship.

Upon entering the cockpit, the soft hum of the machinery surrounds you. But there in the pilot's seat is Tech, immersed in his own datapad, donned in his underarmour wear. The steady rhythm of his fingers tapping on the screen adds to the ship's ambient sounds and your footsteps echo softly as you approach.

Hearing your approach, Tech glances up, pushing his goggles up his nose with a subtle yet distinct motion. "Ah, there you are.”

"Here I am," you respond with your hands on your hips, a hint of awkwardness in your voice as a sudden wave of shyness washes over you. But non-surprisingly, Tech doesn't seem to notice.

He goes ahead and explains the task at hand—helping with wiring under the control panel. Following the usual protocol, you swiftly retrieve the necessary tools and gloves. As you slide on your gloves, you notice Tech doing the opposite, peeling his off, a recurring behaviour over the last few days.

With your curiosity getting the better of you after the last few days, you inquire, "What are you doing?" His confusion is evident as he looks at you, brows furrowed. When you gesture to his now bare hands, your gloved ones drawing attention, he seems momentarily flustered.

"Oh... I am not too sure," he mumbles, hastily putting the gear back on before moving toward the control panel, ready to slide underneath.

His genuine confusion hints that it might be learned behavior—perhaps he grew accustomed to the contact, and the lack of questions made it a norm. So, setting aside these thoughts, you join him under the control panel, observing his nimble fingers at work with the wires. Although his explanations might be slipping past your ears, you find enjoyment in watching him in his element. As you assist with holding the wires and passing over tools, a subtle but palpable shift in the air suggests that something feels different.

A subtle warmth builds beneath your clothes, and you attribute it to the close proximity to Tech, though the unfamiliar mix of nerves and intrigue from before confuses you even more.

The absence of his gentle touches leaves you feeling somewhat adrift, and a part of you yearns for that contact once again. It's a peculiar sensation, considering he seemed unaware of it all.

Caught in your internal questioning, Tech, too, is in a trance of his own. His nimble fingers have paused in their task, and instead, he's captivated by the scent and touch of your hair brushing against his cheek. With your head tilted to the side, loose strands cascade down, lightly grazing over his cheek.

He knows the smell.

It’s the hair care product you had begged him to add to the list of resources once in a supply run because as you once said ‘if I’m gonna kick arse, I want my hair soft, shiny and smelling good in the process’. And for some reason, he said yes. Maybe he was soft on you or maybe it was because you constantly asked and he was getting a headache.

He wasn’t sure but what he did know was that it was soft.

And shiny.

And smelt beautiful.

The moment holds a certain intimacy, yet neither of you seemed to notice eachothers reactions; both of you lost in your own thoughts.

Tech swiftly resumes his task, jolting into action after a subtle shift from you beside him, and a focused silence envelops the cockpit. You exhale softly, attempting to steady your breathing and cool the warmth beneath your clothes. Blinking, you glance away from his hands, awkwardly holding the small screwdriver he had asked you to handle a few moments ago.

As he finishes, both of you slide out from under the control panel. Surprisingly, you find Tech standing there with his now ungloved hand outstretched towards you.

Pausing for a moment, you look at his hand and then to him, a curious desire to test his reaction arising. Deciding to slip your gloves off first, the motion seems to momentarily freeze him. His throat bobs as he swallows hard, and you seize the opportunity to slip your bare hand into his outstretched one.

His hand is warm, perhaps a bit sweaty, but the touch feels natural, fitting. With a gentle tug, he helps you onto your feet, but instead of releasing your hand, he continues to hold it. His gaze fixates on your intertwined hands, and his thumb lightly brushes over your skin, sending a subtle thrill through you.

As your heart quickens and the warmth intensifies, your eyes remain fixed on his face, searching for clues.

Unable to wonder any longer, you break the silence with a whispered yet firm question, "What's going on, Tech?" His trance is broken, and he shifts his gaze from your hand to your eyes. With a clearing of his throat, he attempts to conjure an excuse to leave the cockpit, but as he moves past you, you grab his arm, pulling him to a halt.

"I don't think so. Tell me what this is about.” The air is charged with anticipation as you await his response.

"Well, alright," he starts, turning back to face you but struggling to meet your gaze. "Would you believe me if I said I did not know?"

You blink at him but offer a small smile, "Tech, I'd believe you if you said this whole planet was made out of cheese."

Seeing him relax, you notice a slight smile as he moves to lean against the control panel, folding his arms over his chest. "I suppose my only reasoning behind it is that I am not used to such contact. Nor am I used to touching something… soft."

