#A Glimmer of Excellence
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augment-techs · 1 year ago
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@lordkingsmith
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my favorite fic trope 
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augment-techs · 1 year ago
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https://www.tumblr.com/lordkingsmith/735276612313022464/given-power-rangers-has-alter-reality-kids-for-kim
And if you’ve got further suggestions for Kim or wanna toss some in general for Tommy or Kat or well. Anyone, I’ll deliver~ the canon kids I’ll give my thoughts on as I go as well
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....I will have to read and re-read all of this, but, like, DAMN. You do good work with the little things. Respect~
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divinekangaroo · 6 months ago
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...man I've really hit that stage of Old Womanhood where I seriously contemplate and long for novelisations of existing gaming / televised media? :/
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phoenixlionme · 30 days ago
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"I am a main protagonist in a popular, Netflix originated series, which is popular with the LGBT community. I come from the main royal family in said series, and while I can live a life of luxury, I choose to fight for good. I lost one parent either before or during the series, which profoundly affected me. I am a complex character, but I am often unfairly mischaracterized by a certain section of my show's fandom. And while my worse or morally questionable actions can't be ignored, I take accountability and will do my best to fix my mistake. My parent was murdered, and I was thrusted into a life of duty I was not fully prepared for. I forgave my parent's killer, or the person responsible for their death even if they didn't directly murder them. I also live in a fantasy setting". Who am I?
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augment-techs · 1 year ago
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@lordkingsmith
Have you heard of the sooty owl? They are frightening and their eyes are probably hell portals.
i DID actually while i was looking up owls a while back oh MAN they have incredible faces, like some kinda confused ghost who ended up in a bird and now just has to live with it
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looks like they come in lesser and greater sooty flavors, and theyre both pretty similar except for their sizes (about 43 cm for the greater, 37 for the lesser)
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theyre like someone took a barn owl and just lowered the brightness, threw some speckles in there, made their eyes a direct portal to the infinite nightmarish abyss, called it a day
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the YOUNG SOOTY OWLS on the other hand dont even look like real animals. they look like someone made a dodo out of felt and accidentally left it in a dryer. owls are great
(photos from x  x  x)
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tomwambsmilk · 2 years ago
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really curious to see how people's finale opinions will develop once we get some distance.... personally I feel like I'm still reeling so hard from the gut-level emotional response that it's difficult to really assess or analyze it esp. within the framework of the whole show and I kind of wonder if others feel the same
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OK so I know it says duo but could an argument be made for multiple besties? Eg, animorphs, or adora, bow, and glimmer?
Someone else submitted Animorphs characters as a group, so you wouldn't be alone! I might give groups a slightly lower priority when it comes to selecting, but I'm not against including them in the bracket, so feel free to submit them!
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supercutszns · 10 months ago
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twin beads | luke castellan
wc + pairing: 6.7k, luke x daughter of poseidon! reader
synopsis: you’ve been unclaimed for five years. you’ve loved your best friend even longer. the sea used to be your greatest solace, but after percy jackson comes to camp, it’s your cruelest reminder. (based on this ask!)
warnings: best friends to lovers <3, percy/reader sibling dynamic, fluff and angst then fluff again, hurt/comfort, shameless making out. sorry this one is so long but besties to lovers is my lifeblood!!! i get so attached!! designated song is true blue by boygenius:)
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i. you said you wanted to feel alive, so we went to the beach
“Ahoy, sailor!”
The familiar voice ricochets across the lake. You turn, leaving glimmers of sun behind you as you stare back at the docks of Camp Half-Blood. An orange blob with a curly mop of hair is beckoning you. You laugh, wave back at him, and plunge into the water. It cools your face after staying above the surface for so long—you just love watching the light reflected off the waves. But the second you’re under the water, the soreness in your muscles, the heat on your face, the exhaustion from treading for so long, are washed away from you. You swim with precision and vigor, relishing the feel of the river cupping your limbs to spur you forward. Not to sound lame, but you fucking love swimming. 
But maybe not as much as you love your best friend. 
He laughs when your head pops out of the water at the edge of the dock. “Wow, that took you longer than usual,” he teases, brown eyes glinting in the dawn. “You getting sloppy?”
You huff, splashing some water up at him but it barely touches him. “I’m tired, you moron. I’ve been out there for an hour.”
Luke leans down at the edge of the dock, offering you a hand. His face is bemused when you latch onto him, and with a good flex of his bicep he pulls you up. “All right, c’mon,” he grunts.
All your energy evaporates the second your body’s out of the water. You’re far too lazy to be graceful, so you sprawl out onto the dock like a dying fish, letting the sun kiss every inch of you. “Eww,” Luke giggles overtop you, prodding your side with the tip of his shoe. “Get up, you mermaid.” 
“Make me, you mailman.”
Your arm drapes over your eyes, and you sigh. There really is nothing better than these moments; droplets of water soaking into your skin after an early morning swim, your best friend right beside you. 
He keeps nudging you with your shoe, over and over until your ribs start to hurt. You groan, swatting him away and stretching out your limbs with a groan, letting them pop and relax, until you blearily make your way to your feet. 
“You forgot your towel again,” Luke condones, but like always, he’s brought one for you. 
He goes through a practiced routine of drying you off, wrapping the towel around your shoulders and down your arms, across your back, scrunching the water out of your hair. It doesn’t matter how cold the water gets—this part always makes you warm. 
“Thanks,” you smile as he hands the towel off to you. “Anything interesting happen this morning, O Captain, my captain?”
“Not yet, sailor, sir,” he replies in a stuffy, gruff voice the two of you have joked around with since you were kids. “Just grabbing you for breakfast.”
You giggle, following him past the docks and to the shore. Once you’ve grabbed all your stuff, you both fall in stride and head towards your cabin, your twin five-beaded necklaces hanging over your shirts. 
Five years ago, when you got to Camp for the first time, you were as big a loser as any. You were bad at everything—everything—and had no real friends until you accidentally whacked some other friendless loser in the head with an oar when you were about to go canoeing. Luke got mad at you, but his little sister Annabeth was even more furious. He offered to be your partner for the day anyway. You’ve been partners ever since. 
Over the years the two of you have grown in status at the camp, more so Luke than you. He’s an excellent cabin leader and by far the greatest swordsman in camp. You, still unclaimed, have found solace in giving younger campers swimming lessons and wading out there on your own till you get sunstroke. (It’s happened a few times. Luke is never pleased, but also refuses to let the Apollo campers take care of you. He nurses you back to health with ice cream and horrible gossip.)
But every night you return to the Hermes cabin with a hollowness in your chest. One bunk emptied, then immediately filled. You’ve had the same one for five years, and the only condolence is that it’s right next to Luke’s, and sometimes you spend hours at night making faces at each other till your laughter endangers other people’s sleep. 
Yes, you love the water at Camp Half-Blood, but you love Luke most. 
Rumours of a new kid are rustling at camp. You haven’t seen him, but you’re just dying to get in on the gossip. Apparently he slayed a minotaur. Apparently Annabeth has seen him. And apparently he’s unclaimed. You hate to admit it, but this is the most exciting news you’ve heard in weeks!
Your afternoon is spent giving some swimming lessons and taking some Demeter campers canoeing. (Some of them freak out on the water. so it’s a nice challenge to untangle the sea plants they get hooked around their boat.) It feels like you’ve been here forever. A break is in desperate demand right now. 
You have no idea what kind of God heard your prayers, but your fellow counsellor has an unimpressed look on her face when she taps you on the shoulder and goes, “Your friend’s calling you.” 
The way she says it is almost degrading. You turn to look back at the shore to see the dark curly hair you’d spot a mile away. Next to him is a much shorter orange blob, shuffling awkwardly as Luke attempts to flag you down. Score!
You shoot an apologetic look at her. “Uh … I’ll be right back.” You wince, already disposing of your baggy orange shirt (it’s Luke’s) with your bathing suit underneath. 
“No you won’t,” she says dryly. “Just go.”
You flash a smile you hope is loaded with charm, and you’re off into water. As you swim, the only thing on your mind is I really really hope that’s the new kid, and I wonder what Luke’s face looks like right now. (He’s probably grinning, eyes crinkled at the sides as he tries to follow your figure beneath the waves. Maybe he’s doing that cute thing where his head tilts to the side as he watches.) 
When you’re close enough to the shore, you come out of the water, wringing your hair. “Hey, guys!” It’s Luke, Chris, and some blonde kid you’re sure is the new one. “What’s up?”
Luke is about to say something, then he frowns. “Where’s my shirt?”
“Left it in the canoe, I’ll go back for it later,” you reply, limply gesturing behind you. 
“And where’s your towel?”  
“Okay, I did bring one this time!” You counter. “I just gave it to a little Ares kid ‘cause she forgot hers.” 
Luke clicks his tongue, shakes his head at you, but of course he’s got one in his hands so what’s the worry? He’s endearingly amused when you take the cloth and dry yourself off, and the new boy, having watched this all raptly, widens his eyes and drawls, “Ohhhh, so you’re his gi—”
“This is Camp’s resident mermaid, Percy.” Chris butts in, adding your name almost as an afterthought. 
After you fasten your towel around you, you’re put off by Percy’s scrutinizing stare. “Look, it’s been a pretty weird day so I cannot tell if you’re joking or not.” 
“I’m not a mermaid,” you snipe, throwing Chris a dirty look. “People just call me that because I give swimming lessons here.” You stick your hand out to the blonde boy. “Nice to meet you, Percy.” 
He gives a polite nod, a little awkward. “Right back at ya.” The two of you study each other as you shake. He’s young, probably about twelve, a smatter of freckles across his face. His eyes look like the lake. Something itches in the back of your brain. There’s a moment where the shake is suspended, neither of you have let go but are no longer actively holding on, and you see it in his face that he’s studying you, too. Huh.
The conversation continues as normal, but you almost start to feel queasy for a second. “We’re trying to find something Percy’s good at,” Luke says with a pat on Percy’s shoulder. “You got any ideas?”
“Yes, please, because I really would like to have a word with my father,” Percy clips. “Is Glory, like, purely a skill thing or can I get some if I tie someone else’s shoes or something?” 
“I don’t have shoes,” you add unhelpfully. 
“It’s okay, dude,” Luke squeezes Percy’s shoulder. “Camp is great, no matter where you end up.”
Even if you’re like her, he means without saying. Even if you don’t end up anywhere. 
You meet Luke’s eyes. This is a kid that wants so badly to meet his father, to ease the ache inside him. You are the absolute worst person for this. One of the longest current unclaimed streaks and your ache remains. To Percy, you’re the biggest example of a failure there is, and Luke is only just now realizing it. 
“Maybe try the infirmary?” You pipe, shuffling back and forth on the sand. “You might have a knack for medicine.”
“Doubt it,” Percy swallows. “But yeah, okay. Who’s your parent, again?”
Percy can’t see it, but Luke and Chris send you a shifty look and all you can do is widen your eyes to be like, Help! Don’t make me crush his dreams! I don’t want another kid to hate me! 
You swallow. No matter how fast you think, you cannot come to a logical sentence. “I, uh—”
Just then, in another stroke of luck (wow, that’s two more than usual) an Athena counsellor that looks insanely disgruntled is running towards you. “Stolls put spiders in our cabin again,” he heaves once at a stop. “Please get rid of them.”
“Can’t you just squash ‘em?” Percy asks. 
“Not the spiders, the twins.” 
Chris is already nodding, but Luke looks to you first. He’s anxious, disappointed. You wish you could smooth out the creases in his brow with your thumb. “Don’t worry,” you stretch out a smile. “I’ll chill with Percy. It won’t take you guys too long.”
He’s still hesitant. You’re not sure this is a good call either. But he reaches out, quickly squeezes your shoulder and mutters, “Thank you.” Your skin feels gooey when he touches it. 
His signature roguish smile returns as he looks back to Percy. The side of his face is shadowed by the sun so well it makes you jealous. “Don’t give her a hard time, eh?” He reprimands playfully. 
Percy smiles a little. “I’ll try not to.”
You are once again reminded just how easy it is to love Luke. How effortlessly he moves into your heart. It happened to you after you slapped him with an oar. It’s already happening to Percy.
You’re sure he won’t like you nearly half as much. 
After Luke and Chris leave, Percy resigns to staring out at the campers canoeing on the lake. Maybe now is a good time to admit you’re not good with kids. Luke has tried many times to make you his welcome partner, but you can’t take to the role nearly as well. You’re perpetually antsy. And sweaty. 
“So, what cabin are you a part of that lets you do this all day?” Percy asks, squinting against the sun. 
Your heart gets heavy. With a sigh, you sit yourself down, and Percy soon follows. “Hermes, actually,” you say as casually as you can. 
Percy goes pale as a sheet. “Uh, what?”
“I’m unclaimed,” you clarify. “I don’t … I don’t have a parent.”
There’s always a pitiful pause whenever a camper figures that out. This one is somehow … clunkier. “Oh,” Percy says. “Oh. Okay, that makes sense. For a second I thought—phew.” Then his eyes trail down to the thread hooked around your fingers, the five beads you run your thumb over. “How long have you been here?”
