#ANYWAY I got to be on the roof for a while to help with this vent. it's much shorter but more awkward to get to than the long vents!
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cantankerouscatfish · 6 months ago
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DJ's wife: I need your help. he dropped this, and wants me to throw it up to him, and I-- I can't do that. me: sure! I have an idea. me: *scrambles up the heavy wooden shelf under the vent DJ's working on, holds up the dropped socket* me: here ya go. DJ's wife: oh, yeah, I'm too afraid to do that! DJ: you SHOULD be. that's dangerous. but expeditious. thank you. me: *scrambles back down* ✨
if I'd tried throwing it, 100% guarantee it would've sailed past his head and ended up in the shrubs and weeds in the alley just like that wrench when we were working on the long vent. the ratchet parts are all stainless, so the 'wave a magnet around and hope for the best' method wouldn't work this time.
and that shelf can absolutely hold my weight. xP
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little-mimikyuwu · 1 month ago
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chososrightnipple · 5 months ago
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❝𝐤𝐧𝐲 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 + 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬❞
a/n: as usual, afab!body w/no gendered language. y'all i swear i'm back surely... i totally don't work five eight and a half hour shifts in a row after this... not at all.... anyway didn't include all of the hashira just because i don't want this to feel too overcrowded, might do a part two though if anyone wants a specific character. enjoy!
── დ ──
. *. ⋆ SANEMI SHINAZUGAWA
▸ face fucking. he loves taking his frustration out on your poor throat, especially after particularly drama filled hashira meetings. watching the way the spit dribbles past your lips and how your eyes roll into the back of your head so unashamedly.
▸ spit kink. he goes crazy for it fr. having you kneel in front of him as he takes ahold of your jaw. forcing your mouth open and instructing you to stick your tongue out before spitting. he moans so beautifully when you readily accept his gift and swallow.
▸ choking. he loves the feeling of wrapping his hands around your throat and squeezing, seeing how your cheeks redden. enjoying the choked gasps you struggle getting out with every thrust inside of you.
▸ degradation. he's got a mouth on him, that's for sure. insults upon insults thrown at you, practically babbling about how much you're a dirty whore- his dirty whore- the closer he gets to his orgasm.
▸ brat taming. breaking you down until your nothing but a shivering mess. you always just have to give him attitude, don't you? running your mouth until he's forced to put you back in your place.
. *. ⋆ GIYUU TOMIOKA
▸ hair puling. both giving and receiving. shamelessly moaning anytime your fingers brush against his scalp, yanking at the hair while his tongue licks at your trembling walls.
▸ body worship. he's so fucking in love with you and that's especially in the bedroom. he spends hours memorizing your body, trailing your curves, kissing at the dips in your skin. all before he even thinks of fucking you.
▸ bondage. intricately tying your wrists and ankles to bedposts, the roughness of the rope scratching at your skin with every pull. he'll stand above you for a few seconds after, just watching how you squirm against the restraints.
▸ cock warming. sometimes he's just so bone tired from it all. he just needs to feel you, nothing more. sitting you on his lap and sinking his cock into your welcoming walls. face burying into your neck and savoring the feeling.
▸ sensory deprivation. goes kind of hand in hand with his love of tying you up. he has an extensive collection of silk ribbons, in all kinds of colors, that he'll have you model for him later that night.
. *. ⋆TENGEN UZUI
▸semi-public. he's so daring with it, really. when he wants you, he wants you, and he's not ashamed of that. fucking you in too small closets as maids at the butterfly mansion pass by, or on the top of a roof where nightlife bustles below.
▸ size kink. he's fucking huge, towering over you in every sense of the word. seeing how your lips struggle stretching around his cock or how small your hand is compared to his- it drives him absolutely insane.
▸ breeding. my god please don't get me started on this.., he wants to cum inside of you so bad, anytime and every time he fucks you. thinking of how sexy you'd look all round with his baby!!
▸ humiliation. just like sanemi, this man has a mouth on him. seeing how your cheeks redden and you stutter anytime he calls you out on being such a whore for him- it's adorable, he just can't help it.
▸ orgasm denial. such a tease with it, too. lets you think he's gonna let you cum this time around, only to pull completely away from your skin as soon as your on that edge. cooing at how you cry at him, apologizing for being so mean, even if he doesn't really mean it.
. *. ⋆KYUOJURO RENGOKU
▸ breeding. best friends think alike, right? pls just make this man a daddy already. he's so desperate for it. rutting inside of you for the third time in a night, all to cum inside your pretty pussy.
▸ cunnilingus. oh, he is such a big pussy eater. sometimes it's just so much with him. large arms wrapping around the thighs that squeeze either side of his head, lapping at your pussy like it's his last meal and he's a man starved.
▸ eye contact. grabbing at your jaw, forcing your gaze to his, instructing you to keep it there. he's eyes are so intense, so fiery. boring into you with every thrust inside- taking in the dilation of your pupils and the flutter of your pretty eyelashes.
▸ overstimulation. most times he doesn't even mean to do it, y'know? you just feel so good, and he's chasing that high over and over again until you're jelly in his arms, feeling pleasure so painfully.
▸ dry humping. his favorite foreplay. the atmosphere thick as you both huddle close, grinding and frotting against each other. anything for friction. until he gets so desperate for your touch that he's ripping your clothes off right then and there.
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no-144444 · 2 months ago
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guilt tripping- o.piastri
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summary: oscar asks something of you that you know you can't do. you do it anyway and it ends in you two almost breaking up. almost.
pairing: oscar piastri x fem! chronic illness! reader
a/n: hey yall, I just broke two ribs (lol) and got diagnosed with a chronic illness (lmao) so I might not be posting as frequently- just dealing with it physically and mentally so yah 😹
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“I don’t know if I can go,” you sighed, feeling even worse. 
“That’s alright,” he assured you, but you could hear the way his excitement depleted and his mood lowered. 
“M-maybe I can work something out, I don’t want to leave you alone,” your guilt grew everyday, this wasn’t healthy for either of you. 
“I don’t want you over-exerting yourself,” he spoke softly into the phone. “I’ll just ask mum if she has any friends that want to go or something. She always brings a million people with her.”
“I don’t want to leave you hanging Oscar. Melbourne is a big race. I’d be happy to come over like a week before, and then come to the race once I’ve had a few days to heal,” you bargained. A 22 hour connecting flight was not something you’d ever wanted to do. You couldn’t do it. You knew the pain would be too bad, yet you still stood there, offering it anyway. “And then I’d come for the race on Sunday, or just small bits on all the days.”
“Really?” his voice picked up, excited now. “You’re sure?”
“I’m sure Osc, I love seeing you race,” your smile was more of a grimace than anything, but still, the guilt in your chest lessened as you listened to Oscar speak animatedly about the race weekend, while your anxiety ran through the roof. You couldn’t do all the things he wanted you to do, you never could. This had been a problem at the beginning of your relationship, every time he’d plan a date that wasn’t dinner or a movie, you’d have to break the news that a 15 kilometre hike wasn’t something you’d be able to do on a whim. Things like that took planning, physio, and preparation. Your chronic illness was no joke, and had limited you since you were a teenager. In the past few years he’d gotten much better at everything, from helping you with your physio exercises, attending pilates classes with you, knowing what to do on bad pain days, and always looking out for you in public. You knew he was just getting away with himself, and you didn't want to disappoint, so you agreed to it all, hoping against hope that it wouldn’t be a bad week of pain or flare-ups wise. 
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You got into Melbourne and sobbed when you got in the car. Thankfully, it was Hattie picking you up, so she just held your hand as you silently cried, the joint and too much to bear. You went straight to bed as Hattie explained to the rest of the house that you were exhausted, and Oscar took it at face value. You usually get extremely tired after long days, and you’d just had a 22-hour day of travel. 
“I’ll go check on her-” he started, desperate to see you but Hattie cut him off. 
“NO!” she squeaked, trying to not sound suspicious. Oscar raised an eyebrow. “She’s really tired and she’s already gone to sleep.”
“Yeah, well I’m tired so I’m going to bed,” he explained, stretching then yawning. 
“Osc,” Hattie sighed, knowing she had to tell him. “She’s not… alright. She can’t do 22 hour travel days like you or I can. She has Lupus and she’s still trying to figure out her medication, so it hurts all the time. She cried from the airport to here, all to support you because you asked her to, and she feels guilty every single time she can’t say yes. She’s done real damage to herself by coming here. I want you to understand that, do you understand that?” 
Oscar nodded, because the other option was breaking down into tears. Yes, he’d felt guilty that he couldn’t be there to take care of you while travelling, and he knew he was asking a lot of you when he asked. The guilt settled deep in his stomach and made him nauseous, but still he continued on to his bedroom where you were sleeping peacefully. He could see the puffy eyes, the red nose, the open bottles of medication on the nightstand. He wrapped an arm around your waist, another in your hair and pulled you as close as possible, whispering teary sorrys into your ear. 