You raise a brow, slightly amused, but a small flutter stirs in your chest at his words. "You think my hands are soft?"

"Yes," he admits, a subtle raspiness in his tone, "immensely."

The heat of the blush intensifies as Tech's sweet compliments linger in the air, leaving you somewhat flustered. Your attraction to him, always present, takes on a new depth as you watch him work up close and feel his touch.

His words almost make you crumble, and you find yourself at a loss for a proper response, opting instead for a playful comment about the soap bar you use.

"Ah yes, I have seen it in the refresher," he notes, his hands now behind him, gripping the edge of the control panel. His fingers strum somewhat nervously, creating a subtle melody in the air.

Nervously chewing on your lip, the action doesn't escape Tech's notice as his skin grows warm as you both stand in an awkward silence, unsure of the next move. It's you who takes the initiative, closing the distance with a step closer.

"You know, you can carry on touching me if it makes you feel better," you suggest, and Tech's eyes slightly widen.

"It is not an action that makes me feel 'better,' so to speak," he explains, visibly relaxing, "but it is just a sensation that I have been enjoying. If it made you feel uncomfortable in any way, you should tell me."

A soft giggle escapes you, and this time, you come to a stop directly in front of him. Gently reaching for his hand, you bring it into your own. "If I had a problem with it, I would've said. I also wouldn't be doing this."

The touch carries a subtle yet intentional message, one that surprisingly resonates with Tech. Not known for his overt emotional responses, he acknowledges the unspoken connection between you two. "I suppose not," he nods, standing tall. His fingers trace over yours, a silent exploration mapping every scar and freckle.

“They are so soft.” He mumbles more to himself than he does to you, seemingly in a complete trance.

You watch him, like you had done for the last few days and you can’t help but feel like you’ve read the situation between you both correctly. So, summoning your courage just above a whisper you say, “I’m pretty soft in other places too.”

He halts for a moment, meeting your gaze with wonder. “I can not lie and say that that did not sound arousing… and inviting.”

You raise a brow, a cocky yet enticing smirk on your lips. “Maybe it was an invitation?”

Tech has no words, he doesn’t know what else to say but instead watches as you take a step back from him and start to pull your shirt away from your body.

You stand in front of him, shirtless.

He didn't need Hunter's senses for this; he could smell you, almost taste you. Your skin had a glow amidst the dim lights of the ship, and his nostrils filled with the faint mist of your soap.

The subtle aroma encapsulated the moment, heightening the sensory experience as his eyes continued to explore the intricate details of your body. The air in the cockpit seemed charged with a connection that was too intense to deny.

“You are beautiful.”

Your eyes shine at his words and you naturally move back towards him, his hands instinctively moving to your waist where you inhale a sharp gasp, your skin tingling at his touch alone. “Do you want me, Tech?”

His fingers trail along your skin and you see him dab his lips idly with his tongue. “More than I have ever wanted anything before.”

Grinning, you nod for him as a go ahead as you lean yourself against the console as his hold on you tightens, dexterous fingers dancing against your skin until they land at the buckle of your pants, a teasing tug suggesting he wanted to see all of you.

“Go ahead,” you rasp, mouth salivating as Tech hums in approval and helps you slide your pants down to your ankles.

Cool air hits your skin followed by the warmth of his hand moving down to the curve of your arse, muttering something quietly to himself which has you giggling under his touch.

“Something amusing?” He quips, hands moving from your arse to your breasts, fondling them gently.

“This is the quietest I’ve seen you is all.”

Chuckling he says, “When I am in deep thought, experiencing my desires, I tend to fall quiet.”

“Desire, hm?” You purr. Tech slowly begins circling you, letting his trained hands, so often equipped with his datapad, tools, blasters now caress every single inch of your nude skin. With a grasp at your hips, your back is dragged to his chest, his hands on the soft skin of your stomach.

“Desire…fascination…lust…” he grins as you gasp, his hands cupping both of your breasts, your head lolling back into his shoulder.

“Tech,” you whine, legs trembling as his fingers brush over your stiffening nipples, pinching them between his fingers.

“Yes, dear? Do you like this sensation?” He breathes down your ear, lips brushing against your lobe before they move to your shoulder, a sweet kiss planted.

“Mm, yeah- s’good.” You wriggle against him, your arse pressed to his solid cock.

He sighs against you in pleasure, playing with your tits as you move your hands behind you, cupping him between his legs, heart racing as you gather how big and ready he was for you.

“I can help with that.” He grunts as he moves one hand away from you, tugging himself out of his pants so you can get a firm hold and as your hand grips his heated length he lets out a beautiful whine of his own.