“Five long, blissful years,” you hum dryly. 
Water ripples over pebbles on the shore. Every new camper’s ambition is eroded by the truth you represent. Percy’s no different. His brows furrow and his face falls. “And you’ve never been claimed?” He asks, and you can feel the noxious mix of pity, confusion and despair laced beneath it. 
You shake your head, watching some Demeter kids splashing each other’s canoes with their oars. “Nope. But it’s not so bad. I like my cabin, you know? I like my life. Doesn’t really matter who your parents are anyway, I think. You do the same activities as everyone else, just on different teams.”
“But doesn’t it make you mad?”
“It used to,” you shrug, “But not anymore. It’s just …” You sigh, rolling a bead against your thumb. “If I’m unclaimed, I’m unclaimed. That’s the way it is. You can’t force the Gods to do anything.” 
“That’s what Luke said,” Percy remarks, almost bitterly. 
“I’m a rare case though, Percy,” you half-lie to him, nudging him a bit with your shoulder. “You’ll get claimed. It’s your first day. And until then you’re kind of free to be whatever. You don’t have to fit into anything, which is kinda nice, and you can screw around as much as you want and nobody can really get mad at you ‘cause you’re new.” A smile rises on your face. “And I heard you killed a minotaur, so you’ve already got some cool points.”
His face screws up in a grimace, and it makes you laugh. “Oh joy, cool points. Can’t live without those.”
Okay, maybe you’re not bad with kids. Maybe you’re just bad with boring kids. Because this is going decent, right? 
“What if I don’t get claimed, though?” Percy asks after a moment, a vulnerable note eclipsing him. It resonates inside your chest. You pause for a moment, heaving a loaded breath. 
“Do you fart a lot in your sleep?”
His melancholy pauses. He looks at you like you’ve grown another head. “Uh … what? No? I think?”
“Then you can take the bunk above mine if you want. It’s empty now,” you say. “And if you’re never claimed you can come swimming with me, and we can find seashells to put under Luke’s pillow every night until he starts thinking they’ve always been there.”
Percy blinks. “Do you have any friends?”
“Yes, and I’m going to torture him until I die. Cabin eleven is oodles of fun, Percy, you’ll see!”
He looks a little horrified. “Luke said I was going to like you,” he mutters. “I … am not sure if he’s right.”
Oh, well. You’ll take it. 
ii. you can't help but become the sun
You can’t sleep, and Luke knows it. His eyes burn into the side of your face as you stare up at your bunk. You sneak him a look. He smiles ruefully. Sweeping his arm up from beneath his covers, a makeshift tent is formed next to him. He nods to you. Before you know it, you’ve abandoned your own bed, taking a single step until you skirt into the pocket of his mattress Luke has carved for you. He lets the sheets fall, cocooning you with him the way he always does. 
You’ve been sharing beds on occasion for years. One of you gets cold, has a nightmare, or wants to talk until your mind fades out, the only solution is a place next to each other. Whispers against cheeks, giggles muffled into pillows, necklaces knocking together. You used to be further apart. Now you can’t remember the last time Luke hasn’t latched onto you the second you’re within reach. It warms you a little more each time. 
When your head hits his pillow, the two of you just stare at each other for a moment, lips pursed in amusement. His face is so wildly nostalgic to you—five years seems like too short a time to have known him. His eyes are pitch-dark and soft with exhaustion, but you can still pick out the trademark Hermes mirth glimmering through. You sometimes forget his scar, probably because you know he wants you to forget it. He’d kill you for thinking this, but you kind of like the way it hugs the curve of his cheek, bunches up when his dimple appears. It makes you sad. It makes you happy. It makes you love him. 
“Percy likes you,” he whispers, opening himself up so your chin brushes his shoulder. “That’s a first.”
He’s only wearing a tank top to sleep, so his warmth seeps through his skin when you tap him on the chest. “Shut up!” You hiss back, tapering into a giggle. “Has he picked up on anything yet?”
Luke bites the inside of his cheek, regretfully shaking his head. “Nope. But all that skill stuff is kinda arbitrary anyways. He’s still hung up on kleos, though, so … that’ll come in handy for Capture the Flag.”
“Ah, yes. Using a child’s misguided need for fulfilment as a weapon. A camp classic.” 
“Well someone’s gotta be useful for Capture the Flag in this cabin and it sure as hell isn’t you, mermaid,” he barbs back. 
Your jaw drops in mock offense and you squeeze a hand around his shoulder to shake him. “I will put you in a headlock right now, Luke, I’ll break your arm—”
“Be quiet!” He giggles as you attempt to wrangle yourself on top of him. “I’ll be nice to you, I’ll be nice, stop!” You get absolutely nowhere before the bed creaks and Luke shoves you back down. Your pulse rattles through your mouth as you laugh silently. “You’re the worst,” he mutters in your ear, raising the hairs on your neck.
“Well Percy likes me, so,” you turn your nose to the sky like a haughty old lady. 
“Percy’s a funnier, less annoying version of you,” he pokes your side. “That’s how I knew you’d get along, you weirdo.”
The momentary adrenaline this conversation has brought you is mellowing. “Hey, I’m very—very funny,” you mumble through a yawn. 
Luke laughs quietly. “Sure you are.”
He pulls you back to him, arm slung around the dip of your waist. When you make no protest, he seals you against his shoulder again. It’s started to feel a little different, him holding you like this. There’s an uncertainty your body faces about how to respond. His thumb runs over your spine and you decide to relax into him, pressing your face into the crook of his neck. Your chin knocks against his collarbone and you have the urge to curl yourself against his chest, just to feel him breathe. 
“Get some sleep, sailor,” he murmurs, fingers brushing through the roots of your hair. You don’t think he realizes he’s doing it. Your cheeks warm, and you bury yourself even further into the space against his shoulder and his pillow. Gods, there’s something wrong with you, isn’t there?
“Will do, soldier.” The campy voice you do is half hearted at best as you find yourself absorbed in the closest thing to a full home you’ll ever get. In this sleepy hollow with bedsheets and a boy, there is acceptance. 
Well, mostly. You think you dream about Luke brushing a kiss along your hairline in your last bit of consciousness. You think you wish it was real. You think you want him to do it again.   
iii. when you don't know who you are, you fuck around and find out
The last time your cabin lost a game of Capture the Flag, you’d still been taller than Luke. That’s how long your winning streak has felt. There’s no reason you foresee that changing today. Even when Annabeth drags Percy along with her on whatever surely precarious quest to victory she’s created. It’s unlike her, to bring a newbie along. It’s concerning. 
“He’s fine,” Luke drawls to you when your face has been tense for twenty minutes. “Annabeth’s got a plan.” He’s a little winded after clearing out some Ares kids with Chris. You aren’t much use when it comes to weapons—your friends take the lead as you wait from a distance, ready for backup. Thank the Gods they didn’t need it this time. You’re content to just watch, but whenever Luke grins after getting another kid to surrender, veins in his arms raised like rivers on a map, you get a little distracted and you’re not sure why. 
You just huff back at him, totally normal when he wipes a sheen of sweat off his jaw. “Annabeth’s gonna use him as cannon fodder,” you mutter back, and Luke hits your arm with an appalled grin. 
Annabeth did, in fact, have a plan. So you won. Obviously. 
You’re still doubtful Percy wasn’t cannon fodder, though, with how beat up he looks on the shoreline when the rest of your team flocks to the stolen flag to claim victory. He’s slumped down on the rocky shore, a few equally beaten Ares kids straggling away from him. 
“So I was right, huh?” Luke hums in your ear, pulling your eyes to him. 
He’s revelling in newfound glory, and damn it, you get confused when you look at him when he’s like this. You’re not sure when it happened but you want to tear your heart out of its chest because of how sick it makes you. Some of his curls are stuck to his forehead with sweat, his hair suffering a serious case of helmet-head. But it’s the pride oozing off him, the infectious happiness laced through his smile, that makes you fond of him in a way you’re not sure you should be. He’s beloved for a reason—he looks almost prophetic after winning a match, and he knows it. A glaring difference between the gangly boy you met all those summers ago. If you weren’t his best friend, you’d probably be one of his many admirers, watching his teammates fawn over his talent and wishing you were beside him. 
But you are beside him. And you’re his friend. Not an admirer. So everything’s fine. 
“You wouldn’t be saying that if we lost,” you retort, knocking your chestplate against his. It’s meant to be a friendly nudge, but Luke leans into it until you swear you feel his heart beating through the metal. 
He’s grown into his smile, less boyish and more wry. “You know I never lose, sailor.” 
You want to reply, but his eyes are startlingly pretty in the sunlight. That’s normal. Whatever. A heat rises in the apples of your cheeks so you scoff lightly and turn away as soon as possible. You feel Luke’s gaze following as you turn attention elsewhere. Your sternum feels fluttery.
Percy catches your attention again. Gods, he looks beat. He’s talking to Annabeth as she helps him up, and you see the gnarly scrape marring his cheek. You should probably check on him, right? 
You’re halfway to the kids when Annabeth shoves Percy backwards into the water. Like, shoves. 
“Annabeth!” You’re scowling at her the same way she scowled at you when you first hit Luke with that oar, rushing over to help Percy. 
“What is wrong with you?” Percy sputters out lying in the lake, but you’re ankles-deep in the water before you know it. He’s glaring daggers at Annabeth, but she looks relatively unimpressed. What happened during this game? 
“Thanks,” Percy mutters as you help him up. 
You say something to shrug it off but you can’t remember what, because your eyes are drawn to the scrape on his cheek. You have to blink a few times to get it, but you’re pretty sure it’s dissolving. Vanishing off his skin. “What the hell?”
Everyone on the shore is watching him now, trying to memorize his injuries before they wash away. Percy’s staring down at himself like he’s just been body-swapped. “I don’t understand.” 
You’ve never seen anything like this before. The strangest feeling fuels you—your bones feel firmer somehow, like the blood inside your body has weight to it. Like something is happening. A fear pierces your gut. 
Annabeth’s eyes have raised, and so have Percy’s. Your mouth goes dry. Right above him is the symbol of a trident, radiating so blue it washes out the sky itself. 
The claiming symbol of Poseidon. 
“Your dad’s calling,” Annabeth says, a smile itching the corners of her mouth. 
Percy looks like he’s going to pass out. You probably do too. “Told you you’d get claimed,” you manage to squeeze the words through the knot in your chest. 
You’re smiling until Percy looks at you, then looks up. His face goes white as a sheet. Or, as white as it can bathed in a pale blue glow. “Uh…” He blinks slowly, and your stomach twists. “I think she was talking to you.”
When you look up and see an identical trident looming over your head, you know something’s wrong. It’s made worse when Chiron rings out your and Percy’s name, branding you as children of Poseidon. 
Poseidon. 
You have a father. And he’s known you all this time. Your ears hollow out like a rush of water in a cavern.
Luke is the first to kneel. The rest of the camp follows. You watch as the entire camp basks in the glory of newcomer Percy Jackson, so quickly claimed by one of the most powerful Gods of Olympus. And you, who has waited five years to earn even a shred of his favour. 
This thing you’ve wanted for so long is suddenly the greatest insult in the world. Your best friend can’t even meet your eyes. 
iv. i remember who i am when i'm with you
You stare at Percy as he unpacks his things. Waiting to see traces of yourself in his face, traces of your father. Anything that could give you an inkling of what he looks like. Of what you look like. Of how this happened in the first place. 
It’s a futile search. Percy’s blue eyes, his freckles, the bridge of his nose, they’re all … nothing. Half of you is half of him, but there’s no indication of which parts. The cabin is cold. You’re not going to sleep well without Luke nearby. You’re not going to sleep well ever again. 
You feel nothing but strife, your throat closing in every time you take even a second to think. You don’t want Percy to see you cry. So you do what you always do. 
This has to be in the running for most overwhelming day of all time ever. Even when submerged in your favourite place on earth, you can’t get away from your dad. Your dumb stupid dad that has made the things you love and has ruined your life. 
You swim hard, and you loathe how good it feels. At least you know why now, but that doesn’t do much to ease you. When you pop up again, the sun has started to sink into the sea. And Gods, you have to give your dad credit. The landscape is so gorgeous you almost forget how long he’s ignored you. 
You wonder if this is the last time you’ll find solace in the lake. If eventually, it’ll be nothing but an extension of your father’s neglect. 
The water ripples around you. You frown, barely having noticed it when someone taps your shoulder. You turn. “Luke?” You swallow, but why are you surprised? 
He’s panting, cheeks splotched with sun as he treads water, droplets worming down his face from his soaking curls. “Been looking for you,” he puffs, “Percy’s worried. Called you from the—from the thingie but don’t think you heard me.”
You assume he means the docks, but you don’t say anything as he takes a deep, grounding breath. “You’ve been out here for hours. Hours. For a second I thought you drowned.”
“Now we know that can’t fucking happen,” you mutter a touch too bitterly, staring down at your legs warped beneath the water. 
Luke’s silent as he watches you. “…Have you been crying?”
When you don’t reply, Luke tugs on your wrist. “C’mon, sailor, let’s go.”
“Not tired,” you say, frozen by the hot tears brimming on your lashes. 