When you woke up the next morning, you knew what you had to do. This wasn’t fair on either of you, and you needed to make a change. You quickly (but silently) got up, and started to leave the room, but Oscar grabbed ahold of your hand before you could leave. 
“Please don’t sneak out on me,” he begged, sitting up. He looked wrecked, puffy eyes, red rose- had he been crying? God, had you made him cry? 
“Osc, what’s wrong?” you asked, concern clear as day on your face as you cupped his face with your hands.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I knew I was asking too much when I asked you to come here, I’m so sorry.”
Your heart tightened in your chest. “Osc, I’m alright, I was just tired last night and-”
“Hattie told me,” his voice was deep, deeper than usual, and he pressed a gentle kiss to your hand. “And I’m so sorry.”
“Osc, I could’ve said no if I didn’t think I was able for it,” you tried to reassure him but he shook his head. 
“Y/n, you did say no and I didn’t take it as an answer,” he scoffed. 
You were stunned into silence. “I think we need to have a talk about us, Osc.”
He nodded, taking your hands in his. 
“This isn’t fair on you. I know I can't control my illness, and neither can you. It sucks, but it’s a fact. I wish I could be there for every single race and cheer you on with the other girls, but I can’t. It’s not in the cards for me right now, and I don’t know when it will be. Oscar, I love you so much, and you’ve been with me through everything and I know you deserve someone who can always be there for you, and I’m not that person right now. I love you but I know it’s not enough,” You finally looked at him and he was biting his lip as tears streamed down his cheeks. “I’m sorry.”
He shook his head and stood up, dropping your hands as he paced his bedroom. “You know how much I love you, don’t you?” he asked and you nodded as you held back more tears. “So you know that I still feel your support even when we’re in different time zones or on different continents, right? You know that I value you being in as little pain as possible more than being at the barricade after a race, right? You know that I fucking love you more than I love racing, right? Y/n, I’ve been here the entire time, since we were 14 years old. You’re the reason I get in the car, you make me better, all the time it’s just you. I plan on being with you for my whole life, Y/n. I want to be there for everything. I plan to sit there through every appointment about medication until you find the one that actually helps you, I plan on being there for every day where you don’t feel up to it, I plan on being there for you, always. I never want to let go of you, and yeah, it is nice to be able to see you after a race, and I know that because fucking facetime exists. If you still want to break up because I fucked up by asking you to come here, go ahead, but don’t ever think that I’m without because I’m with you. I am so in love with you, Y/n. I mean it. I want to marry you one day, I want a family with you, I want to be old with you so we get to reminisce on the good ol’ days and make some more while we have time. ‘The good ol’ days’ will be the days I spend with you. More than any race win, more than any trophy, or than anything. My favourite part about a race weekend is coming home because I know no matter what my result was, you’ll be there with open arms, loving me anyways. You’re more than enough for me.”
You crossed the room and wrapped your arms around him, crying into his hoodie as he held you. “I love you too.”
After a few moments of both of you calming down, he finally spoke. “Can you forgive me for being such an asshole?” he asked, wiping his eyes. 
You nodded, a small smile on your face. “I can, can you forgive me for being such an idiot?”
He chuckled. “You’re no idiot,” he picked you up and gently placed you back on the bed lying beside you. “I love you.” 
“I love you too.”
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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)
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janiehellion · 5 months ago
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Healing Touch
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ONESHOT
ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: When Daryl Dixon is injured and stuck in bed, he’s not exactly thrilled about the idea of being pampered by the group. But you? You’re more than ready to take care of him—and show him just what it means to be a good boy. Think Daryl Dixon’s all rough and tough? Think again...
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: DARYL DIXON X READER
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: SMUT / HANDJOB / TEASING / EDGING / ORGASM DENIAL
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 4.033
ꜱᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ: S2E05—ᴄʜᴜᴘᴀᴄᴀʙʀᴀ & S2E06—ꜱᴇᴄʀᴇᴛꜱ
MASTERLIST & REQUEST GUIDELINES
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You wiped the sweat from your forehead, the Georgia sun burning down on you as you walked over to Maggie and Glenn outside of the house on Hershel's farm.
Every so often, you'd look towards the cars where a few others in the group were working, trying to make the most of the now limited supplies you all had left at the moment.
"I got a lot of corn here," Maggie said, holding up a can. "Maybe we can make some soup tonight. What do you think?"
Glenn laughed, "Soup sounds fine, I think. As long as we don’t have to eat beans again. I think I’m starting to sprout beans myself."
"Hey Maggie," you shouted over to her. "How’s everything going so far? You two need any help?"
Maggie gave you a small, but rather distracted, smile. "It’s been a quiet run, so we’re okay. We just came back a few minutes ago with some new supplies."
You nodded. "That's good. Means we won't starve anytime soon. Hey, listen, I heard Daryl’s still inside the house. Do you know how he is feeling? I really hope he is feeling better. Everything that has happened, I just... I don't know. I still can't wrap my head around it."
"Well, dad took care of him, just like he did with Carl, so I wouldn't worry too much about his condition. And if it would've worsened, dad would've told Rick already, that's for sure. But what has happened to him out there, and then the bullet? I don't know him well enough, but I think that he’s too stubborn to admit he even needed help in the first place. And that ear necklace? I'm sorry, but that was beyond creepy."
You remembered… Daryl has been out there, trying to find Sophia again. Of course, it all had to go sideways. You didn't know the details exactly, but you remembered how he had dragged himself back to the farm, looking like he’d been through hell and back. Covered in dirt and blood, and barely conscious.
Then, just when things couldn’t get any worse, Andrea took a shot at him from the roof of the RV. She’d been told to hold off by Rick, Shane, and Dale, but she fired anyway, hitting Daryl in the head, with the bullet grazing his temple.
"I’ll check on him," you now said, putting the supplies aside again. "You're right, he's too stubborn to admit it, but he needs someone to make sure he’s not pushing himself too hard. And if he could, he'd already be out there again."
As you walked towards the farmhouse, you passed by Rick, who was busy organizing and looking through different maps. He looked up at you, giving you a nod. "Hey," he said, his voice sounding rather exhausted. "Are you going to check on Daryl? Or are you going to help Beth and Lori in the kitchen?"
You nodded. "Yeah. I’m going to make sure he’s okay. Daryl's been through hell while trying to find Sophia."
"Good idea. He’s definitely been through a lot, that's true. I mean, we all have. But just… be careful with him. You know how Daryl is."
You laughed, shaking your head. "I know, Rick. That’s why I’m going to make sure he stays put and tied to the bed. Don't worry."
As you walked into the farmhouse, you could hear a voice coming from the kitchen, where Lori was preparing a meal with Beth together for Daryl and the rest of the group.
"Hello," Lori said and looked at you. "Are you going to see Daryl, or do you want to help us? Rick has been annoying me with me apparently needing help, even though Beth is helping me already."
You nodded, giving her a smile back. "Don't worry, Lori. I want to make sure Daryl's alright, you know, after everything that has happened lately."
She gave you a quick and thankful thumbs up before you continued heading to the room in which Daryl was in, but paused for a moment in front of the door, taking a deep breath. The thought of Daryl lying there, probably still hurt and so vulnerable, made your heart ache. He’d always been so strong, but seeing him in such a state was hard to imagine. And just as you were about to open the door, you heard a voice coming from the inside of the room.
You stopped, listening for a moment before pushing open the door to find Hershel standing by Daryl’s bedside.
"Evening, Hershel," you said as you entered the room, trying to keep your tone neutral despite the knot of nervousness in your stomach.
Hershel looked up, smiling at the sight of you. "Hey there, good to see you. I could use an extra pair of hands."
You moved closer to the bed, where Daryl lay, and Hershel continued, "Daryl’s been in and out of consciousness yesterday most of the time, but I’m hopeful he’ll recover fast if he gets the rest he needs. And if you could help changing the rest of the bandages right now, that would be great."
You nodded, taking a closer look at Daryl. "Sure, I’ll do whatever I can to help. I know he can be stubborn, but he needs to take it easy eventually."
"That’s the spirit. I’ve done what I can for now. He’ll need the rest."
You were still looking at Daryl as Hershel took a few steps back, who now moved slightly at the sound of your voice. His eyes opened just a little bit, and he looked at you with confusion.
"Hey, tough guy," you said. "How are you holding up so far?"
"Just peachy, as always," he answered rather annoyed.
You couldn’t help but smile at his answer. He certainly sounded like the Daryl Dixon that you all knew so far. "Well, I’m here now, so you’d better let me take care of you."
Hershel gave you another nod before finally walking out of the room. "Good, I’ll leave you to it. If you need anything, like more bandages, don’t hesitate to ask. We still got enough medical supplies left if needed."
"Thanks, Hershel," you replied, watching as he left the room.
You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the task ahead.
"What’re ya even doin’ here?" Daryl suddenly mumbled. "'M fine. Don’t need no babysittin’ bullshit. Ain't needin' ya 'round here either."