“Fuck,” Tech ruts agaisnt your soft hand, everything he had been wanting to feel around his cock becoming reality. He finally spins you to face him, nearly knocking you off your feet as his lips crash to yours, desperate and full of passion.

“You’re wonderful.” His groan is guttural, lips moving from yours down your neck, over your collar bones until they latch to one of your nipples, sucking and ever so gently biting at the peaks before he laves his tongue flat against your flesh.

You curse, his pace slow and tantalising as his hand strokes your other breast, feeling its weight in his hand and thumbing your plump nipple.

Clit throbbing with an unmet need for attention, you cry out his name and he removes his mouth with a small pop, he places a tender kiss to your lips.

“Can I try something?” You are flushed against him, cock pressing to your stomach and you nod eagerly.

“Of course.”

He grinds his hips against you softly for a moment, there was no set rhythm and was based entirely on instinct and desperation alone. His hands bite your hips as he kisses your neck and shoulder, earning quiet, content hums in response.

His hands dug between his and your stomach. “Just let me—“ he takes a hold of his cock, wet and leaking, before pressing it between your thighs.

“Ah, fuck, so soft.” He choked, pushing his goggles up his nose which had fallen slightly down.

His hips start to thrust, dragging his dick against your thighs and more noticeably against your folds. “Tech…” you whimper in satisfaction, heart pounding against your chest.

“Just a little more, darling.” The whines, pants and groans that leave his throat are pure filth to the ears, his movement so erratic that you had to hold onto his shoulders to keep you standing as your thighs swallow his throbbing tip entirely. His grip on your waist tightens at every increasing pace.. “J-Just… a little more.”

He fucks your thighs beautifully, tip prodding agaisnt your clit with every movement. You’re pent up. He is definitely pent up as you both dive into another kiss and you quietly beg him for more.

“You can fuck me, Tech… you can have all of me.” You bite against his lower lip, earning a low growl and a harsh thrust in return.

“I’ll fuck you properly, I promise.” His words held, like he said, a promise but you knew he just had to fuck your thighs just a little bit more, you knew he had to feel the softness of your skin he had been admiring for however many days now. “I’ll fuck you so good I just… I just need to cum all over your thighs. Just this once.”

Your sex burns in desire and although you knew you won’t get what you crave, you had to give in to Tech. You had to let him slap his cock on your soft skin, sliding in and out of your squeezed together legs until he was panting and swearing.

Lewd sounds fell from your lips, a sharp gasp as Tech repositioned your legs just a tad so his cock nuzzled against the right spot.

Your eyes fell closed, threatening to roll back into your skull. One hand frees your waist but makes it way into your hair, fingers entwined with the soft tassels and fingernails massaging your scalp. “Such a pretty girl.”

You bury your face in the crook of his neck, your orgasm building with every pressure added to your pussy and judging by Tech’s staggered movements, the shift of his weight on his feet you knew he was close too. “Ah- fuck, I’m going to-.”

His words fall flat as you feel a sudden warmth grow between your legs. A lewd squelching noise followed by his soft whines. “That’s it darling,” his words are slurred as he paints your legs with his seed but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he holds you close and cradles you in his arms as he feels your body twitch and whispers for you to let it go.

Your hands fly to between your legs, your fingers coating in his cum as you begin to strum your clit with vigour until you were shouting his name aloud, letting it bounce off the walls of the ship as you tremble on his softening cock.

You stumble back, but Tech catches you swiftly, cooing soft words of assurance as stars briefly blur your vision. "I have you, do not fret. You will not fall."

You laugh lazily, a drunk-like smile gracing your lips. "I trust you, don't worry."

His warm smile reassures you, and he announces his intention to return with a flannel to help clean you up—a pleasant surprise. Once cleaned up, he pulls you into his lap as he sits down.

His lips trail down your spine, fingers delicately dragging across the canvas of your back. It's a blank slate, a myriad of possibilities for designs he could plan, but for now, he simply savors the feeling of your beautiful, warm skin. The quiet intimacy envelops the two of you and you look over your shoulder at him to gauge his reaction to what just happened.

"So, that was something," you laugh softly, cuddling into the warmth of his chest. "I never thought I'd see that side of you."

"And I never would have thought you would ever experience that side of me. It's different from how I usually conduct myself, but around you, I felt as though I could be open. Honest."

It's a rare glimpse of Tech being open with his feelings, and you're grateful that even after a moment of intimacy, he doesn't shut you out. There's something unspoken between you both, a desire to explore this newfound feeling for another.

For now, you say nothing, letting him hold you, allowing his mind to drift away from battle plans, ship repairs, and survival. It’s the least you could do.

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