“I’m not leaving you out here. Come on.” He frowns when you yank your hand away as he tries pulling you again. “You’re gonna get heatstroke.”
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.”
He reaches for you again and you try to reject it for a moment, but he’s stronger than you, and he loves you better than even the water could. The second he has you close your resolve falters. He holds you against his shoulder, knees knocking against yours as you tread. 
“It’s okay,” he croons when you involuntarily start to cry. For a Poseidon kid, you can’t seem to control your waterworks. “It’s okay, I know.”
His hand cards through your scalp and you relish in the warmth of his bare skin on your cheek. He smells like comfort. You cling to it with all you have, until your nails start to dig into his skin and your eyesight blurs. 
“Come back with me and I’ll dry you off, okay?” He kisses the top of your head, the way you dreamed it last night. “I’ll take care of it.”
You’re not sure which it he’s referring to, because it could honestly apply to anything. When you both set off for shore, you’re so distracted by your own misery that Luke’s actually able to keep up with you. He’s up on the dock before you so he can pull you out. 
The second you’re out of the water you feel like you’ve been gutted with a lead pipe. All the energy it gave you leaves, and you realize just how right Luke was about spending too much time out there. You can’t feel your legs. 
You buckle over almost instantly, but Luke holds you before you can even think of falling. “I’ve got you,” he assures, guiding you down to sit on the dock. Your eyes are too weak to even admire the sunset. Luke drapes a towel over your shoulders, rubbing it over your arms, a welcome familiarity. He takes his time, wringing your hair and drying your back as you gaze blankly ahead. There’s a tenderness to it now. Luke’s ruthless when it comes to a lot of things. When it comes to how he loves, too. But there’s nothing demanding here. He lets your tears fall in silence, undisturbed, the touch of his hands through the cloth a silent promise. 
When you’re fairly dry, he fetches something then quickly comes back. “Here.”
It’s his shirt. You only notice you’ve been shivering as he pulls it over your head, lets you fill in the sleeves, gently gathers your hair back. “Thanks,” you say. His fingertips brush your neck as he hooks them around your necklace to rest it over the shirt. You think he does it to remind you you’re still the same. You’ve had five years together. It doesn’t have to end now. 
“Why did it take him so long?” You struggle to say, eyes glossed like sea glass. “Why—why now? What did I do?”
Luke puts an arm around you. “I don’t know,” he mumbles honestly. 
You sink into his warmth like a wave meets the shore. “Five years, Luke. He ignored me for five years. And he takes Percy right—right away.” It’s hard not to choke between every word. “I just thought I’d never get claimed, and I was fine with that, and now I’m … this!”
Its hard to tell if the dampness of your cheeks are the remnants of saltwater or your tears. “I don’t want this,” you sniffle. “I waited so long … and I just don’t want it.”
Luke rubs your shoulder, lips pursed against your head. He murmurs into your hair, “I know, sailor. It’ll be okay. Promise.”
His voice is reserved. You look up at him. His jaw is resolute, his eyes red-rimmed in a way you hadn’t noticed before. “You’re upset too,” you comment quietly. 
He laughs listlessly. “Yeah, of course I am. I’m losing my favourite cabin mate.”
You sniff and try to smile. “Percy?”
He rolls his eyes fondly, and it feels like all you want. He squeezes your shoulders tight and you long desperately to be closer. “I just don’t know what I did wrong,” you whisper, pressing your cheek into him. “Why didn’t he see me until he saw Percy? Am I just … unremarkable or something?”
“No, no. Absolutely not—c’mere.” Luke loops an arm around your waist and manoeuvres you into his arms, cradled on his lap so you can bury your face in his neck. You can’t stop fucking crying, but his patience for you is infinite. “You are by far the most remarkable person I know.” He seals you against his chest, scratching your scalp the way he knows you like. “None of this is you, okay? Your dad’s an idiot. You are—you’re everything. They’re all mindless up there, they don’t know how to love you. They don’t deserve to.”
An edge seeps into his timbre that gives you pause. You feel weak, discarded. It sounds like he’s talking about a different person. But he’s right. He has to be, because he knows you better than you know yourself.
Luke keeps going. You peek at his face when he speaks. Stubborn as ever. “He doesn’t have any fucking right to you. If he wanted that he should’ve claimed you when you got here. You have a life. You … you had a home. And now just because he’s got another kid he kills two birds with one stone? He pretends like this is some Godly intervention? Like he didn’t ignore you the whole time you’ve been here because he couldn’t stand how much you didn’t need him? How much better you are? You’re my …” He struggles, brows furrowed, the sun melting in his eyes. “You’re my best friend, and we’re supposed to be together. He’s not allowed to take that from you.”
Your heart stirs. “Sounds like you’re jealous,” you try to tease.
Luke heaves a sigh, his muscles rippling against your chest. You’re suddenly aware of the fact that he’s got no shirt on. And that he’s pressed against you in a way that makes you question if you should be this close. Beads of water cling to the divots in his skin, and you linger a little too long on one nestled in his collarbone. You swear you think this every time he goes swimming with you: when did he get so … hot? And every time you think it, you want to gouge your heart out with a spoon. 
“Can you blame me?” A melancholy smile plays on his face. “I liked having you all to myself.”
Tears spring to your eyes all over again. “I liked that too.”
It’s a whisper that sends you forward, Luke bringing his forehead to your own, and you want to live in the warmth that coils through you. His nose catches against yours when he laughs, but he doesn’t move. You take a moment to savour it. You think he does too.
He wipes a tear off your face as you say, “I’m still yours.”
“Yeah?” Luke hums a bit, his hand sliding up your waist in a most unfriendly manner. “How?” 
You catch the glimmer in his eyes, that plucky smile he’s had since fourteen. Something shifts.
“What are you asking me, Luke?” You can’t fight the smile. 
“What do you want me to ask you?”
“I dunno, what do you want me to want you to ask you—”
“My Gods, you’re a pain in the ass.”
He groans, throws his head back, and kisses you like you aren’t the most annoying person in the world. 
It’s so cliché, but for a brief moment your strife is well worth it. You yank him closer before he pulls away. It’s a little unsure, the two of you so used to toeing the line, but soon you’ve given in and your hands are in his hair, mouths parting, and it’s messy and wanting and everything you need. 
Luke slips his hands beneath the hem of your shirt, palms flattening against your sun-beaten skin. It feels so good, better because the shirt is already his, a whine scratching your throat as he moves up so his thumbs graze the skin beneath the tie in your bathing suit. 
“Oh, sailor,” he coos against your mouth. You want to retaliate but it’s lost when he squeezes your thighs, warming you in all the right places. It’s hard to understand this is even happening—it feels like you’re underwater, a blissful fuzziness growing in your head entirely at his mercy. 
He razes kisses down your still-damp neck, catching pearls of water on his tongue. You cling to his shoulders, raking your hands down his back just so you can feel more of him. Luke’s dropped down to your collarbone at this point, tugging the neck of your shirt down as his teeth graze the bone. “You’re my best friend,” he mutters over your skin. “Still mine. Always mine.”
“Mmhm,” is all you can say back, the husk in his voice making your eyes screw shut. He teases a spot so sensitive you groan and laugh at the same time. The regret is immediate, but you feel a chuckle pass his lips, too. “Luke,” you purse a smile. He dots kisses back up your neck until you start returning the favour. 
You kiss his jaw, a few spots on his neck, feeling the flex of his muscle all around you as he squeezes the fat of your hips. You finally sweep up the water in the hollow of his collarbones, and his grunt of your name makes you, frankly, delirious. 
He brings your mouth back to his, skin sticking to each other. It’s harder to kiss as fervently when you’re both giggling against each other’s tongues, running fingers along the planes of each other’s bodies trying to see which places feel new and which are known from memory. It’s a fifty-fifty split, and you love it. 
Somewhere along the way he peeled off your shirt because it was clinging in places you knew he wanted, but now you’re panting and giggling into his hair, his nose pressed into your neck, both of you melded together with salt and sun. “You really know how to cheer a girl up, mailman,” you grin. 
His lips fix to your skin. “Really? You’re still gonna call me that right now?”
“Yeah.”
“Like it better when you call me captain,” he murmurs, nose grazing along your pulse. 
You swallow, “That doesn’t work unless we’re doing the whole sailor-ship bit.”
“We’re always doing the sailor-ship bit.”
“I seriously can’t believe I’m in love with you.”
He sighs warmly at the words. “You have no idea how much I’ve been dying for you to say that. Even though I knew you would.”
You roll your eyes as he presses his forehead to yours, and you’re more glad than ever that his face is the one you love so much. It’s a pretty great face. 
“You’re gonna be okay,” he says tenderly. “You’re too incredible for Poseidon. You’re worth more than that.”
He still looks gorgeous blurred by your tears. You listen to the beat of his heart and the waves rolling. “More than any water anywhere?”
“More than the fucking Styx, sailor. I’ll promise you that.”
That night, Luke stays with you and Percy in your cold chapel of a cabin. You exchange stories until Percy falls asleep in his bed, curled up like a sea otter. “He’s a drooler,” Luke notes fondly, eyes flicking to yours. “Like you.”
You shove his chest playfully until he wraps his arms around you and anchors you to sleep, like every night before. This time, as you drift off, he kisses your forehead again. Once because he loves you, and twice to make sure you know it’s real. 
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augment-techs · 1 year ago
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toxicanonymity · 1 year ago
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5.7k words, Joel x f!reader x Tommy | sequel here! A/N: ONE SHOT. I had to get this out of my system after that one Uncle Tommy line I wrote in september lol. Shoutouts to: @bonezone44 for being an Uncle Tommy stan, @/walkintotheriveranddisappear for running the center for dvp excellence, and everyone who's been supportive. 🖤 Multiple fic recs at the bottom! WARNINGS: I8+, big girthy age gap, darkish miller bros, dubcon (coaxing/pressure, you aren't sure what Joel allows), use of "daddy," sharing, unsafe p in v (individually and together), oral, jacking off, creampies, cucking, MFM, DP (double vag), light degradation, praise, pet names, foot massage. AU where you don't overthink this fic. You’re happy with Joel, but it’s not a healthy relationship with clear communication and boundaries. Joel carries reader. TW: incidental incest via MFM/DVP - If this isn't for you, please quietly move along.
📢 Orgs to consider donating to for t-giving: alight (refugee support), cultural survival (indigenous rights advocacy)
🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂
Joel squats down with one hand on the back of your chair. He admires your face then cups your cheek. “Gotta do somethin’, baby. Won’t be back tonight.” The casual announcement makes your heart race.  He kisses you on the forehead, then stands up. 
“What do you mean you won’t be back tonight?”
“It’s okay, baby. Uncle Tommy’s gonna stay with ya.”
Your face gets hot. Tommy tilts his head down and smiles at you from across the breakfast table. He raises his glass of juice in acknowledgement, but you don’t look at him. You look squarely at Joel, caught off guard by his plans.
“Daddy,” you whine. “Just lemme come with you.” 
“Ain’t that kinda trip, darlin’.” 
“Why can’t he do it?”
Tommy laughs silently and his voice goes up an octave. “What’sa matter, sweetheart? Don’t wanna hang out?” He tilts his head and smiles, then his normal voice returns. “That’s okay.” There's a glimmer in his eye. 
Joel grabs his jacket and kisses you goodbye, then says, “Don’t have too much fun without me,” and winks at Tommy. Then Joel's gone, just like that. Your tummy feels nervous as his truck starts, then drives away. 
-
It's Thanksgiving week. You have a lot to be thankful for. Joel loves you and takes good care of you. You have solar power and a nice farm with a secure perimeter. Tommy is visiting for the holiday. You met Tommy in passing long ago, but his girl at the time was with him, and that was before you were Joel’s. You were just the girl down the street. This week is the first time you've really spent time together. 
Joel would kill any other man for touching you, but apparently he's different about Tommy.  You're still figuring out how that works.  Joel doesn't seem to mind what Tommy sees–or feels–when the three of you are together.  But what about when you're alone? 
Does Joel know Tommy walked by the bedroom window and saw you undressing? Does he know Tommy came to apologize for that when you were fresh out of the shower, and saw you in a towel? Or that he looked you up and down, asked if Joel was treating you right, then gave a low whistle and adjusted himself before he left? Or that you touched yourself almost as soon as he closed the door?
*******
Last night, Joel put you in Tommy's lap in the armchair to give you a foot massage, and you tried not to react when Tommy got hard. “It's ok,” Tommy whispered with his hands on your hips. He pulled you back against his hard bulge with a soft grunt and it gave you a shock of desire. 
“It's ok, darlin,” Joel echoed, kneeling at your feet. Joel placed your heel on his own hardening package as he worked on the ball of your foot. 
Tommy's hand cupped your breast and you tensed. 
Joel glanced up. “Relax, baby. It's just Uncle Tommy.” 
“It's ok,” Tommy whispered again into your hair as his other hand crept up your thigh, higher and higher, until his thumb grazed your panties. Joel continued massaging you, unbothered, then switched to the other foot. 