You gave him a smile, trying to hide how annoyed you already were with his usual behavior. "You’re obviously not fine, Daryl. You’ve been through a lot, and you know it. I’m here to make sure you don’t do anything stupid, like trying to get up and do something you shouldn’t."
He grumbled in frustration, trying to turn away from you. "Yeah… whatever."
You raised an eyebrow, shaking your head. "Yeah... Too bad, huh? Because right now, that means letting me help you."
"Ain’t nothin’ you can do that Hershel didn’t already do," he mumbled again.
You set down the small medical kit Hershel had brought with him and pulled a chair closer to the bed. "Hershel did his part, sure, but it’s not just about the wounds. You need to rest and relax, and that’s where I come in. Also, taking off the old bandages and putting on new ones isn't that hard, but I doubt that you can do it yourself. And Hershel just left the room, so it's up to me now to change the rest of them. I don't care if you complain about it or not."
You then began to carefully take off the bandages from his side, where the crossbow bolt had pierced itself through. Daryl winced a little, but he didn’t complain so far, his pride keeping him quiet even though you could see how uncomfortable it was for him.
"You know, for someone who’s always acting so tough, you’re a real damn mess right now," you said, trying to break the ice with a bit of humor. "How’d you end up like that anyway? What even happened out there?"
Daryl smirked a bit to himself. "Ya think I’m gonna tell ya a story now? Hell, jus' get it over with."
You shook your head and laughed quietly, focusing on cleaning the wound first. "Hey, I'm not the one that looks like the wrong side of the bed became sentient and beat the ever-loving shit out of you. So you’re going to have to deal with me being the one to help you. It’s either that or I get someone else who’s less careful."
"Less careful?" Daryl asked, and he winced again as you applied antiseptic to the wound. "Sounds to me like yer enjoyin’ this."
You stopped for a moment and looked at him with a teasing smile. "You know what? Maybe I really am enjoying this. Or maybe I just want to make sure you’re not going to cause us any more trouble, even though we all appreciate what you did. Especially Carol."
"Ya think I need ya to look after me? I can handle myself jus' fine," he grumbled and closed his eyes, not wanting to look at you anymore.
You soon finished cleaning the wound and then continued with the fresh bandages. "Oh, I’m sure you can, Dixon. But that’s not even the point. The point is, you’re not in any shape to be running around and playing redneck cowboy."
Daryl moved slightly again, trying to get more comfortable. "Ain't in need to be told twice. Thank ya very much."
You stopped wrapping the bandage around him, waiting for him to get into a more comfortable position. "Stop it with the damn sarcasm, Daryl. For someone who’s always trying to play it cool, you’re really not doing a great job of hiding how much this is bothering you. You do realize that looking weak and needing help are two different things, right? You're far from being weak, and you've done much more for this group than you can probably imagine, even if you're doubting yourself and telling yourself that it's all bullshit in the end." You told him and then continued, putting on the final bandage. "But it's not. And right now, you need to let yourself be looked after, and you need to give us the chance to care about you. Even if it's only for once."
There was a moment of silence, and for a second he looked at you only to look away again, clearly struggling with giving you an honest answer about what he thinks.
You took a deep breath. "Alright, I’m done with the bandages. How about a quick check of your other injuries?"
Daryl nodded quickly, but you could see he was starting to relax a bit. "Yeah, fine. Jus'… make it quick, will ya? Ain't got no time for this bullshit."
You smiled and began checking his other wounds. "So, what’s your actual excuse for not telling us what has happened?"
"Ain't worth tellin’. Jus' 'nother day of me bein’ stupid," he grumbled back as an answer.
Soon enough, you finished checking his other wounds and stood up, giving him a pat on the shoulder. "Well, now that I’ve made sure you’re all patched up, try to get some rest. We’re all counting on you to be back on your feet soon; don't forget that."
He snorted. "Yeah, sure. I’ll try to stay outta trouble while bein' tied to this damn bed."
You smiled and began to pack up the antiseptic and unused bandages, putting them back into the small medical kit. "That’s all I ask for. Get some sleep, Daryl. You know you need it. Something to eat will be ready soon."
As you put away the last of the bandages, you noticed how tense Daryl seemed to be. So you decided to take an extra moment to help him relax, thinking how a little extra care couldn’t hurt.
Your fingers soon massaged his side as you sat down once more, careful not to touch the wound. It was meant to ease the tense muscles around it a bit, but as your hands moved over his skin, you felt that he seemed to react differently when he gasped slightly.
"Ya really don’t have to," he started, but he stopped talking as you continued, your touch slow and feeling soothing.
You looked up, now looking into his eyes. "Why not? You’re all tense. And it’s not just about the injuries; your whole body’s been through a lot. A little extra care might help. There's nothing wrong with it."
He grunted, trying to remain tough, but his breathing grew heavier, betraying his growing discomfort, and you noticed how his body responded to your touch—a reaction he was clearly trying to hide.
His cock began to harden under the sheets. The outline of it was becoming more pronounced, and you could see the rise of the sheets with each breath he took.
You tried to ignore the current awkwardness of the situation, but it was impossible not to notice, and even more impossible not to look at it. Your fingers stopped, and you hesitated momentarily before continuing to massage his side, with Daryl’s eyes squeezed shut and another groan escaping his lips.
"Ugh... Daryl?" You asked quietly, your voice full of curiosity as you realized what was happening. "Are you… okay?"
He opened his eyes and turned his head away from you. "Yeah, jus', jus' let it be. Shit, jus' stop!"
But you couldn’t ignore the evident hardening beneath the sheets anymore. As you moved slightly in your seat to get a little bit closer to him, your hand accidentally brushed against his cock, and Daryl’s reaction was immediate—he sucked in a breath, his body tensing even more.
"Ain’t needin’ ya to… to be all handsy now, goddamn it!" Daryl's voice was trembling, his body shaking a bit, and his muscles straining, even as you didn't continue to massage him. But the sudden power you had over him was intoxicating, and you decided to take your chance and act on it.
You reached down and carefully pulled back the sheets covering his lower body. Daryl’s breathing hitched as you exposed him, and his cock was already hard, pushing against his pants. You could see it clearly now, the visible outline of it.
You smirked at him as you pulled the waistband of his pants down, just enough to pull his cock out and free it from his underwear.
As you pulled it out, Daryl's eyes widened as he watched you handle him. There was no need for words; the look on his face said it all. He felt vulnerable.
You gave him a smile, your hand now wrapped around his throbbing cock. "You look like you're about to lose it, Dixon."
He glared back at you, but there was no real anger in his eyes. "Ain’t fair, ya know…"
You leaned in close to him, your lips touching his ear. "Well, who said life was fair?" Your hand started to move, giving his cock a slow, torturous stroke that had him groaning. "But maybe… if you ask nicely…"
"God… Please," he groaned again, but it was clear he wasn’t used to begging, yet the desperation in his voice was there beyond doubt.
"Good boy," you murmured, and you could see how his eyes slowly closed as he gave in to your touch and words.
You soon picked up the pace, your hand moving faster, his hips bucking into your hand. "Shit, jus' like that," he moaned, his eyes squeezing shut even more tightly.
Fuck… How he wanted it. Your hand working his cock, making him forget about everything that has happened…
You could tell he was close already. His cock twitched in your hand, and the quiet sounds he was making were turning more desperate. "Please," he gasped again. "I… I can’t..."
"Oh? Already, huh?" You teased him, your thumb brushing over the tip of his cock, smearing the pre-cum over it that had gathered there.
You smirked, enjoying the power you had over him. "Do you like this?" You teased him further.
"Yeah, jus' like that…" He panted, his body trembling. "Please... I need ya to touch me more. Can't fuckin' take it..."
"Touch you where, Daryl? Use your words. Be a good boy and tell me exactly what you want."
"My damn dick... please, jus' touch it." You immediately switched your pace back to pump him slowly again, and each stroke of your hand made him shiver, his moans growing a little louder with every touch.
His hips bucked involuntarily, but you kept your rhythm controlled, never speeding up, not letting him get the orgasm he wanted so desperately.
"I thought you were a tough guy. But look at you—so damn needy already. Come on, Daryl," you mumbled. "You’re not done yet. Not until I say so."
He whimpered, trying to thrust into your hand, but you stopped him, keeping him on edge.
"Fuck, please…" He groaned in frustration. "Don’t stop… jus' fuckin' finish me off already!"
You laughed, your grip tightening just enough to torture him a little more. "And why would I do that? You need to learn so much more about patience."
With each stroke, you used different pressure and speed, sometimes going slower just when he thought he was about to finally cum. The feeling was almost unbearable for Daryl, and you could see it in the way his muscles tensed and relaxed again and again, his breathing only coming out in gasps.
"How does it feel, Daryl? Being held on the edge like this?" You asked, looking over at the door to listen if somebody was coming closer.
"Shit, feels so damn good…" He gasped, his voice strained. "I jus' need… I need to… Fuck!"
You smiled, leaning closer to him once more when you were sure that you'd be left alone. "Not yet, tough guy. I want to see just how much you can take."
You continued your teasing, your strokes slow and torturous. "You can take it. I know you can. You want it, don’t you? You want to make me finish you so badly, but you’re going to have to earn it," you whispered.
Daryl could only nod. "Please… Hell, I can't take much more!" 
He couldn't take it anymore. The teasing—it was all too much. He wanted to cum. And he needed you to make him cum. Hell, he loved it. Your hand pumping his cock, teasing him, making him groan with need. The way you toyed with him, bringing him so close only to pull back? Shit, he was losing it… And the way your fingers wrapped around his cock, jerking it just right… It was driving him insane.
You simply grinned, feeling excited because of the power you held over him. "But that's good. Because I want you to remember this. Remember how much you wanted it and how much I made you wait."
His eyes were still squeezed shut, his fists clenched at his sides as he fought against the urge to give in.
With that, you continued to edge him, every touch, every stroke keeping him on the brink, pushing him to the limit of his own control.
And the feeling of sliding your hand back and forth along his thick shaft, the way he groaned and moaned quietly, trying to keep himself quiet just for you—it was everything you wanted...
"Fuck, please," he moaned again, his voice now breaking slightly.
His cock was pulsing in your hand and still leaking pre-cum, and you knew this was the moment he might not be able to hold back any longer. And just when he was about to finally stumble over the edge, you stopped pumping him completely, pulling your hand away from his throbbing cock.
Daryl’s eyes flew open in shock, anger, and need. "What the fuck?" He growled, his voice hoarse. "Why’d ya stop?"
You leaned in, whispering into his ear. "Because I wanted to see you beg for it, Daryl. And you’re not quite there yet."
He glared at you in need, his cheeks red, and sweat started to form on his body. "Ya can’t jus' leave me like this! Please!"
"Oh, but I can," you answered with a smirk. "And I will. Unless you really beg for it."
Daryl closed his mouth, and you could see the muscles in his jaw twitching around as he gritted his teeth, his pride and ego fighting with his desperate need. Finally, he let out a frustrated groan, his head falling back against the pillow.
"Please, please, let me cum," he whispered and finally started to beg and whimper a little more. "Please! I can't take it anymore. Please…"
God... How much he needed you. Desperately. Your hands, your touch, everything about the way you teased and pumped him, the way you handled him… It was like you knew exactly what he wanted and what he needed, and you were giving it to him for free, if only he would beg for it...
You smiled, satisfied with his response. "That’s better. Now, let’s see how much more you can take."
You went back to your teasing, your hand moving slowly over his cock, feeling him twitch and pulse again with every touch. His moans grew a little louder, even more desperate, as you brought him to the edge again and again, only to stop just before he could finally cum.
By the time you finally decided to give him what he needed, Daryl was nothing more than a trembling and pleading mess, his hips bucking toward you again and again, his eyes now looking desperatly at you.
"Fuck, you’re such a good boy, Daryl," you whispered quietly. "Look at you, trying to keep quiet for me, trying to hold back so hard. Taking it like you should… Don't stop looking at me."
You sped up, your movements rough and fast, giving him no time to adjust to the now quick pace. His body was shaking, and you could feel he was more than ready to snap.
"Yeah, you want to cum so bad, don’t you?" You teased. "Go on, Daryl. Cum for me. Show me how much you need it. How much you want it."
With a choked groan, Daryl's body tensed. His orgasm hit him hard, his cock pulsing in your grip as he came all over your hand. You kept pumping him through it, milking every last drop out of him.
"Oh, you really are a good boy, aren't you?" You mumbled. "Let it all out. You did so well for me."
He collapsed back against the bed, completely spent and exhausted, his chest heaving up and down as he tried to catch his breath.
You reached for a towel next to the small medical kit, wiping your hand and cleaning up carefully, making sure not to leave any evidence of what had just happened behind, before you looked down at Daryl, a wide smile on your face.
"Fuck," he panted. "That was… fuck..."
"Told you I’d take care of you," you answered him, giving him a wink.
He opened his eyes, looking at you quite exhausted. "Yeah, ya did…"
He didn’t protest as you cleaned him up; he just watched and stared at you with those intense blue eyes, still catching his breath with his mouth slightly open.
"There," you said, as you were finishing everything up. "All cleaned up again."
Daryl didn’t say anything for now, just giving you a small and a little ashamed nod as you leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his sweaty face.
"Get some rest now, tough guy," you whispered, pulling back and standing up. "You’re gonna need it. Remember: Be a good boy for me."
"Yeah… I... I..." He grunted in response, unable to even finish his thoughts after hearing your words, which were still making his head spin.
You simply smirked, heading towards the door. "Anytime, Daryl. Anytime."
As you walked out of the room, you couldn’t help but feel satisfied as well. Daryl Dixon might be tough as hell, but in that moment, he was completely and totally yours.
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wonderjanga · 2 months ago
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Here's a stupid dumb crack idea you can't really die in Fawcett City like you can get hurt cartooningly but you can't die like getting hit in the head when it acts of like a mild inconvenience and gives you a headache and a scar but you won't die from it
If you leave faucet for a long time then you can die but everyone there is Immortal and kind of unaging unless you want to age
Captain marvel forgot to tell the Justice League this while fighting a villain who proceeded the flash when acts in the head
People in Fawcett don’t die. That was something the Justice League hadn’t known when Marvel had called them for help to fight some villain. Everything was going fine and dandy at first. They were winning, obviously, but then something just had to happen. A piece of the rubble somehow, you couldn’t ask any of them, fell on the fastest man alive who wasn’t able to dodge for whatever reason?Everyone, besides Marvel and the villain, who were still fighting by the way, went quiet as a mouse.
Supes: *looks horrified* “Oh my Rao! Flash!?” *flies over and lifts the rubble up*
Flash: *wobbly stands up, springing up and down like an accordion* (accordion squash)
Marvel and the villain didn’t even look their way, meanwhile, everyone is trying to get Flash to stop being a human accordion.
Supes: “Keep him still!”
GL: “I’m trying!” *using his ring to try and hold Wally still*
Batman: “Try harder.” *is trying to administer a sedative*
After that whole fiasco…
Marvel: “Hey, guys, I apprehended the villain. Where were you- why is Flash passed out on the floor.”
After they explained, seeing all their traumatized and scarred expressions, Marvel finally explained that in Fawcett, people couldn’t die. Not unless they wanted to anyways. When most Fawcitizens got hurt, they bounced back very similarly to Tom and Jerry. A wonderful demonstration of this conveniently happened when someone nearby just happened to run off a roof, hovered in the air for a solid fifteen seconds before looking down and then proceeding to fall. They then dug themselves out of the human shaped hole they left, dusted themselves off and walked off like nothing happened.
Safe to say, none of them wanted to come back to Fawcett after this. Though unfortunately, there are still times they have to visit.
Goon: *evil laughs and runs up to Batman and shoves a couple sticks of TNT into his hands*
Batman: *can’t safely throw it anywhere because of the civilians around so it blows up*
Goon: *pointing and laughing*
Batman: *standing there, somehow still alive and covered and soot. He blinks rapidly before grabbing his shark repellent and emptying the entire can on the goon’s face, eyes, and mouth*
As for why Bruce was so pressed to the point where he emptied an entire canister of shark repellent on the man? He could feel the soot everywhere. It somehow got under his mask so he feels it on every inch of skin near the upper part of his torso.
Don’t worry though, this chicanery happens to everyone else too. Like, every single Lantern that has entered Fawcett has taken a comically large hammer to head and has gotten a large bump as a result.
Marvel: *walking by when he does a double take seeing John* “Oh my Gods, what happened-”
GL(John Stewart): “I DON’T want to talk about it.”
Then there was the time Hawkgirl was chasing after a villain one time and they happened to get into Fawcett. She actually slipped on a conveniently placed banana peel. Then, the villain she was chasing stepped on a rake and got a good smack to the face.
Marvel: “Hawkgirl! What’re you doing here?” *flies down, happy to see his friend*
Hawkgirl: *gestures to the villain with a long red line down their face from the rake’s pole* “I was chasing them.”
Marvel: “Cool, cool, cool, uh… what happened to his face?”
Hawkgirl: “He stepped on a rake.”
*silence*
Hawkgirl: “Why do your people just have bananas and rakes laying around?”
Marvel: “What…?”
In conclusion, nobody besides the Fawcett heroes like being in Fawcett.