Tommy's thick fingers glided over your panties and you twitched as he felt the dampness. He lifted his hips with a soft grunt, then cleared his throat.  “gonna take care of your girl tonight, Joel? She's drippin’ like a faucet.”  Your cheeks burned, and Tommy ran his hand down your thigh. 
Joel smiled with half his mouth as he glanced up. “makin’ a mess already?” Joel shook his head.  “Close your legs, darlin'.” 
Your stomach dropped and you stammered, “sorry, uh . . .”
But as soon as you closed your legs, Tommy lifted your dress up, making your whole body tingle with goosebumps. Joel’s face gave away nothing as he looked past you at Tommy.  For a moment, you thought Tommy had gone too far. Then Joel hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties, and Tommy held you back against his chest as Joel slid them off. Joel spread your knees, and Tommy's, and knelt between them, closer. 
With his armpits resting over your thighs, Joel looked at your cunt hungrily and spread you open with his thumbs. You tilted your hips for him, feeling yourself gush. “Good girl,” he murmured, then planted his right forearm on your lower belly. With his right fingers pointing down, he ran them through your dripping folds, then drew in a deep breath through his nose before bringing his mouth between your legs. 
Joel lapped at your weeping hole and sucked your clit. He fingered you and made out with your cunt like it was just another night, like he was getting ready to fuck you. Meanwhile, Tommy lightly grinded into your ass, breathing warm and wet into your hair and holding you gently in his strong arms as Joel devoured your pussy. Tommy rocked you gently on his lap, rocking you into Joel’s mouth. Joel ate you out at the same rhythm.  When you came, Tommy’s arousal pressed harder against you and he grabbed your breast. He cooed, “good girl.”  
Joel didn't seem to mind, and it felt really good, but you got self conscious after you finished. Tommy caressed your arm as Joel wiped his mouth off. “I'm sleepy, daddy,” you looked at him with big eyes.
Joel looked at you fondly, squeezed your thigh, and said, “I know, darlin’. Give Uncle Tommy a kiss goodnight.”  You turned around and kissed him on the cheek, then mumbled “goodnight” without meeting his eyes. 
Joel scooped you up in his arms. You went to bed with Joel and only Joel. As soon as he laid you down, you asked, “you're not mad about Tommy touching me?”
“Felt good, didn't it?” 
You gave a small nod. 
“Nice havin’ four hands.” Joel raised his eyebrows and left it at that. 
You eyed the protrusion in his jeans. “I'm comin’, baby,” he reassured you as he unzipped them. He pulled his jeans and boxers down together and his massive erection sprang free. He prowled across the bed, settled between your legs, and you raised your knees, tilting your hips for him. “Good girl,” he whispered as he got himself into place. 
“God damn, even wetter now,” he muttered as he gathered your slick on his fingers and wiped it on his stiff cock. His tip prodded your dripping hole, then he pushed inside with a sigh, making you moan as he split you open. Joel bottomed out, and the sound that came out of his chest was somewhere between a grunt and a groan, “Uungghh.” You whimpered in pleasure. Then, through the thin wall, you heard Tommy cum with a deep moan. Joel chuckled, then bowed his head and kissed you, pausing all the way inside. 
Joel kissed you softly as he buried his length in you, and your lips broke away only to whimper, “Daddy.”
“Yeah, baby doll,” he whispered into the pillow, right by your ear. “Daddy’s here.” You wrapped your legs around him as he fucked you deep and slow. You imagined Tommy lying behind you, grinding against you, whispering “good girl,” copping a feel as Joel fucked you.  You moaned and whimpered under Joel as he brought you to the brink again.  Then, as your wet little pussy fluttered around his cock, he groaned and bottomed out to fill you with his seed. 
**********
Now it’s morning, Joel's gone, and you're left alone with his brother. His brother with the sweet smile, soft voice, and big dick that felt so hard against you. Don't have too much fun without me, Joel said. . . With a wink.   Unsure what to do with that, you avoid Tommy for most of the day, and he doesn't make you hang out with him. He works in the yard and you catch a few glimpses. He gets hot and takes off his flannel, exposing his wifebeater and oversized belt buckle. As he dabs his forehead with his shirt, his bicep swells and the veins on his hand bulge.
Tommy comes in and takes a shower in the other bathroom. There’s a knock on your bedroom door, then it opens. You’re not sure why you didn’t lock it. Tommy’s wearing jeans, boxers, and nothing else. Your eyes linger on his strong chest. He leans with his hand against the door frame. “Think Joel would let me borrow a shirt? Wasn’t plannin’ to work up a sweat,” he chuckles. 
Tommy crosses his muscular arms over his thick, bare chest as you get a white t-shirt out of Joel's dresser and toss it to him. Tommy’s jeans ride down as he lifts his arms and puts the shirt on in front of you. He catches you looking as his head comes through the hole, then he rakes his fingers through his curls. A subtle smile forms, his eyes twinkle, and he gives you a little nod before he walks away. 
Later, you're taking a bath. You sigh as you sink into the water. Then there's a click as the doorknob lock is effortlessly picked. The door opens and Tommy smiles at you with his eyes, biting his bottom lip. He closes the door behind him. The tub squeaks as you quickly pull up your knees to cover your breasts. 
“Musta been touchin’ yourself, huh?” he chuckles as he approaches the tub. “Don't stop on my account.” He winks and his eyes fall on your legs. You scooch them closer together in case he can see through the bathwater. 
Your chest feels warm. You look down and away.
Tommy takes a seat on the tiled floor in front of the garden tub. “C’mon sweetheart, don't be shy.” his arm moves out of view, unbuttoning his jeans. Your nipples harden. He tilts his head to peek from the side and smiles. 
“What do you want?” you ask softly and a low squeak echoes as you shift in the tub. 
“Wanna see ya do it. Go on, finish what ya started.”  
“I wasn't.”
“There's no shame in it, sweetheart”
You swallow and look down.
He studies your face and repeats, “Nothin' to be ‘shamed of. You know that. Right?”
“Tell your brother that,” you whisper and instantly regret it. You pinch your eyes shut and add, “No, don't. . .Please.”
“Oh shit,” Tommy whispers. “Ya can’t, can ya?” 
You barely shake your head, eyes still closed. 
Tommy chuckles. “Controlling fucker, ain't he?” 
You look at Tommy and your eyes widen with some defiant glimmer of hope. “God damn,” he whispers. “keepin’ his girl from touchin’ herself.” He looks down and shakes his head in disapproval.  
He smiles apologetically.  “Guess Daddy knows best, huh?” He tugs his jeans off, and you watch unabashed.  As his pants come off, his boxers ride down, exposing his short, dark pubic hair. You can’t help but admire the way his thigh muscles swell out from his boxers.  
He palms himself over the fabric and raises his eyebrows. “Wanna see it, don’t ya?” He smiles knowingly at you. 
You don’t answer. He shows you anyway, pulling the waistband down under his balls. He's neatly trimmed and his balls are big. He's engorged but not fully hard. 
“Do me a favor and spit in my hand, sweetheart.” He holds it out in front of you. You look back and forth between his eyes, then his freckles. He's a handsome man. His hand stays there, waiting patiently. You gather saliva in your mouth, tilt your head forward, and let it drop into his palm. 
“Good girl,” he murmurs. 
He wraps his hand around his cock and You look into the bath water as his eyes devour your body. In the corner of your eye, you can see him at full mast. He breathes heavier, then moves positions. He sits with his right side against the tub, facing you. He strokes himself with his left hand and dips his right hand into the water. You flinch away then try to relax.  The backs of Tommy’s fingers graze your calf under the water. You squeeze your thighs together. 
“Don't get shy on me now, cupcake.” He reaches behind your calf and touches the back of your leg, near your ass.  Your legs involuntarily part.  He wouldn't do anything Joel wouldn't like. Would he? Somehow the tension of the situation is only making you want it more.  His fingers creep between your legs and caress your inner thigh crease. He sucks in a chest full of air, then gets on his knees. He brings his left hand to your mouth again for lube. 
“Good girl.”  The squelch of his hand around his cock echoes with the new moisture.  He searches your face as half his mouth breaks into a smile.  He holds your inner thigh as he jacks off. Then he straightens your leg so he can see your body better. “God damn,” he murmurs, and the sound of his voice is sharpened by the tile. He rubs your thigh, spits into his other hand, keeps tugging at his cock, then when he's close, he gets up and sits on the edge of the tub. It’s impossible not to look at his stiff, angry cock, glistening with your combined saliva. You still have one knee bent above the water–the knee furthest from him. 
He pumps himself and stands up to face you. “You wanna know how I taste?” He asks. 
You hesitantly shake your head no, unsure if it would be crossing a line.  “Okay, sweetheart. Don't have to.” He aims his cock at the water over your lap, then closes his eyes and groans. “Ohh, God. ohhhh,” it lands sharply in your ears as he erupts. Silky ropes of cum dance in the water, some of it wrapping around your thigh. When he's finished, he pulls his boxers back up, then his jeans, but doesn't zip them up. He sits on the edge of the tub again, leans over it, and kisses you on the forehead. Then he whispers in your ear, “I'll make dinner.” 
—-
You eat together at the kitchen table. There's a cornucopia centerpiece.  The scant conversation is about winter and gardening, until he reaches  under the table and squeezes your thigh. You want him so bad, you blurt out, “what’s happening?” 
He replies, “Huh?” with his hand still on your thigh. 
You search Tommy’s face. “You said it yourself, he’s controlling.” You shift in your chair and he takes his hand back. You continue,  “Why doesn’t he care if you. . .” 
“Ah,” Tommy smiles down at his plate. “Well. . .”  He turns his chair to face you instead of the table. He sits back and manspreads, and his hands rest on his thighs. “I’m just another body to love ya with, sugar.”  His eyes drift to the cornucopia. “And I sure am thankful for it.” 
His eyes return to you, and your heart flutters. 
“He can love on ya when he ain’t here, even.” One of his hands slides up his own thigh to rest closer to his groin. He takes in a deep breath through his nose and nods, admiring you as he slowly exhales. His eyes are darker. 
A desperate want is stirring in your belly. It seems too good to be true. You abruptly announce, “I’m tired. I’m gonna go to bed.”
“Okay, cupcake. C’mere,” Tommy opens his arms. 
You stand between his legs, bend forward, put your arms around his neck and kiss him on the cheek.  As you pull your head back, his hands on your hips pull you into sitting on his thigh. He brings a hand to your cheek, and it melts you. “I wouldn’t do nothin’ he wouldn’t want,” he reassures you.
You nod. 
“End up on the wrong side of the dirt,” he chuckles. When you don’t laugh, he clarifies, “Me, not you. He’d never hurt ya, cupcake.” 
Then he cradles your head with both hands, studying your eyes and lips.  He wets his lips, and your lips part, watching him. Half his mouth twitches. You’re warm all over. He leans in and looks at your mouth again, getting closer. When you can practically feel the heat of his lips on yours, you close the gap and feel a rush of need when your mouths come together. His lips are soft, and the kiss is tender. You pull away after two seconds. 
“Goodnight,” you whisper. 
—---
You lie in bed missing Joel, wishing he would come home.  You feel more at ease with the two of them.  Your mind drifts to Tommy.  At this rate, you wish he would stay.  You’re almost asleep when the bedroom door creaks open. 
“Daddy?” When you turn over, the moonlit silhouette is Tommy's. He's only wearing boxers and there's already a tent in them. He lifts the covers, and the mattress dips under his weight. 
You ask, “What are you doing?”
“'S’okay, cupcake, I told ya. Promise he won’t be mad.”
“How do you know for sure?”
“Your daddy and I been sharin’ our toys for fifty years.”
Your stomach turns, but Tommy adds,  “You're the most special of all, ya know.” He scoots closer. “Never seen him in love before.” 
You feel your body warming and opening up for him. 
“He wants ya to get what ya need, baby,” Tommy whispers. 
Your heart pounds. 
“Even told me your secret word,” Tommy adds. 
“He did?”
“If ya really want me to stop, all ya gotta say is Appleseed.” How would he know that unless Joel told him? 
You turn away from Tommy and he doesn't waste any time before spooning you. His strong arm rests over you and his hand cups a breast. He kisses your neck, soft and wet. The thick, warm rod in his boxers grazes your lower back as he tongues your delicate skin. He kisses your neck with increasing passion, and he kneads your breast.  Then his arousal fully presses against you through his boxers and your nightgown.  
He curves his body around you and pulls you back into him. He sighs and his engorged cock twitches against your crack, giving you a surge of desire. He slides his hand into your nightgown from the top to palm your naked breast and sighs as he grinds against you.  
“God damn, sweetheart,” he whispers as your nipple hardens against his palm. He takes his hand out of your nightgown and cups your breast on top of it again, then his hand slowly slides down your sleepwear, feeling every inch of your torso before arriving at your bare thigh. He nudges his fingers under the hem of your nightgown and slides his hand up your thigh. When his hand reaches your pussy, your top leg lifts ever so slightly, spreading your thighs to make room for him. You're not wearing underwear. 
“Good girl,” he whispers.  You’re aching to have him inside you. “Drippin’ for me ain't ya, baby?” 