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bambisworlds · 24 days ago
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reunited
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Rick thought he knew what true, unconditional romantic love felt like with Lori. She was his first love, the mother of his child. But that was nothing close to what he felt with you. You had the ability to turn him into the most deranged man alive, someone unrecognizable and downright psychotic when it came to protecting you. You could also bring him to his knees and turn him into a puddle at your feet. He could be the softest, gentleness man to exist if you wanted him to be. You were his, and he was yours. Simple as that. When he woke up in the hospital to find the world had ended there were only two things on his mind; Carl and you. He needed to find you. (3,587 word count)
content warnings, mdni 18+
f!reader, established relationship, some angst but not really, age gap (reader's her in mid 20s), rick is down bad for reader, rick is so in love with reader it's crazy, munch!rick, oral (f. receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), use of "good girl", consent check, let me know if i forgot anything x
my masterlist
~
Rick was exhausted and he felt terrible. Not just physically but emotionally. The guilt of leaving Merle on the roof and the horrors he’d endured gnawed at him but he tried not to let it show. The only thing that took his mind off of it were thoughts of you. God he missed you. And he was so afraid of what could’ve happened to you, or what could be currently happening to you. The wondering of if you were alive, if you were hurt… it was unbearable. So much so he felt like he had some sort of object plunged into his heart that was slowly rotting and decaying while simultaneously spreading throughout his body, leaking poison  and black goo into his bloodstream. So, he hardly felt any relief when he arrived back at Glenn’s camp. 
~
Y/n quickly walked up to Glenn as he got out of the sports car, pulling him into a hug as he arrived back at camp. The two had become pals when she joined the group, Glenn was a genuinely nice guy, “Thank God you’re alive.” she chuckles, releasing him from her grasp with a soft pat on his back, “That’s quite the car you got there.”
“How did y’all get out of there anyway?” Shane asks, walking over to the two of them with his rifle that he never seems to let go of. Y/n’s smile faded from his presence, she couldn’t figure out what it was but Shane gave her a bad vibe.
“New guy. He got us out.” Glenn answers with a smile, relieved himself that he made it out. 
“New guy?” Shane asks, skeptical, and Y/n sends him a look. Shane was always an asshole to newcomers, even if they helped save someone in the group.
“Yeah, crazy vato just got into town. The guy’s a cop like you.” Glenn tells Shane and Y/n’s ears perk up, her eyes widening with a glimmer of hope.
“A cop?” she asks quickly, “From where? What’s his name?” she quizzes frantically, looking in the direction of the van that had pulled up behind Glenn. She could feel the pounding of her heart in her chest as the door to the van opened and Rick stepped out. Her ears rang as if she was in some altered plane of consciousness, her lips parting in disbelief. “Oh my God,” Y/n and Rick both mutter in sync as they stare at each other, both frozen in shock.
Before Y/n could even grasp what was happening or let it register in her brain that he was alive, Rick had broken out into a sprint towards her. He crashed so hard into her the two nearly fell to the ground, his arms wrapping around her tightly with a slight tremor in his limbs. Finally the world had gone quiet for Rick. The unbearable rotting in his heart had ceased, a stem of flowers and sunlight growing in its place. Rick released a choked sob, nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck as he held onto her like a lifeline. His eyes nearly rolled back as he breathed in her familiar scent, waves of relief and downright euphoria crashing over him.
Unable to resist, he pulled his head back and kissed her with a type of passion that couldn’t be replicated, as if he was trying to bind their souls together through the gesture. Rick moaned into the kiss unabashedly, one arm wrapping around her waist to keep her pressed against him while the other cradled the back of her head in an almost protective manner.
“You’re alive,” he murmured in between kisses, barely giving Y/n the chance to respond before connecting their lips again. The kiss was sloppy and desperate, a physical representation of longing and love they both were feeling. The two barely registered the other people around them, too lost in each other, “C’mere,” he grunted out, moving his hands down to grab onto the underside of her thighs. She instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, choking out a laugh of disbelief and unadulterated joy as he spun around once with her in his arms. She smiled bigger than she had in weeks, her hands resting on either side of his face.
“You’re alive,” she echoes with a broad smile.
“I’m alive,” he repeats, his smile matching hers. The glimmer in his eyes that had been missing since he woke up in the hospital had returned. Rick nearly dropped her as a smaller figure came crashing into him; Carl. Rick’s eyes widened in shock and he carefully, but quickly set Y/n down, pulling Carl into his arms next as another round of sobs escaped him. Y/n smiled down at the two of them, sobbing and laughing at the same time. She didn’t reach for them, wanting them to have a moment of their own. Rick lifted his head slightly to catch sight of Lori, another wave of relief washing over him knowing Carl had been with his mother this whole time. Rick smiled again, his face growing sore from how large his smile was as he held Carl. Rick rose to his feet, wrapping an arm around Y/n and Carl both. His heart was full. Nothing else mattered, nothing at all.
~
That night Rick naturally stayed with Y/n in her tent, unable to be away from her for even a moment.
Rick could hardly believe this was real. Even after he recited what had happened to him around the bonfire with Y/n and Carl in his arms, it still felt too good to be true. Like a dream.
“I still can’t believe it,” Rick says with a small smile as he sits down on the raggedy mattress inside of Y/n’s tent. Y/n smiled softly, finishing dressing into comfier clothes for the night. 
“Me neither,” she sighs, walking over to him to straddle his thighs. Rick’s hands instinctively moved to rest on her hips, like his hands had done countless times before. His eyes catch on a glimmer of a gold chain peeking out from beneath her t-shirt, glowing from the low lamp light. His smile grew slightly as he gently plucked the chain out from beneath her shirt. It was the golden, heart locket he had given her on their first anniversary. It held a picture of the two of them that was taken at her 22nd birthday party. She was smiling in the picture with Rick’s arm wrapped around her waist as he kissed her on the cheek. They both looked so happy.
“You still have it,” Rick mutters with a nostalgic smile, tracing his thumb over the locket. 
“I know it’s morbid, but I was scared if I never saw you again I’d forget what you looked like,” she practically whispered, her voice cracking slightly, “This is the only picture I had left of you, I wasn’t about to lose it.” she smiles sadly. 
“You wanna know somethin’ stupid?” he asks with a grin, lifting his bottom off the mattress slightly to grab something out of his back pocket while keeping a firm hold on Y/n with his free arm so she wouldn’t fall off his lap. Y/n watches him with furrowed eyebrows, unsure of where he was going with this. “I went back to the house after I woke up and the first thing I grabbed was my wallet,” he chuckles, holding his leather wallet in his hands, “It’s kinda pointless to have it now, except for one thing in it,” Rick opens his wallet to reveal a picture in it of him, Carl, and Y/n, “I wasn’t about to lose this either.”
“Rick…” Y/n mutters with a smile as she traces her finger over the picture. It was taken at one of Carl’s holiday parties at his school. It meant so much to her when Carl had asked her to go, saying he wanted his whole family there, not just his parents, “I guess we had the same idea then.”
“I guess so,” Rick grins, setting the wallet down on the crate beside the mattress that served as a makeshift nightstand. His hand returned to rest on her hips, slipping beneath the band t-shirt she wore to feel her bare skin, “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to be able to touch you again?” Rick asks huskily.
“I have some idea,” Y/n mutters, resting her hands on his shoulders. 
“I dreamt of you every night. Every goddamn night. Like you were some ghost haunting me, or an angel,” Rick’s fingers thumbs rub soothing circles on her sides, “The dream would last long enough for me to think it was real, then when I woke up…” he sighs, looking down at Y/n’s lap. 
“I’m sorry… it must’ve been terrifying when you woke up in the hospital.” Y/n’s heart clenches and she rests her hands on the sides of his face, encouraging him to look back up at her.
“When I went back to the house and nobody was there… I’d never felt so devastated in my life,” he explains and Y/n nods sympathetically. 
“I’m sorry,” she says again, resting her forehead against his, “I’m so sorry,” she whispers. Rick sighs, closing his eyes as the lingering ache of that awful day faded, a sense of contentment overpowering it. 
“None of that matters anymore. All that matters is you’re alive, you’re safe,” Rick pulls back slightly, tilting her chin up towards his face with his thumb, “I love you more than anythin’,” Rick says firmly, “You and Carl… you’re my whole world. I don’t care if the rest of it is in shambles as long as the two of you are happy and alive.”
Y/n smiles softly, closing  the distance between them to nuzzle her nose against his before kissing him. Rick sighs contently, immediately melting into her familiar embrace as his hand falls back to her hip. His hands gripped her hips, squeezing the soft flesh there with a slight moan. Y/n’s hands snaked from his shoulders up his hair, tugging slightly. Rick smirked against her lips, lifting her up off his lap and turning them so he could lay her on the mattress.
“Didn’t realize how much I would miss feeling you yankin’ on my hair like that,” he grins down at her, bracing his hands on either side of her head. Just as Y/n was about to respond with a smart remark he lowered his head to press open mouthed kisses on her throat. Rick groaned, sucking and nipping at her skin. He lowered himself down to brace himself on his elbows instead of his hands, wanting to be as close to her as possible. Y/n’s eyes fluttered shut, her lips parting with soft breaths. 
“I missed you so much,” she breathes, her hand resting gently on the back of his neck.
“Mmm, I missed you too,” he mumbled against her skin. He supported his weight on one elbow, his free hand caressing and groping any part of her he could reach, “Need to get reacquainted with this body of yours,” Rick smirks. 
“I think I’ll allow it,” Y/n says with a slight smile. She slips her hands beneath his t-shirt, smoothing her hands over his sides and abdomen. Rick’s smirk grows as he captures her lips again. 
“Don’t know how in the world I’m gonna keep quiet,” Rick smiled against her lips, “Might have to build us a cabin in the middle of nowhere so I can be as loud as I want.”
“Miss me that much?” she asks with a grin of her own, their noses bumping against each other.
“You got no idea,” he mutters, yanking her shirt off in one swift movement. Y/n gasped softly followed by a slight chuckle of surprise from the brisk action, but her chuckle faded as Rick bent down to capture one of her nipples between his lips. Y/n sighed contently, combing her fingers through his hair as he lavished attention on her breasts. Rick was moaning and groaning as if he was tasting the most delectable desert imaginable. 
“People are gonna hear you,” Y/n giggles quietly.
“Don’t care,” Rick mumbles in response, hastily kissing down her stomach as he yanks off her sleep shorts. Once they were discarded he nuzzled his nose against the crotch of her panties, his eyes rolling back with a low moan. If it hadn’t been so long since she’d last seen him, Y/n might’ve been embarrassed by his display, but she missed him too damn much to feel bashful.
Rick placed an open mouthed kiss on her dampening panties, his tongue poking at the fabric before peeling them down, his face so close to her cunt his nose bumped against her panties as he pulled it away. The minute he had them shimmed down to her ankles he was pushing her thighs apart, his eyes darkening at the sight of her glistening folds that had been practically engraved into his memory since the first time he saw them. He nuzzled his nose against her clit, his eyes fluttering shut again, “God damn,” he mutters reverently before opening his eyes once more, looking up at Y/n’s face. 
The look in his eyes sent a shiver down Y/n’s spine, it almost made her want to get up and run from how hungry and dark his gaze was, but she’d rather get bit by a walker than go anywhere else right now. She needed him just as much as he needed her. 
Rick suctioned her clit between his lips, holding eye contact with Y/n, but once her familiar flavor touched his tongue his eyes rolled back and all coherent thought was lost. He devoured her as if he hadn’t eaten in months, which he might as well hadn’t considering how long it’s been since he’s last tasted her. He hastily yanked her further down the mattress so his face was smushed against her pussy, haphazardly shoving her legs over his shoulders as he ate her out like some starving animal. 
“Oh shit,” Y/n gasped, her head falling back against the meager pillows as her back arched off the mattress. 
“Mhm,” Rick hummed against her cunt, barely even bothering to glance up at her as he focused on her cunt. He lapped over every inch of her sex as if trying to memorize it, periodically sucking on her clit and pumping his tongue into her hole. His hands gripped her hips tightly, keeping her firmly in place for his ministrations.  
“Rick I’m gonna cum,” she mutters frantically, nearing her peak at record speed after weeks of aching for him. 
“Do it,” Rick mumbles against her folds, his voice vibrating against her sensitive flesh. Y/n whispered and mumbled profanities, covering her mouth with her hand in hopes the people in the tents around theirs wouldn’t overhear, or worse a walker. She released a choked moan, her back arching off the bed as she came and Rick lapped at her cunt eagerly, moaning in delight. He didn’t seem to have a problem with anyone or anything overhearing him. 
Y/n shivered and jerked as he continued to lap at her clit with no sign of stopping, she eventually pushed him back by his forehead as it became too much. Rick looked up at her with hungry eyes, his lips pink and puffy and chin slick with her arousal. He began to yank her back to his mouth when she tugged at his t-shirt, pulling him up to her face. He begrudgingly let her tug him where she wanted him, but not before he had the chance to strip off his own clothes in a flash. 
“Need you so bad,” Rick mumbled against her lips, their teeth clashing from the desperation of the kiss. Y/n made a needy sound of agreement, enjoying the oddly erotic taste of herself on his tongue and lips. Rick quickly gripped onto her thighs and wrapped them around his waist, rubbing his cock against her folds to coat himself in her juices, “Sure you want this?” Rick double checks, his restraint holding on by a string, but a lot could change in 6 weeks. He didn’t know all of what she’s been through. He needed to make sure she truly did want this, want him, no matter how much he loved her and craved her.
“Yes, please, please,” she begged eagerly, bucking her hips up against his cock. Rick felt as if he heard angels singing briefly at her desperate reply. He slowly slid his cock into her, a choked moan escaping him. He nearly collapsed on top of her like some teenager losing his virginity, he had missed her so damn bad he nearly came before he was all the way in. 
“Christ,” Rick grunts as he bottoms out, a shudder running through his body, “Fuckin’ hell,” he muttered to himself, his chest heaving. He tried to remember all the things he used to think about when he was younger when he tried not to cum fast, like brick walls or sweaty balls or something, but being with her again felt so damn good. 
“You okay?” Y/n asks him breathily, her chest heaving as well.
“Yeah, yeah,” Rick pants, beginning to move, “Fuck,” he moans loudly as he begins to roll his hips, his head falling back.
“Rick!” Y/n scolds, reaching up to cover his mouth with her hand. He grins behind her hand, mumbling a ‘sorry’ against her palm. 
He let his head fall forward again, nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck, “You just feel so damn good, baby,” he mumbles against her neck. Y/n lets out a hushed moan in agreement, tangling her fingers in his hair as she keeps her legs firmly locked around his waist. Rick pants, his moans muffled against her skin as he picks up the pace of his thrusts. His hands gripped the sheets on either side of her head with the effort of holding himself back. Y/n mewled and whimpered quietly in his ear, her eyes fluttering shut in enjoyment as she clung to him. 
Rick found the strength to lift his head up to look down at her, her gorgeous features furrowed from pleasure only adding to his arousal, “Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he mutters, beginning to pound into her with renewed vigor. Y/n’s jaw dropped and her eyes flew open from the change of pace, a shaky moan slipping past her lips. 
“F-Fuck, Rick,” she gasps, both their breathing growing heavier.
“That’s the plan,” he chuckles, snaking his hands underneath her to lift her ass off the bed and maneuvering her ankles onto his shoulders in search of that special spot inside her. He knew he’d found it when her back arched off the bed followed quickly by a high pitched cry. Rick smirks devilishly, “That’s the spot.”
Y/n frantically reached for Rick’s discarded shirt beside them on the bed, holding it over her mouth in an attempt to stifle her moans. Rick immediately shakes his head in disapproval, yanking the shirt from her grasp, “No hiding that pretty face from me.” he grunts, “If you gotta moan then moan, I wanna see my girl's face when she cums.”
Jesus he’s so hot. Y/n thinks, “Gonna cum,” she whimpers, her face contorting.
“Mhm, cum on my cock,” Rick encourages, his thrusts precise to keep hitting that special spot inside her with each snap of his hips.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” Y/n repeats on a loop, her eyes rolling back and body convulsing as she cums.
“Yesss that’s it, that’s my good girl,” Rick praises triumphantly, not relenting his movements. Y/n sobs in pleasure, her hands flailing on the bed for something to hold onto. Rick quickly positions her legs back on either side of his hips, grabbing onto her hands to intertwine their fingers on either side of her head, “You’ve got one more in you, I can feel it,” he pants, “Be a good girl and give it to me.” Y/n shakes her head slightly with a shaky whimper, but she could already feel another orgasm building within her, “Yes you can, you’re gonna cum again. Three’s nothin’, I’ve given you eleven in one night before.” Y/n’s body begins to melt into the mattress and her grip on his hands loosen, her jaw going slack as she cums again, “There we go,” Rick mutters almost to himself as he feels her walls begin to clench and quiver around his cock again, her face the image of pure bliss.
Rick’s thrusts began to falter, struggling to keep himself up as he neared his peak. With a jerk of his hips and low groan he cums as well, burying himself as deep as he could as he grinds against her, “Fuuuck,” he moans, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm. He moans in satisfaction, his body turning to jelly as he collapses atop her, holding himself up weakly on his forearms. He rolled his hips slightly, prolonging both of their pleasure as he captured her lips in a slow, languid kiss.
He pulls back enough to where their noses bumped against one another's, his voice firm with no room for argument, “I’m never losing you again.”