He circles your clit, and you moan softly. There's a wet spot on his boxers pressing into you.  “Fuck” he mutters and backs up his hips. “Damnit, I’m drippin’, too,” he chuckles. “Takin’ these off.” 
After taking his boxers off, Tommy hovers over you and you’re still on your side. Tommy's hand comes back to your breast, and you turn your face toward his.  Your lips meet, and after two seconds, you don’t pull away. His lips push yours open and you accept his tongue. You breathe through your nose as he licks into your mouth.  
Tommy pulls back and reads your face, then gives you another soft kiss before settling in behind you, against you, curled around you again. His naked cock is smooth and warm against your ass. He grinds against you for a minute as he massages your breast and moans into your hair.  Then his hand drifts down between your legs and he groans at how wet you are. 
“I gotta be in ya, sugar.” Tommy backs up and wedges his rigid cock between your thighs, and it glides smoothly through your mess of arousal. His tip reaches your clit. You’re throbbing needily. Your hips tilt on their own, offering him your hole. 
“Fuck,” Tommy says as his tip finds your entrance. “Fuck. That’s right, baby.” he pushes his tip into you. You're dying for it, but you're still a little tense and it's making you even tighter. 
“God damn, you feel good. Can't imagine when he first–.” He pushes into you, trying to let your body relax and accommodate his girth. “Oh shit, mmm–that musta been–Fuck.” He pushes a little further. “Relax for me, baby.” He withdraws some then thrusts further into you.  “Relax, sugar,” he whispers. “Just breathe.” You take a deep breath and relax. The last of him slides in and he bottoms out.  “Ohh, good girl. There we go.” He palms your breast and you melt into him.  “We’re right here, baby.” 
He’s got you speared on his cock, spread apart by his girth. “God damn. What a good girl.” 
With his cock fully sheathed, his thick fingers rub circles on your nipple.  You moan, twitching around the new cock buried in the hot center of your body. “Mmm,” he growls into your hair, still not moving. You need friction. He breathes deeply. “breathe with me, baby.” You breathe with him and feel yourself relax more. 
“Please,” you whine, beginning to move your hips. 
His voice is husky. “God damn. Look at ya, sugar. Fuckin’ yourself on Uncle Tommy’s cock?”
“Please,” you whimper again. 
“What's your daddy gonna think?” 
Your walls twitch and your heart skips a beat. “You said–”
“Yeah. . .He'll be fine, sweetheart..” Tommy begins to move his hips. “He’d be proud’a ya, takin’ this cock like such a good girl.”
He begins to fuck you at a steady rhythm, breathing heavily and cursing softly. You begin to relax with his hand mapping the front of your body, and his stiff cock thrusting into you. He palms your tit again and your head tilts back against him. He kisses your neck, and your body opens for him even more. Your cunt swallows him up with every thrust. 
“Ohh, Joel's a lucky man,” he pants with his dick easily sliding into you, making you whole. “Shit, I'm lucky, too–uggh.”  You push back on him as he fills you with his stiff cock. 
He asks, “Little harder?” 
“Mm,” you nod. 
He slams into you and you moan. 
“Yeah, that's our girl.” 
Soon, you’re lost in the pleasure of Tommy’s thick cock pounding you. 
The front door unlocks and you freeze. You’re both facing away from the bedroom door.  “‘S’okay,” Tommy reminds you. He slows his hips, then bottoms out and pauses. “C’mere,” he wraps his arms around you and with his cock still inside, he rolls over on his back, then sets you down on your other side, arms still wrapped around you, his cock only sliding out half way in the process.
As soon as you’re settled, he bottoms out again with a soft moan.   You and Tommy are both facing the bedroom door now. The covers are down around your waist. The handle moves, then the door opens. The silhouette is Joel with his sleeves rolled up. 
—---
As Joel approaches the bed, the moonlight hits him and his face is dark. 
“She’s so good, Joel,” Tommy pants, with you still full of his cock.
Joel comes to the bed and crouches down. “God damn.” Joel gently takes your jaw in his hand and tilts his head. He studies your face, then his eyes land on yours affectionately. “Couldn't go one day, could ya?” He smiles with his eyes and relief washes over you.  
“M’sorry daddy,” you sigh. “Are you mad?”
“No, baby.” Tommy is fucking you slowly. “I ain't mad.” Joel slowly stands up and palms himself over his jeans as he watches your body move to the slow rhythm of Tommy’s thrusts. 
“Really?”
“Baby, I keep ya stuffed so full’a cock. .  . can't blame ya for needin’ it.”
“Yeah,” you whimper. 
“That's what Uncle Tommy's here for,” Tommy whispers. 
“Now I get to see ya,” Joel says “All of ya,” Joel gently pulls the covers all the way off. Then Joel tugs up at the hem of your nightgown and kneels down to take it off you. 
You try to move forward, reaching for Joel, but Joel puts his hand on your bare chest and Tommy pulls you back, bottoming out again with a moan. 
“Want yours,” you whimper.
“Shhh. You're gonna get it.” 
You watch Joel take off all his clothes, and as he does it, he watches you moving at a slow rhythm.  When Joel’s naked, he spits in his hand. He stands by the bed watching you get fucked by his brother, taking in the view as he squeezes his cock. 
“Daddy, please,” you whine. 
Joel sits down on the bed.  Tommy scooches back to make more room and brings you back with him, still impaled on his cock. Joel lies down and faces you. He gets right up against you, and the first thing he does is kiss you. His hard cock lays against your clit and mound, throbbing for you.  You moan into his mouth as Tommy’s cock drags slowly inside you from behind.  
Joel’s arm wedges between your back and Tommy’s chest, grabbing hold of you.  Joel nudges you upward. Tommy takes the hint and pulls out. You wrap your leg over Joel’s hip. His eyes scan your face, marveling at your feral want. Joel’s hand, still on your back, slides down your ass and hooks under it, between your legs, feeling your sopping wet cunt from the back. “God damn, baby. This all you or did Uncle Tommy cum already?”
“Not yet,” Tommy answers. 
Joel’s tip slides through your folds, then he pulls back  and notches himself at your entrance. He moves his hand to your hip, and pushes into you with a sigh. You're so wet and aroused, he sinks all the way into you.  “Fuck,” Joel breathes. “oh, yeah—ugghh–swallowed me right up, baby.” He marvels at how relaxed you are. With Joel’s arm out of the way, Tommy’s tummy returns flush against your back, with his hard, wet cock pressing against your ass cheek. He grabs your tit. 
Joel buries his cock in you. “Oh baby, you love this, don’t ya?” 
You nod. “Love your cock, daddy.” 
“You’re takin’ it so good, baby.  Think you’re wet enough for—ohh, darlin’.” He grinds against you, deep inside you. “You wanna ride this cock, baby?” 
You nod.  Joel slides out of you and you whimper at the loss as he rolls onto his back. Joel lies face up and holds his cock for you. He whispers, “C’mere baby,” but you're already on your way. 
You straddle him and sink right down on him with a whimpered, “daddy,” then bend forward, putting your tits against Joel’s chest. Tommy’s slowly stroking himself and watching. 
“C’mere,” Joel whispers and reaches for your head. He pulls your face into his for a passionate kiss as you grind into him with his cock buried in you. It only takes a few seconds of grinding into Joel for your walls to spasm. 
“Oh god,” he mutters as you contract around him.  “oh—oh, God, baby.” 
As you finish coming on Joel's cock, your whole body relaxes. You’re even wetter and more open than you were before. “Now you’re–oh yeah, you’re good,” Joel whispers to himself with his hands on the backs of your thighs. You both breathe for a moment and you begin to slowly move again.
Joel licks his finger then reaches over your ass, his hand approaching your hole from behind. You stop moving as he gently wedges the thick digit into your cunt from the top so his fingernail is against his cock. “Yeah,” he whispers, moving the finger around, checking how much you'll stretch. “Yeah,” he says as his head turns and he glances at Tommy. 
Joel cups your cheek  and reads your face. “Can I fuck ya with two cocks, baby?” 
You spasm with an aftershock.  “It won't fit,” you protest, but the thought of it turns you on. Your hips begin to move again. You're taking his cock and his finger. 
“Can we find out, baby doll?” Joel asks.
You slowly move on his cock and finger, with your face close to his. Your clit is throbbing.  “You aren't worried to stretch me?”
“You'll snap right back, baby,” Joel pants as he wedges another finger in with his cock. 
“I dunno if I can,” you whine.  
“It’s okay, darlin’. Let's find out.”
“Okay,” you whisper. 
Tommy gets up on his knees and gets close to Joel's shoulder, near your head.  
“Get it nice and wet,” Joel tells you.  
Without getting off Joel's cock, you turn your head enough to accept Tommy's cock into your mouth. You let saliva pool under your tongue, then swirl it all over his shaft until he's dripping. “alright” Tommy whispers, then you deposit the rest of the saliva from under your tongue. “Alright, don't make me cum, sweetheart.” 
Tommy straddles Joel’s legs behind you while Joel hugs you close. 
Tommy nudges your occupied hole. Joel slowly removes his fingers and Tommy’s tip finds its place between the first cock and the back wall of your cunt. Once Tommy's tip is nestled there, Joel’s fingers leave you and both his hands hold your sides. 
“Deep breath,” Tommy whispers. You draw in a chest full of air, and when you begin to exhale, he begins to push in. 
It burns for a moment as Tommy’s cockhead breaches your dripping hole, but his smooth, wet cock feels better than the fingers. “Fuck,” Tommy mutters as he pushes further. 
“Daddy,” you whimper. “It's a lot.”
“I know it is, darlin’, you're doin’ so good.”
“Breathe with me, sweetheart,” Tommy whispers. You take deep breaths and try to relax. The burn fades as your body catches up.  The stretch is only a little uncomfortable around their shafts at the very edge of you. Deeper inside, you feel a fullness you couldn't have imagined.  
“Good,” Joel says. “doin’ real good, baby. You wanna keep goin’?” 
You nod. You take deep breaths and bow your head as Tommy sinks in a little more. 
“God damn, baby. Packed full of it, ain’t ya?”Joel marvels. The look on his face makes you twitch. 
You lock eyes with Joel, bite your lip, and nod. Joel tilts his hips down toward the bed and you groan into Joel’s chest as Tommy pushes into you as much as he can. The burn is fading, and the sense of fullness overwhelms you in the best way. It's not just physical. You close your eyes and savor it. Joel’s hips begin to move. He slides against your front wall, nudging just the right place, making you whimper. 
Tommy slides in rhythm, and his breathing is labored. “Ohhh,” he moans. “Shit-–ugggh.” He warns Joel, “I'm pretty close, brother.”
Joel looks like he's making a calculation behind his eyes. Then he reads your face. “You want double the cum, baby?” 
You nod. 
“That's my girl,” Joel whispers. “That’s my perfect lil girl.” His hips wiggle under you.
“Ohh-fff-uuggh” Tommy pants and pulls back. 
Joel moves his hips and slides within your stuffed hole. Tommy stays still while Joel thrusts a few small strokes and you groan. Tommy pushes forward and you sigh. Joel kisses you. You push back and Tommy slides forward. Joel does another slow thrust upward, then Tommy says “fuck,” pushes another inch, then begins to cum. “Oh god,” Tommy groans. His dick pulses and pulses in your packed cunt as his warm release coats your walls and Joel's cock. 
“Jesus,” Tommy sighs, then begins to pull out of you. The burn returns as the crown of his tip crests your entrance on its way out. Then you whimper in relief. There's a sense of loss as your body slowly draws itself back in, but it's a major comfort still being wrapped around Joel's cock. Tommy lies down on his back to recover. 
“You did so good baby,” Joel brushes your cheek and his hips lift as your body adjusts itself back to his girth. “Ya like havin’ two cocks?” It’s the first time you haven’t felt packed full from Joel’s cock alone, and your temples feel weak. 
You nod hesitantly. “Do I still feel good?”
“Oh darlin’, you feel so good,” he breathes and the tension melts away from your face. 
“Yeah, I liked it,” you whisper. “But I only need one.” 
He cradles your head and  it feels like it's just the two of you. “Love you so much,” he whispers, and brings your face to his again, rolling his hips under you. He kisses you deeply and grinds up into you with his cock all the way inside. Your mouth breaks away with a moan, and your hips begin to move, bringing an obscene squelching sound with them. 
“Oh darlin’,” Joel whispers, and he pulls you back into a kiss.  He grunts into your mouth with a sharp thrust upward, and the tension boils over.  You begin to clench around him. Joel breaks the kiss with a shudder, then he moans your name as you flutter around his cock. His fingers dig into your hips and he pulls you flush, then pulses with a groan. “Ohhhh, fuck—ohhh,” he sighs as he releases a massive load, more than doubling the cum inside you. The rhythm of Joel’s cock soothes you as his load combines with Tommy's. 
—--
You stay on Joel’s cock for a few minutes, and he strokes your back, praising you quietly.  Tommy falls asleep.  Eventually you sigh and whine, "I have to go to the bathroom.” 
“Ok, baby,” Joel whispers and begins to help you off his cock. 
When you come back, Joel helps you into bed between them. You face Joel and he kisses you good night. You feel thankful for him as you drift off to sleep. 
—-
sequel here
-
-
Thank you for reading 🖤 I know people want updates on certain Joels but I haven't been having the easiest time and sometimes writing something new is lower-pressure.
Uncle Tommy is a brain worm I've had for a couple months ever since I blurted it out in another series.
I have another recent Joel x reader ft. Tommy with a different set miller bros: leopard print
And a darker Tommy x reader here: birds of prey
-----
FIC RECS
If you like brotherly sharing, a couple of my personal favorites are
I can be your pretty girl part 4, and part 5 by (RIP) walkintotheriveranddisappear who sadly inactivated
Liquid Gold and its prequel Two Hands to Hold by @gasolinerainbowpuddles,
If you like the idea of daddy/uncle, @bonezone44 has Joel, tommy, and Ezra.
More brotherly sharing - Smack My Bitch Up, a raider AU by @milla-frenchy.
If you wanna suck Tommy's big balls, @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin has you covered.
More fic recs (and more to come) on my rec blog @toxicrecs.
Alright I tried to bring my tag list back and something went wrong so I might have to remove them from the post sorry 🥲
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plathfiles · 1 year ago
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Felix catton x reader where oliver is being really weird towards reader and felix is protective
gah this sounds excellent! thank you for the request!
pairing: felix catton x fem!reader
warnings: spoilers!!! bit of an au, language and light nsfw, stalking, obsession. one use of y/n
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It was your first summer at Saltburn and you and Felix were attached at the hip.
Reading together by the poolside, you were curled up to his chest and reading the Harry Potter book that was passed around the entire group that summer. Felix had just finished it and now it was your turn.
Felix was reading a book that you had recommended to him — “The Secret History” by Donna Tart. Getting board with reading, you sat yourself up. A groan escaped Felix’s lips and you smiled. “Just going for a swim, care to join?” You asked, turning to him.
He seemed tempted, but he couldn’t put his book down. You just had that good of taste. “Maybe after I finish this chapter love,” he said. You nodded and made your way to the pool.
A moment later and out of thin air, Oliver appeared next to you. Oliver was quite jealous of the fact Felix had invited both of you to Saltburn. He wanted Felix to himself but Felix couldn’t keep his eyes away from you.
“I can see you both love each other very much,” Oliver says slowly and calculated. He turns his head to meet your gaze and there is a glimmer in his eyes.
“We do,” you confirm, a smile creeping onto your face. You blushed.
“I can hear you in the next room,” Oliver said, making his way towards you. “I see how he fucks you and how much control he has over you,” he said, getting only slightly closer.
You back away, looking at him with some confusion. ‘Why would he watch you and Felix?’
“Felix and I’s relationship is none of your business Oliver,” you retorted, snappily.
Before Oliver could respond, Felix cannonball’s into the pool. Swimming over to you, he slides his arms around your waist.
“What are you talking about?” Felix asked, a slight bit aggressive. Then Oliver replied. “Oh nothing, just my party,” he shrugged lying, swimming away from the both of you.
You let it be, too stunned to speak.
Later that night, you and Felix had snuck away after dinner. You two were in the labyrinth, Felix’s hands pulling at your waist. His lips trailing kisses down your neck leaving love bites and little marks as he went.
“Felix,” you giggled, his touch soft but still tickling.
“What?” He smiled teasingly, moving a hand to brush some hair from your face. You both made eye contact. Felix was much taller than yourself and you enjoyed how he towered over you. He brushed some hair from your face and leaned into kiss you.
But you backed away in fright, from the corner of your eyes you could see someone in the bushes.
Felix grew concerned, having never seen you like this.
“Whats wrong?” Felix asked.
You saw a figure near a hedge, the person looked small and angry. You looked back to Felix. “It’s Oliver,” you whispered, hoping he would believe you.
Felix saw your frightened eyes and got up from on top of you. “Oliver?” He shouted to the dark.
You saw now that no one was there.
Felix turned to you, “Are you okay? Because no one was there,” he said, concerned.
You shook your head, standing up. “No I’m not alright. I just saw Oliver watching us, right after he told me today that he stalks us,” you said, tears forming in your eyes.
“Do you not believe me?” You asked Felix.
Felix came up to you and embraced you in a soft hug. “I believe you,” he said. “He lied about his family. I’m not sure what to do.” Felix added.
“He lied about his family?” You asked, growing more concerned. “He’s a psychopath,” you said, pulling away from Felix.
“I won’t let him hurt you,” Felix said, protectively. “I’ll get mum to throw him out right after the party tomorrow night,” he said.
You nodded, “stay by my side,” you said. Felix took your hand and kissed your forehead, “I won’t let him near you.”
The next night at the party, you were dressed as a nymph. There was glitter in your hair and on your cheeks. You wore an old silky night gown, which Felix said he couldn’t wait to take off later.
Felix had kept his word and stayed next to you the whole night. Elsbeth and Sir James loved the look of you two, enjoying yourselves and having fun.
You didn’t see Oliver anywhere and wondered where he could be lurking.
Towards the end of the night, Felix wanted to get you back to his bedroom. On the way up the stairs, you ran into Oliver.
Felix went infront of you, he wouldn’t let anything happen to you. Not from this lying creep. “Go away Oliver,” he said strongly.
“I wanted to explain myself,” he said, sounding drunk.
“We don’t want your explanations,” Felix replied. “You lied to me and my family. And then you admitted to stalking me and y/n,” he said.
Oliver came closer, “I just wanted to be your friend. One of the group.” He said pathetically.
Felix went to move past Oliver, you following behind. As you went passed Oliver he tried to grab you and Felix turned to punch him in the face.
“Don’t touch her!” Felix yelled, causing some faces, including the Catton family and Farleigh to see.
Oliver in his drunken state missed a couple steps and fell. Not terribly injured he propped himself up. He was gone from Saltburn the following morning.
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elllisaaa · 4 months ago
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EARNED IT - P. JONGSEONG
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KINKTOBER DAY 4 - PRAISE KINK + MARKING
SUMMARY : after you did a successful presentation for jay's class, he feels the need to reward his favourite student in a very inapropriate way.
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-> pairing : teacher!jay x student!reader
-> words count : 1.9k
-> genre : smut
-> warnings : fem!reader, soft dom!jay, praise kink (obviously), marking (on both), little bit of teasing, dirty talk, begging, use of 'good girl', little bit of dry humping, clothed sex, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, implied oral (f. receiving) and cum eating
+ the way i'm depicting jay does not represent him, it's only a work of fiction
-> 18+ content bellow, minors DNI
-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language.
-> masterlist | ateez masterlist | kinktober 2024
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“- And that’s basically how genetic modifications work. Thank you all for listening to my presentation.”
You smiled at the class as some applause erupted, but your smile was mostly directed to Jay. His own smile responded to you, his eyes glimmering proudly behind the lenses of his glasses, and you felt your stomach do flips as he stared at you. 
“- Thank you very much Y/N, you can go back to your place. Next is Sunoo, you can go up to the board and start whenever you’re ready.” 
Despite Sunoo being in the middle of his presentation, Jay couldn’t help stealing glances your way. After all, he did promise you a reward if you did good this time. You kind of failed your last presentation for his class, and Jay knew that you could do a whole lot better if you had the motivation to do so. So he effectively found something that pushed you to give the best of yourself this time - and it worked. 
You were restless for the remaining time of the class, looking at the clock every two minutes in hopes that time would pass by quicker, and nervously clicking your pen. And the fact that you could feel Jay’s eyes on you the whole time didn’t help either. So when he finally announced the end of the class, you were up on your feet almost immediately, though you had to resist the urge to pack up your things too quickly, letting everyone get out before you made your way to Jay’s desk as he locked the door behind the last student. 
“- So… How did I do this time Sir ?”
Your tone was a little teasing, with a hint of suggestion, as you walked closer to him, bypassing his desk, your head tilted to the side as if you were really waiting for an answer from him - an answer you already had.
“- Better, much better. You can be proud of yourself, I can tell you worked hard for this. And I’m proud of you too.”
His words had you clenching your thighs together as a smirk grew on your face. Everytime some praises fell from Jay’s lips, your knees grew weak and you felt yourself melting. It was crazy how little work he needed to put in to make you fold. 
“- I’m glad I’ve met your expectations.
- You did even better than that, Y/N. Come here, so that I can give you what you deserve for being such an excellent student.”
Your eyes sparkled with lust as you took a step closer to Jay, sitting on his lap and letting yourself go to the feeling of his lips devouring yours. You were already wet, your panties soaked both from how much you anticipated what was coming and from how much his encouraging words had turned you on. The frame of his glasses felt uncomfortable against your skin as you tilted your head to the side, letting Jay explore every inch of your mouth, but you didn’t care about that, you just needed him to tell you that you did good. It was something you became addicted to - the way he always found the right words to make you go dumb on him.
And you always did your best when it came to Jay, be that during his classes or when you were on your knees for him - no matter the time, you just had that urge to be good for him, you were always eager to please him. And Jay loved that, loved how you always put your all into your homeworks, and even more when you were doing your best to take him whole. But today, you deserved a very good reward and Jay planned on making you cum over and over. 
His hands roamed all around your body, slipping under your cute pleated little skirt to squeeze at the flesh of your ass. You moaned into his mouth, your back arching and your breasts pressing against his toned chest. You always reacted so vividly to every one of his touches, always squirmed under his fingertips ; and Jay liked to know he had such an effect on you. 
“- I’m gonna make you feel good princess, gonna make you cum on my fingers, and then on my tongue, and then on my cock, yeah ?
- Yes, please…”
Your voice was shaking, interrupted here and there by pants as you unconsciously grinded against his thighs, eyes filled with a desperate lust that made Jay want to ruin you even more. 
“- I don’t ever need to ask for you to say please, such a good girl.”
Jay smirked as he heard you whine at his words. He knew exactly what they did to you, exactly how to rile you up and make you want him more. Your hands were tugging at his shirt in a vain attempt of undressing him, in a vain attempt to touch his naked skin, but Jay pushed your hands away as he lifted you in arms, wrapping them around your waist as he stood up to drop you on his desk. 
“- No touching me this time baby, let me just make you feel good, okay ?”
You nodded as you bit down on your lips, watching closely as Jay slipped back his hands under your skirt, his palms running across your thighs as you sighed in relief. You knew better than to argue with him when he had an idea in mind - and especially when this idea involved you and your pussy. Finally, he pressed against your clit over the material of your panties, bringing you a rush of pleasure that made you whine under your breath.
“- You’re already soaked… So fucking perfect for me.”
Every one of his words made you more desperate, and you both knew it. So when Jay ended up pushing your underwear out of his way to insert one of his fingers inside of you, neither of you were surprised about the way you immediately threw your head back, whimpering his name. And when he added another finger not too long after, you were already trembling on top of his desk. Maybe it was because you were very sensitive, but Jay was also too good with his fingers for you to keep it together. 
“- Jay…
- That’s it princess, let it go, yeah ? Be a good girl and cum for me, cum on my fingers.”
You didn’t need more than that to tip over the edge, clenching around his fingers and making it difficult for Jay to keep moving them, his thumb intensifying the pressure against your clit to compensate for it. He kept his thrusts steady until you were telling him that it was too much. At this point, Jay was barely holding on - seeing you come undone from his fingers only, moaning his name, sitting on top of his desk made something snap in him. He quickly unbuckled his belt, not caring about undressing himself completely, simply getting his cock out and spreading your legs wider. His tip bumped against your already sensitive folds, making you whimper once again as he coated his dick in your slick.
“- You’re ready to take me, baby ? You’re ready to show me that you can be even better for me ?
- Yes, yes, I’ll be good Jay, please…”
Your begs were all that Jay needed to push his whole length inside of you, not thinking twice as he took a hold of your waist for some leverage, instantly starting to thrust into you. You wrapped your arms against his neck, burying your face against the crook of his neck to muffle your moans as his rapid pace made you lose your mind already. 
“- You feel so good Y/N, so tight and nice around me, it’s like you were made for me. Taking me so well… Fuck, your little cunt looks even better when I’m filling you up…”
Everything he said was getting to your head, your hips moving along to match with his thrusts. He wasn’t able to go as deep as usual because of the position you were in, but his thick length felt even better this way - you could feel every drag of his shaft against your walls, stimulating all the right areas to make you moan against his skin. You knew you were being loud, that someone could easily hear the both of you from outside of the classroom, but you didn’t care enough to do something about it. Still, you started to suck some hickeys on the exposed skin of his skin, biting on the flesh sometimes, but it was more in order to mark your territory than for silencing your noises of pleasure.
“- You don’t know how crazy that skirt made me go, all I wanted was to bend you over my desk and fuck you just like this, shit… You’re so perfect, squeezing me so good…”
Jay was more rambling than trying to be coherent at this point, and he knew you were getting closer by the way you were hopelessly holding on to his shoulders as his hips snapped forward at a steady pace. And he was glad because he knew he won’t be able to hold back for much longer either, the way you were marking up his skin was driving him crazy with want, with the need to feel you up and mark you in an even more intimate form. 
“- Are you close princess ? Are you going to milk me dry ?