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if you have any requests including the people on my masterlist please comment them below any of my posts or in my submissions!! (check here: about my blog  to see what things i'm not comfortable with in regards to requests <3)
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genderkoolaid · 5 months ago
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some misc thoughts on child abuse and adultism/ageism:
in House M.D 2x16, the patient is a disabled teenage girl, melinda. she's had multiple life-threatening allergic reactions, the last of which led to a car accident which resulted in her needing a heart transplant. her mother is shown to be extremely protective of her (not allowing her to attend public school, not letting her go outside, restricting who can visit her) and this is a major issue in her and her daughter's relationship.
about halfway through the episode, melinda goes missing from her room. one member of houses' team, foreman, realizes she is trying to get outside and went to the roof. he finds her sitting in the stairwell, distressed. melinda reveals that her mother was always extremely controlling over her- the point of not allowing her to do seemingly any after-school activities- long before she got sick, and that her daughter's heart transplant "gave her what she always wanted." foreman responds by saying that, because of her current illness, it's "an insane time to criticize your mom for being overprotective."
melinda expresses that her mother's abusive behavior has now been retroactively justified by her disability; she is seen as "insane" for being distressed by what is clearly a life of restricted autonomy. the scene ends with a line that has stuck with me since seeing it: melinda looks up at the stairwell and says softly, "i didn't even try to get outside. i was too scared."
the actual plot of the episode isn't the point. the point is that we tend to view "children abused by foreign adults" and "children abused by their parents" as two separate categories with opposing needs. children being taken advantage of by strangers should have been monitored and restricted. like the mother in the episode, the parent assumes that being more protective = the child being more safe. the correct way to handle child abuse is parental vigilance. sure, maybe this behavior encourages some abusive parents (who are probably the minority anyways, because I would never abuse my child!), but that's just the price we pay for making sure the other children are safe?
what i think this episode shows- accidentally, seeing how they never actually take melinda's abuse seriously- is how you can be fucked over twice. a child who is being abused by someone online can also be abused by their parent- are probably even more likely to experience that because of an abusive home. and then, if that outside abuse is realized by the parent, it retroactively justifies their behavior. it proves not just to them but the adult world that controlling behavior is rational and helpful- clearly, the abuse was caused because they didn't control enough.
and in both the episode and this hypothetical, the parent's reaction- while it may include genuine feelings of love- also comes across as being more distressed over the violation of one's possession than being distressed on another person's behalf. the child is an extension of you, and thus any desires it has that conflicts against your own are like an autoimmune disease. something to be shut down as fast as possible. vulnerable children, abused children, the "sympathy" given to them is a double-edged sword because as soon as you aren't the quiet, docile creature who agrees with whatever the adults say, you are crazy and ungrateful and "don't you realize we just want what's best? look at what happened to you!"
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phantomdreamss · 11 months ago
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Dick is good at hugs but I just know that Jason is all soft muscle until he flexes, which means he gives the best hugs. One of the Crime Alley kids finds out about this when they hug him after he saves them from being mugged and word gets around to the other kids about it. The first few times he’s asked for a hug when he checks on some of the kids shelters he’s a little surprised but obliges anyway, now when he’s out on patrol and one of the street kids sees him and asks he doesn’t hesitate. He knows there could be a million reasons why they’re asking, and if it helps them, then who is he to say no?
One night it happens while he was on patrol with Dick, they had started taking a break together semi-regularly, Jason still wasn’t at the manor often because he still felt awkward around the family, and Dick is just happy to spend as much time with his brother as he can get. So imagine Dick’s surprise, when they’re waiting for their food at a food truck, one of the kids comes up and asks Jason for a hug and he gives one without a second thought. Dick is just standing there like “????”, thinking there’s no way he saw what he just saw. That is until the kid leaves after and Jason immediately turns to him and threatens that if he tells anyone what he just saw he’ll never talk to him or the family again. Dick, of course, says he won’t tell anyone. And he doesn’t. He’s just glad his brother has people there for him.
For a few weeks Jason is ready for someone to ask or start teasing him about giving out hugs while on patrol when they address him, but no one even comes close to mentioning it. The next time he’s on break with Dick he asks why he hasn’t told anyone when he very easily could have.
“You asked me not too Littlewing.” he said, as if that answer meant anything at all. Dick must have seen his confusion because he spoke again. “You care about them Jason, it’s clear they care about you too. Of course I wish you’d open up to the family a little more, but I’m not going to tell them something you clearly didn’t even want me seeing. Knowing our family they’d push for an answer as to why or something and they’d only end up pushing you away instead of letting you open up on your own time.” he explained. Jason stared at him, that was the last answer he was expecting to hear.
After a few moments of finishing their food in silence they got up from the edge of the roof they were sitting on and threw their trash away. Jason watched as Dick started to the edge of the roof before finishing patrol, stopping at the edge to face Jason to say something. Jason wasn’t listening, one second he was watching his brother leave the next he was hugging him. His face flushed with embarrassment but he couldn’t bring himself to let go. “Thank you..” he murmured, vaguely aware of Dick’s arms hovering around him almost hesitantly for a moment before squeezing him back. They stayed like that for a few moments before they had to let go to finish their patrols. If Dick heads back to the cave more chipper than he usually is after patrol then that’s nobody’s business but his own that he just got a hug from his little brother, something they hadn’t done since even before he had died.
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atrwriting · 1 year ago
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games and other fun — rafe cameron x reader
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HAPPY NYE FUCKERS HERES A TOXIC MAN THAT SHOULD DEFINITELY BE LEFT IN 2024 BUT NOT ON THIS BLOG HAHA
this is the hottest rafe scene and if you disagree i think ur silly
as always, warnings: smut, daddy kink, choking, slapping, dom!rafe, alcohol consumption, p in v sex, unprotected sex (please for the love of god wrap it), talk of drugs
anyways… here’s games and other fun:
the summer you got hot was coincidentally the same summer you moved to the outerbanks.
the climate was hotter than back hot, but… so were the men.
you and your friends had moved for the new adventure, and thankfully you had found a job in your field pretty quickly. while your friends looked for jobs in their field, they acquired jobs at some of the restaurants, bars, and catering gigs in town.
that was how your best friend met topper.
when she first told you the story, the blush on her cheeks had never been brighter. him and his buddies had been out that night — at the bar she worked at. almost immediately, topper started flirting with her. she claims she played it cool, but from her giggling you can tell that she was excited to talk to him as he was to talk to her. you were so, so happy for her.
…until she mentioned how he had a friend.
“absolutely not,” you stated, shaking your head,
“why not?!” she demanded. “the friend said you were cute!”
you raised an eyebrow at her. “you showed him my picture?”
she nodded. “he was cute! i swear!”
you sighed. “what’s his name?”
“kelce.” a mischievous smile began to play at her lips. “him and topper want to meet us at a party their other friend is throwing this weekend.”
“did you meet that friend?” you asked. “do you think he’d be cool with us coming?”
she dismissed you with a playful wave of her hand. “rafe’s a kook. they wouldn’t be kooks if they didn’t show off their wealth to the whole island.”
you laughed. “okay, fine — i’ll go, but who the fuck names their kid rafe?”
only the richest man on the entire fucking island did, apparently.
you were excited to meet kelce, but you couldn’t help but be curious as to who exactly rafe cameron was. your friend didn’t meet him, neither of you looked him up, but then again — there was a double date to prepare for.
your best friend had gotten ready together after the work day. bikins under levi cutoff shorts, crop tops, and sandals were sported, but the main event was how somehow you both mastered the beachy blowout and natural makeup look in this humidity. once you were done, you both caught an uber and headed straight for the cameron residence.
it was fucking massive.
there was no other word.
and, honestly… it was like something out of project x.
strobe lights, music blasting, and loud laughter and screams. your best friend was more of the partier, so she didn’t look too phased — but you? you were fucking bright-eyed. you hadn’t experienced anything like this before, and even if the date didn’t work out… at least there would be other things to occupy you.
once the uber had parked in front, you spotted a man waiting on the front stoop with his phone in his hands. your friend typed a quick text, hit sent, and through the window you watch the man on the front stoop smile.
place your bets now, you thought. that’s definitely topper.
and that he was.
when you both had met him on the front stoop, he engulfed your friend in a cute hug. afterwards, he extended a smile and his hand to you, and you shook his hand appreciatively.
a man that knew boundaries and manners… fuck yes, bestie.
he led you both inside and you had to stop your jaw from dropping. the party looked crazy from the outside, but nothing could compare to the absolute mayhem that was occurring inside. pong, lines being cut on a few tables, people jumping into the pool from the roof… you name it.
“this is awesome,” you spoke absentmindedly to no one in particular.
“i know,” topped laughed. “kelce’s around here somewhere... drinks?”
he led you both to the kitchen. if you were being honest, you knew that topper and your friend would hit it off pretty quickly and you didn’t want to cock-block them. you were hoping that kelce would find his way to you so you both could have your own fun, and leave your friends to their own devices.
…that was until topper started trying to call kelce over. topper, a bit drunk at this point, didn’t really get the memo from his friend that was turned around, basically back into the corner… that kelce did not want to be disturbed. in fact, when kelce finally got the message, he ripped away from whatever had caught his attention, and turned towards topper’s voice angrily. when he turned away… there was a petite woman pushed into the corner. she seemed very pissed off that kelce had broken their kiss.
who could blame her? he was hot.
no one could blame you for being a little upset, but you wouldn’t tell anyone that.
topper was at a loss for words. you almost felt bad.
letting the liquor provide comic relief, you spoke, “she’s hot. can’t blame him.”
topper laughed and then stuttered, trying to find the words to fight the embarrassment of the situation. even drunk, his manners were impeccable. his and your friend’s eyes revealed a mixture of guilty and sympathy, and you couldn’t deal with how uncomfortable it made you feel. your first instinct was to pretend it didn’t bother you… and if other people ignored your pain, you could too. it gnawed at you in the back of your throat — a rock lodged in your esophagus. your voice was tight, your cheeks were hot, and frustrated and embarrassed tears were pickling at your eyes.