- Hmm… Y-Yeah, ‘m so close… Please, don’t stop, please…
- I’m not stopping, come on, cum like the good girl you are.”
Jay felt your teeth dig into his neck as you squeezed around him even tighter, and you both moaned in harmony as he let go too, painting your walls white. Your legs were trembling on each side of him as your orgasm crashed over you like a hurricane ravaging everything on its path, and for a moment, you felt like you were floating in another dimension. It was only when you heard Jay call your name that you finally opened your eyes again, you looked up at him with a dazed smile that made him want to fuck you up all over again. But instead, he pulled out of you and got down on his knees, spreading apart your still shaking thighs. 
“- This pussy looks even prettier when it's covered in my cum, don’t you think ?
- I love it too.”
Your words were coming in short breath as you were still trying to come down off your high, but Jay heard them perfectly and he loved the sound of that. His lips soon followed the same trail his fingers had traced before - going from your knee and raising up higher on your inner thigh. Every spot he kissed and licked at was left with a deep, red mark. And every new spot he attacked made you squirm and whimper in his hold. Some of these bruises were going to be impossible to hide behind your little skirts, and your heart swelled with an emotion you shouldn’t feel for your teacher at the thought of someone else seeing them, at the thought of him having the exact same marks on his neck, some marks that you had left there. 
“- Gonna make you mine again. Gonna make you my perfect good girl.”
You moaned again at his words, letting Jay bury his face in between your thighs to eat you out like a starved man. And it didn’t matter if your roommate caught on the marks and asked you about it, and it didn’t matter either if another student called out Jay for the bruises that were visible above the collar of his white shirt. It didn’t matter because you were his good girl.
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-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my work.
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kinktober masterlist (comment or dm to be added) :
enha masterlist (fill in this to be added) :
@bbgnyx @hann1bee @heevllog @puppy-minnie @binniesbabygirl @foxinnie8 @lala-----------lala
@d-dilemma @bath1lda @anxiousskylar
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frost-queen · 11 months ago
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Tempting fate // part 2 (Reader!Featherington x Colin Bridgerton)
Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly @denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury,  @imagines-by-her,  @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn, @iixchloee, @cherrysxuya, @esposamultifandom, @dutifullyannoyingfox, @markive-m, @wolf-phoenix-lover, @mellowdreamlandpost-blog
Summary: Lady Whistledown strikes, making your family suffer underneath her swift pen. Will her wrath push Colin away or while he stand his ground and stay? [ part 1 & part 3 & part 4 & part 5 & part 6 & part 7 & part 8 & part 9 & part 10]
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Dearest gentile reader,
This author finds herself compelled to share this news. The ton are abuzz with the latest gossip, and so it is my honour to impart to you; Y/n Featherington. The middlest of Featheringtons. One would ask what might occur for her name to fall of interest to this author. Well let this author share you all about Y/n Featherington…
Papers got stacked on each other. – “Get this out immediately. Those were the orders.” – one of the boys said taking a stack of pamphlets and giving it to the little kid. The kid nodded and ran out of the door. – “The latest Whistledown edition!” – he called out waving a pamphlet in his hand. No one was around yet on the streets, yet he felt compelled to shout it. Running as fast his little legs could carry him, he went to deliver an edition at each house of the ton.
Lady Featherington was still in her nightwear when she got woken up. A pamphlet of Lady Whistledown given to her. Baffled she accepted the pamphlet that got placed in her hands with haste. She turned the pamphlet around so she could read it. Her gaze fell immediately on a name. Her daughters name. Before reading anything more, she rushed out of her room. Knocking on each door of her daughter’s rooms. – “Wake up children!” – she called out.
You opened the door, rubbing your eye. – “What is it mama?” – you questioned as your sister Penelope appeared in her door opening as well. – “All of you downstairs.” – your mother spoke excitedly. – “What for?” – Philipa yawned out . You shrugged your shoulders at your sister, following Prudence down the stairs. Philipa groaned annoyed, ruffling her hand through her bed hair.
Penelope was the last to go downstairs, not having said a word. Mama orchestrated for you all to sit down. Philipa and Prudence sat beside each other. You sat before them on the ground. Penelope sitting alone in an armchair. – “We have been mentioned.” – mama spoke delighted, showing them the pamphlet.
“We have?” – Philipa answered curious. – “Was I mentioned too?” – Prudence asked. – “Y/n was.” – mama spoke as your eyes widened. – “I was?” – you spoke cautiously. Prudence lowered her hand on your shoulder. You took it, giving it a comforting squeeze. – “This is excellent news girls. We are finally getting noticed. Lady Whistledown finally agrees just how important we are as a family.” – mama went on. You looked up to your sisters with a hopeful smile.
You wanted nothing more for your sisters to receive the attention of noble men. For your family had not been so lucky in finding a match. – “Have you read it properly?” – Penelope said making you all look at her. Mama chuckled nervously. – “Well no… but what wrong can she write about my girls?” – Mama replied slowly getting insecure.
Philipa extended her hand wanting to read the pamphlet. Philipa got up approaching mama as she wasn’t getting it as fast as she wanted it. Philipa took the pamphlet from her, reading the first lines out loud till her words faded out to a whisper. Her eyes wide.
“What is it?” – you asked seeing the worry in your sister. – “Philipa?” – Mama spoke frightened. Philipa lowered the pamphlet, looking over at you. – “It’s about you sister… not in the nicest way.” – Philipa answered. – “Let me see.” – mama snatched the pamphlet out of her hands to read it for herself. Her hands clenched around the paper, her expression hardening. – “What is it?” – you repeated more worried.
Mama started reading a bit out loud. A section where all your flaws were openly explained. Your insecurities. How you would seduce any man just for attention. How from between your sisters, you might have the ugliest personality. Lies spread out in ink as you were none of those. Mama gasped desperately touching her forehead in distress.
You turned your head, laying it against your sister’s knees, sobbing loud. Prudence lowered her hand on you, wanting to comfort you. – “But mama that isn’t true.” – Prudence spoke defending you. – “It doesn’t matter if it is true or not! The entire ton will read this!” – she threw the pamphlet on the ground from distress.
You wiped some tears away, reaching for the pamphlet. You wanted to read it for yourself. See how lady Whistledown had dragged you through the mud. Ruined perhaps your reputation forever. For who would want to marry such a disgrace now? A girl who found pleasure in seeking men’s attention till they bored her out and she needed another one.
Reading the insults about you, made you cry loud. Prudence took the pamphlet from you, tearing it apart. You looked at your sister Penelope. Seeing her avoid eye contact. Her emotions well-hidden as she appeared unbothered. – “I am sorry mama.” – you cried out not sure why you were apologizing. Mama needed to sit down, too distressed to respond. You got up running up to your room, crying your heart out.
At the Bridgerton house it was still early. A few siblings in the Parlor. There was a knock on the door. Eloise gasped excitedly, jumping up. She rushed up to the man with a platter. A few editions of Lady Whistledown on them. She grabbed one eagerly, reading it with a flush on her cheeks. Her excitement faded out as she read more. – “What is it Eloise?” – Violet asked curious. – “Is it not exciting?” – Violet finished. – “No.” – Eloise responded. – “It is rather hurtful.” – she went on.
“Hurtful?” – Benedict questioned. – “It doesn’t feel like Lady Whistledown.” – Eloise outed. – “What has she written then?” – Anthony wanted to know. – “It’s all about Y/n Featherington.” – Eloise responded. Colin’s head lifted up with wide eyes.
He got up, going over to her to take the edition from her. He read a few lines as his expression tensed. – “Colin?” – Violet blinked confused when her son stormed out of the Parlor without a word. Violet asked for an edition, wanting to read for herself. She gasped, pressing her hand against her chest.
There were loud knocks on the door. Rushed and demanding to be opened. The door opened as he barged in, out of breath. The door from the Parlor opened as Penelope walked out. – “Oh Colin.” – she said happily at the sight of him. – “Why are you here?” – she asked curious. Colin rushed over to her, holding the pamphlet up. – “Where is Y/n?” – he wanted to know. Penelope changed her attitude just a smidge. – “Has she read this?” – he asked panting.
Penelope nodded. Colin exhaled concerned, wanting to move passed Penelope. Penelope moved, blocking his way. – “She doesn’t want to see you.” – she spoke. Colin stared with furrowed brows at her. – “I just want to speak to her. Make sure she is alright.” – Colin insisted upon, stepping aside, but Penelope followed his movement, blocking his path once more.
“She doesn’t want you.” – Penelope outed making Colin stared shocked down at her. Colin held the pamphlet up again. – “Lies! All of this are lies about Y/n. How can you stand here so coldly when your sister has been hurt?” – he wanted to know why she acted so coldly or unbothered. – “How am I to know it isn’t true?” – Penelope responded.
Colin gasped surprised. – “She’s your sister!” – he called out to her. – “Y/n would never…” – he breathed out. – “I must ask you to leave.” – She spoke showing him the door. – “But…” – Colin sputtered against her, but got pushed back by her. She practically showed him out. The door got slammed in his face. Puzzled he stared at the door, not familiar with that side of Penelope. With no other choice, he returned home. Hoping his actions might have not been the cause for these lies.
He never intended for you to be targeted. In that moment, he just wanted to show you, that his subtle signals had been projected onto you. It was you who he wanted to court. It was you who he felt compelled to marry. Not your sister Penelope. It was innocent to kiss you. He should’ve never done it, but he needed a way for you to see. For you to finally think of yourself instead of always thinking of your sisters first. Always putting them to the front and chase after their happiness while you forgot about yourself.
That was who you were. A sister who would defend and glorify your sisters at any given time. Not whatever lies lady Whistledown wrote about you. If he was being honest you had been pushing him away at any given time. Ignoring his clear signals as you could only think of your sister’s interests. Being blind that there was someone interested in you.
Mama took a deep breath. Tapping the fan in her hand into her palm. It was the clear the attention was on them. Phillipa and Prudence looking uncertain around. – “Chins up girls.” – Mama said with a plastered smile. You gulped soft, bringing your chin up to own your pride. Prudence took your hand for comfort. All of you started to walk. The crowd parting as you made your way through. It was almost unbearable to ignore the whispers. Seeing them huddle together to gossip.
Their glances and subtle points at you. You knew it must hurt your mama to be threated like this. The ton’s gossip as it did another dent in your reputation. One the Featheringtons didn’t have highly. It was hard to keep your head up. Hands were shaking as you rather disappeared. Be invisible than be the centre of attention. Prudence squeezed your hand tighter, feeling them shake in hers.
Mama took a position in the room near the walls. She started fanning herself from the nerves. Everyone was still watching, staring, gawking at you. Mama slapped her fan hard in her hand with a mean glare. Some men cleared their throats, looking immediately away. They slightly turned their posture to chatter again.
You stood beside mama, seeing how everyone did a great turn around you. Not daring to come near as if you had some sickness. – “Mama, perhaps I should head home.” – you told her. Thinking your presence was causing the illness. You were after all the reason for the gossip. – “No!” – mama answered firmly. – “That would not change anything.” – she sighed out. You hated being the cause of her worries. Deep down, you knew a part of her was disappointed in you.
Discontent you had shone such a light on the family. Your gaze fell on your sister Penelope. Seeing a certain glance in her eyes, made you furrow your brows. Something bitter in them. Holding her gaze felt threatening as you quickly looked away. – “This was supposed to be our season.” – Mama spoke, slapping her fan down her dress.
“Now look at us.” – She started fanning harder with one hand on her hip. – “Can we fall any lower?” – she sighed out. Feeling called out, your eyes became watery. You bowed to mama, before your tears could run like water. Leaving their side to disappear into the gardens. Wiping your cheek, you couldn’t hold it dry.
Hastening outside, you were greeted by a cold breeze. – “Y/n!” – you heard your name being called out. Seeing over your shoulder, it was Colin. Shaking your head, you kept walking. Colin rushed over not letting you slip through his fingers. – “Y/n.” – he said loud catching up on you. Out of breath, he grabbed your wrist, pulling you to a stop. – “Y/n.” – he repeated softer, tugging on you, wanting you to look at him. You sniffed loud, wiping your cheek dry. – “I’m so sorry.” – he spoke with a saddened look.
You turned your posture more to him. – “It’s not your doing.” – you answered. – “I shouldn’t have…” – he shook his head feeling dumb. His gaze met up with yours once more. – “Please…” – he brought his hand up, letting it brush against your cheek. You smiled saddened between the tears. You took his hand that laid against your cheek, bringing it slowly down. – “You shouldn’t be seen with me.” – you replied taking a step back from him.
“I do not care.” – he outed. Shaking your head, you turned around, walking off. – “Y/n.” – Colin called out, coming after you. – “Think of your reputation Colin.” – you told him. – “The hell with it!” – he shouted putting you to a stop.
“The hell with it all!” – he added with wide arms. – “Colin!” – you called out returning to him with fury. – “It is not because you were not mentioned yet, you wouldn’t be mentioned by her.” – you told him with frustration. – “Let her do her worst.” – Colin answered in seriousness. – “You don’t understand Colin, this was personal.” – you told him till something cliqued.
This was personal. Things had been mentioned only those closest to you knew. Things Colin didn’t even know. Looking past Colin, your gaze focused on the glass windows from top to bottom. A bright yellow figurine catching your eyes. Narrowing your eyes, you saw her clearer. Penelope.
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Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!
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augment-techs · 1 year ago
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@lordkingsmith
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4theluvofsapphos · 2 months ago
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Maybe a cute little angst comfort turned smut where Lilia only ever hears you sing when you think you are alone because reader is self-conscious of their voice compared to Lilia. Confrontation ensues, sad revelation followed by some comfort, maybe a cute lil duet. And then some soft smut because, of course, Lilia wants to hear your pretty voice...
✧༝┉˚*❋ Sing for me, Birdy. (1/2) ❋*˚┉༝✧
[NSFW] - Lilia Calderu x Singer!Fem Reader
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Warnings: 18+ MDNI!, angst, hurt, bad self talk (R), comfort, use of pet names (L), Lilia wants Reader to 'sing' iykwim...*wink wink wink*, R is kind of pathetic idk HFJHSDf
A/N: WOOHOO WOOHOO W- I love you lilia never change...also patti lupone, ily2!! this was very fun to write, helped me distract from my period pains <3 love being a woman
I had to split this into two parts to keep myself motivated so here's part one KFSDKJf
The shadow of your smile…when you are gone
Will colour all my dreams…and light the dawn
The tune rolled off your tongue, quiet and tender in their crooning words. It would be times like these, in the early mornings when you would sing. Ever the romantic, you would sing about her. The object of your affections, the woman who swept you off your feet and yet kept you grounded all the same.
Lilia Calderu was an enigmatic woman to many. Kooky as she was sharp, aloof and yet somehow so knowing…She, who sang like a chorus of angels, or a raging stormy sea. 
Look into my eyes, my love, and see…
All the lovely things…you are
To me…
You sat in your cramped study– the apartment really only allowing for one desk and a comically small bookshelf to place your literary belongings in.
Your eyes were closed, flickering behind your eyelids were images of Lilia’s gentle smile…Her kind eyes, and those warm hands cupping yours as she shared much needed words of wisdom. 
Lilia, to you, was everything. 
She greeted you outside when you had first moved in across the hall, inviting you inside for a cup of tea, and a tarot reading. You hadn’t really been paying attention to what she said, more so how she said it.
Her deep amber eyes pierced you, seeing your being– as if cracking you open and reading the very letters of your soul. She probed your mind and asked you questions no one had ever considered asking, had you come to revelations about yourself that you never would have known unless she had asked. 
Something about her made you believe that she saw you.
She saw who you were, who you wanted to be, who you will be– all at once. She saw the purpose in your life, the mistakes, the victories. She saw every single little thing that made you who you were.
Our wistful little star...was far too high
A teardrop kissed your lips...and so did I
You were a singer, sure-- but Lilia...she was a Singer. You never found the words to describe the richness or strength of her voice-- none that would do it justice, at least.
But you never sang at home.
It was a sort of sheepish self consciousness mixed with the fear of being judged by someone who you thought to be far better than you were-- at what you considered your 'job'.
Many of your colleagues and bandmates believed your voice was of high excellence. You never entertained the idea, not really-- pitiful as it was.
On the stage you shined, glimmering like a thousand stars, but at home...in the one place where you should've felt safest, you grew scared. You curled up within yourself and closed up like some sort of singing oyster, never to reveal your pearl to anyone.
You were content to just...sing to yourself. Quiet and gentle, your little love songs would go unheard.
Now when I remember spring
All the joy that love can bring
I will be remembering
The shadow of your smile
...
Or so you thought.
A second voice filled the small space of your apartment, muffled only slightly through the thin plaster of the wall connecting you to the hallway.
Smooth and sweet like honey, Lilia's heavy vocals washed over you, causing you to forget yourself in that moment. Quickly, though, you realize you had left your door open a crack, allowing the sounds of your voice to leak into the hallway and across through Lilia's screen door. She must have heard you since you started, the thought mortifying you.
"Y/N, darling?" The older woman hummed, peeking her head through the crack of your door, hand pushing the door open just a little farther. Her wild curls framed her face in that way that made your heart ache, gaze steady and all-seeing as it often was.
"Lilia-!" You squeaked, nearly falling out of your chair as you attempted to stand, scrambling out from between your desk and running to open the door and let her in.
The witch had been in your home countless times at this point, usually resting on your couch opposite to your vintage recliner, sipping tea she brought over and listening to you talk about all your gripes with bandmates or clients. She would simply nod, clicking her tongue or tutting those "Idiot men", as she called them.
"Are you alright, Y/N? You're crying.." Her tone was gentle as she made her way into your room, her hands quickly finding your face and wiping the tears on your cheeks with her thumbs, soft and tender in their touch.
"L-Lilia, yeah-- yes, yes of course...I'm fine I just- You...did you hear me the entire time? I'm sorry, it was terrible, I know. My technique has been lacking and I- I-"
"Y/N." She breathed, one hand coming to your shoulder to shake firmly, maybe in hopes of shaking some sense into you. You stop your spiraling the moment you hear her pleading tone. "Listen to me, sweetheart. You need to stop this abhorrent self talk, always so deprecating towards yourself."
Your teary eyes searched hers, finding only earnest sincerity. "When you say such unkind things to yourself, you are hurting someone I care deeply about. And I cannot let that happen."
Lilia's hand wiped away more stray tears, reaching to your desk and pulling a couple tissues for you to wipe your nose and eyes with.
"I-I'm sorry, Lilia..." You murmured between sniffles, wiping your eyes and blowing your nose a couple times. She only chuckled in reply, shaking her head gently-- pursing those lovely lips of hers.
"Sorry for what? Singing one of the most beautiful renditions of a classic love song I've heard? Or for crying all over my cardigan? Because both are ridiculous reasons to be apologizing, so don't."
Your reddened eyes followed Lilia as she sat down on the couch at the end of the room, beckoning you to sit next to her.
Of course, you listened. A source of much needed comfort, Lilia wrapped her arms around you as you sat down, leaning against her body and sinking into her scent. Bergamot and lavender...a little bit of incense from her divination rituals...Her comforting warmth bloomed into your chest and body like a flower, rippling out into your fingers and toes with a surety that had your sniffles fading in minutes.
Her hands carded through your hair, rhythmic and grounding...her nails gently scratching at your scalp, your tears soaked up by her patchwork cardigan, forehead tickled by wild coils of silvery grey and gunpowder black.
In between your sniffles, you managed to look up at Lilia, your gaze so full of love and adoration as she held you, humming a little tune to calm your difficult emotions. Your hands came up to wipe your eyes, rubbing at your eye sockets until you saw sparkles behind your eyelids.
"Sorry-- for being a hot mess around you...I know it isn't your job to clean up after me, or take care of me...but-- thank you anyway. I really--" You paused, looking away from her kind eyes. "I really needed that...needed you." You mumbled, chewing the inside of your cheek at the admission.
"You...you needed me?" Lilia paused, her lips pursing as she scrutinized the sincerity of your comment. You nodded quickly, looking over to her and wiping your nose again.
"I did-- I do...I do need you-- I-I-.."
'I love you' You wanted to say, your lips twisting and turning and your tongue swelling to try and push the words out, but the sounds never came.
-
BOO HISS I know it was supposed to be a one parter but I literally feel so demotivated so take this for now.
this fic and it's second part dies if this isn't well received so pls like reblog anything PLSSS!!! (I need validation chat help)
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sweemmy · 4 months ago
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“Remember, dear, the key to being an excellent broadcaster isn’t just having a pleasant voice, but knowing how to use it to capture and hold your audience’s attention. Speak to them as if you’re sharing an intimate secret, something only they should know. Make every word feel as though it’s meant solely for their ears.”
Alastor's voice flowed smoothly, weaving through the air like a hypnotic melody, and it took hold of you in a way that felt almost suffocating. His red eyes glimmered with a dark amusement, a twisted joy in watching your reaction. There had always been something unsettling about him, a danger lurking just beneath his charismatic exterior. But tonight, that danger felt closer, more present than ever before.
“Do you understand what I’m saying?” His voice dropped lower, no longer just instructive but now filled with an edge of menace, as if testing how much you could handle. His gaze bore into you, evaluating, judging.
You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words press into you, constricting your breath. “Yes, Professor. I understand,” you managed to say, though your voice came out more fragile than you intended.
Alastor’s smile deepened, predatory, as he closed the distance between you with slow, measured steps. Each one made your heart beat a little faster, the tension building as his shadow loomed larger. Though he stood only inches away, it felt as though his very presence consumed the room, suffocating any sense of control you thought you had.
“Good,” he purred, his voice a whisper laced with satisfaction. “Then let’s test that understanding, shall we?” He handed you a script, his fingers brushing against yours for a fleeting moment, leaving a trail of warmth that lingered far too long. “But this time, I want you to read it as though you’re speaking directly to me, as if every word is a whisper meant only for my ears.”
You took the script with trembling hands, the paper feeling heavier than it should, as if it carried the weight of the moment. Your eyes skimmed the words, but focusing was difficult with him so close. His proximity was overwhelming, the heat radiating off his body like an invisible force that seemed to pull you in. You could feel the breath of his words still clinging to your skin, each syllable echoing in your mind like a spell.
“Slower,” he murmured, leaning in just enough that his lips brushed the shell of your ear. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine, making it hard to concentrate on the script in your hands. “Take your time. Control the rhythm of your words, just as you would control an audience. Let them hang on every syllable, every pause.”
You tried to follow his instructions, your voice faltering as you read. But it wasn’t just the words that were slipping from your grasp—it was your own control. You could feel his presence everywhere, an invisible hand guiding you, pushing you further into the depths of something you couldn’t fully understand.
Alastor’s hand slid down your arm, so light it was almost imperceptible, yet it sent a spark through you. His touch was both comforting and threatening, a duality that left you frozen in place. You knew you should resist, should step back, but instead, you found yourself leaning into him, letting his energy consume you.
“Better,” he said softly, though his tone was still thick with dominance. “But you’re holding back. I want more.” His fingers trailed down your spine, and every inch he touched ignited a fire under your skin. “You’re trying to control your voice, but you need to let go. Surrender yourself to the moment, to the power of your words.”
Your breath hitched as his hand came to rest on your waist, a subtle but unmistakable claim. He was testing you, not just your voice, but your will. And the worst part was that you could feel your own resolve crumbling, your body betraying you as it leaned further into his control.
“I... I don’t think I can,” you whispered, barely able to get the words out.
His laugh was low, almost sinister, as he tilted his head, his lips ghosting over your neck. “Oh, but you can, darling. You just don’t realize it yet.” His voice wrapped around you like a noose, tightening with every breath you took. “You’re not here to think. You’re here to feel, to experience the raw power of your own voice... and mine.”
Without warning, he plucked the script from your hands and tossed it aside, his actions deliberate and dismissive. “Enough of the formalities,” he said, his tone dropping to something far more intimate, more dangerous. “Now, I want you to speak from here.” His fingers brushed over your chest, just above your heart, and then moved downward, tracing a path that left your skin burning in their wake. “From your soul.”
Your heart pounded in your chest, the room growing hotter, more oppressive. His hand rested on your hip, pulling you gently but firmly toward him, and despite the alarm bells ringing in your head, you couldn’t resist. You didn’t want to. Alastor’s gaze was magnetic, a dark promise of pleasure and pain that made your knees weak.
“Control isn’t about restraint, my dear,” he whispered, his lips so close to your ear that his breath sent shivers down your spine. “It’s about knowing when to let go. To let someone else take the reins.”
Before you could react, his lips met yours, and the world seemed to stop. It wasn’t a gentle kiss. It was consuming, filled with a hunger that felt centuries old, as though he was devouring a part of you. And you... you gave it willingly. His hands moved with expert precision, tracing the curve of your body, igniting a fire that burned hotter with every touch.
Your mind screamed that you should stop, that this was wrong, that he was playing you like a puppet on a string. But your body, traitorous as it was, responded to his every command, melting under his touch.
“Alastor...” you gasped between kisses, but he silenced you with a look, his eyes burning with that same dangerous glint you had seen earlier.
“Shhh,” he whispered, his voice dark and velvety. “Now is not the time for words. It’s the time for surrender.”
His hands slid under your shirt, the cool air meeting your heated skin as he pushed the fabric away. Every movement was deliberate, calculated, as though he was savoring the moment. His fingers danced across your skin, making you arch against him, seeking more of his touch.
“You see?” he purred, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “This is what true control feels like. You think you’re helpless, but in reality, you’re exactly where you’re meant to be. In my hands.”
You tried to speak, to regain some sense of control, but the words died in your throat as his lips found yours again. This kiss was different—slower, more intense, as if he was drawing out the pleasure, savoring every second of your surrender.
The world around you seemed to blur, your senses overwhelmed by him—his scent, his touch, the sound of his voice in your ear, promising both salvation and damnation.
And in that moment, as his hands moved with precision, as his words wrapped around you like chains, you realized the truth: you were his. Entirely, utterly his. And there was no turning back.
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