“guys, don’t worry about it,” you laughed, trying to brush it off. “top, where’s the bathroom?”
maybe you couldn’t save yourself from embarrassment, but you could save them from secondhand embarrassment. once he directed you, you gave them both a smile and set off.
if you were being honest… it did hurt that had happened. it was fucking embarrassing. nothing horrible, but combined with having drank in a while, and you were already tipsy? you were feeling emotional, and that wasn’t a good luck. you needed a few minutes in the bathroom to cool off.
you texted your friend that you were going to find the pool after and that she shouldn’t wait up for you — you wanted her to have fun with topper.
you were barely in the bathroom for a few minutes when you heard banging on the door.
“hurry up!” a gruff voice from the other side of the door called.
you shut the water off and brushed away the loose tear. your eyes were red, and your face was a bit puffy, but you figured you’d be fine. you’d probably never see the guy on the other side of the door anyway.
as you opened the door, he went to bang on it again. with his weight forward, he accidentally stumbled into the bathroom while you were still in it.
“sorry, dude, uh —“ he rasped, standing before you and staring awkwardly down at you.
“you’re good…” you spoke, before trying to brush past him.
he caught your upper arm.
“woah, dude,” you laughed hesitantly, trying to step away from him. “i’m leaving, don’t worry.”
“sorry —“ he let go of your arm, still peering down at you. “you’re crying.”
“what? no,” you faked a laugh. “heat got to me s’all. needed some air.”
he eyed you. “never seen you before. not from around here?”
“no,” you shook your head. “my friend and i were invited.”
“by who?” he asked, raising a brow.
you took a step back, not particularly enjoying the third degree in a small space. “this guy she likes… topper.”
his eyes widened, almost in realization. “yeah, yeah… he told me about that. said there was another girl… for kelce.”
you laughed, but with a slight scoff in your voice. “he’s a bit… preoccupied at the moment. with someone else. i was going to go play pong after i… saw.”
“knew he had a pretty girl coming, and did that? guy’s a dick.”
you laughed, and shook your head — brushing off his comment. “‘m sure he’s fine. i don’t know who his friends are — not really in the mood to talk shit about someone i don’t know.”
“sweetheart, he’s one of my best friends — guy’s a dick.”
a smile played at your lips as you raised an eyebrow at the man. “and who are you?”
“the owner of this house,” he replied. “i’m rafe.”
you smiled, and introduced yourself as well. “i’ll, um — leave you to it, then. see you around.”
you turned to leave, when you heard him say your name. while peering down at you, he spoke, “nah… let’s mess with him.”
you shouldn’t have been excited… but you couldn’t deny that you were.
rafe led you back into the kitchen and you smiled at your friend. topper turned to look at you, and his eyes immediately perked up when he saw rafe walking directly behind you.
you greeted them both, but barely before rafe had picked you up by the hips and placed you on the counter next to your friend. you bit back a squeal at the motion, but rafe had leaned against your side as he cracked a beer.
topper turned to you. “i don’t know how you found him, or how you got him out of the woodwork… but the man barely comes to his own parties. nice job.”
you laughed, and let topper and your friend continue their fun.
“so…” you began, turning to rafe. “if you don’t come to your own parties, how do you have fun at things like this?”
a smirk played at the corner of his lips. “they’ve been kind of boring for me, lately, i don’t know… i’m usually in the corner somewhere, smoking.”
sarcastically, with a grin, you asked, “are you telling me i can’t convince you to be my pong partner?”
he laughed, shaking his head. “you could convince me to do a shot with you.”
mischief danced in your eyes. rafe was quick to notice, and the look in his eyes matched yours.
he immediately went for glasses and liquor.
“and you got him to lay off the snow?” asked topper, mouth wide. he looked back to your best friend, grinning. “you’re both coming to the next one.”
rafe poured four shots and handed them off to topper and your best friend. they smiled and laughed to themselves before linking arms, and taking their shots.
“i like to take mine a different way,” rafe rasped, eyes peering down at your lips. “especially since my boy kelce has been staring us down since i put you on this counter.”
a smirk was beginning to form on your lips. in a sultry voice, you asked, “are you suggesting we give your friend a show, rafe?”
you stared into his piercing eyes before he spoke. his lips were parted, and he almost looked hungry. the heat was getting to the both of you making a shiny sheen of sweat glow because of the strobe lights. his eyes were focused on you, and really on you. it threw you off how rafe could have so many things going on around him, barely knowing you — and you were the apple of his eye. the next words rolled off his tongue like sugar, “that’s exactly what i’m suggesting, sweetheart.”
your teeth sank into your bottom lip as a blush rose across your cheeks. with a boldness you were a stranger to, you lifted your shirt above your head to reveal your string black bikini that barely hid your chest.
you figured rafe was lying about kelce — but that was until you saw him and the girl separate, and were now closer to where you and rafe stood. kelce had thrown a few glances your way every now and then, but now? now he was blatantly ignoring the girl next to him as he stared at your rack and rafe.
you threw back your shot, bending your chest towards rafe. you looked back to him with a smile on your face, and plucked his shot from his hands. holding your beasts together and placing the glass in your cleavage, you threw him a wink. rafe’s gaze darkened — and you knew you were in for it.
rafe rested a hand on your waist before he dipped his head lower. his lips wrapped around the circumference of the glass, and threw his head back with ease. your eyes drifted downwards to his broad shoulders, the thickness of his neck, and the muscles in his arms….
oh… you were in for it, alright.
before you knew it, rafe placed his glass down and connected his lips with yours. a whine of surprise rose and died in your throat after rafe placed both of his large hands on the warm skin of your waist. you held rafe’s strong jaw in both of your hands as you kissed him back, letting your tongue dance at his bottom lip.
“you’ve been too sweet to me tonight,” you whispered against his lips. “when are you going to let me be sweet to you?”
“fuck…” he rasped, stealing another kiss. “as soon as i know kelce knows what he missed out on.”
you laughed. “he’s been staring, rafe, come on…”
rafe had wrapped his arms under your ass and hoisted you against his chest. your hair cascaded down around you both, shielding the rest of the party goers for how your lips couldn’t leave his.
“if my dick wasn’t so hard right now — i’d shove it in his face more,” rafe spat. “teach that prick a lesson about how he should treat a beautiful woman.”
you giggled against his lips. “another time — please, rafe. i need you.”
a deep growl went off in his chest, and he let you swallow it whole. rafe kissed you once more before he swung you over his shoulder, one hand firmly planted on your ass to keep you steady, and began walking towards the upstairs.
laughing, you raised your heard to wave goodbye to topper and your best friend — who were laughing and happy for you as they waved back.
with each step towards an empty room, you giggled at rafe as he was cursing at people who got in his way. he kicked a couple of people out of the room before he let you fall onto your back on the bed. your giggles died within you as he began to crawl over you.
“what if i wanted to ride you, baby?” you whispered, running a thumb along his cheek as you bit your lip.
he kissed the inside of your hand as his eyes never left yours. “no, sweetheart — never had such a sexy woman below me. i’m taking my fuckin’ time.”
“taking your time?” you asked. “you’re the host of the party.”
“fuck ‘em,” he spat, capturing your lips once more.
rafe’s movements were much more dominant than in the kitchen. the privacy of the four walls and closed door allowed him to cage your body in and wedge the front of his hips against yours. you hooked your ankles behind his lower back, pulling him into you with a grinding motion. little whimpers left your lips as the friction from your jeans hit your clit in the perfect motion, making you shiver in rafe’s arms.
“want those pants off, daddy,” you rasped. “don’t make me wait.”
“call me that again and i’ll give you anything you want, sweetheart,” he spoke, his hands immediately darting for his belt buckle.
you tore off your and rafe’s pants and rafe made quick work of taking that skimpy bikini off your breasts.
“i almost told you no when you asked to go upstairs,” he spoke, his hands slowly sliding up your stomach. “i wanted to make kelce so fucking jealous…” the palms of rafe’s hands rested on the swell of your breasts, thumbs drawing circles on your nipples. “wanted him to realize that the chick next to him had nothin’ on you… that i was the one to have you… wanted to see the realization in his eyes….” his thumbs and pointer fingers began rolling your sensitive buds in between each other, drawing sharp breaths from between your lips. “but i think you were right, sweetheart. don’t want anyone to see what’s mine.”
“yours?” you let the pads of your fingertips slide down the length of his chest and stomach. you kept your eyes locked on his, provoking him. “no man’s ever been able to make me cum before. what makes you think you’re different?”
he raised an eyebrow, darkness covering his irises. he was silent for a moment, studying you. you kept your baiting look on your face, but inside you grew worried.
rafe’s hand held your jaw in his, thumb prodding at your plump bottom lip. “gonna be a brat for me, that it?”
you shouldn’t have — but you did anyway. “and what’re you gonna do about it?”
an evil smile crept up on rafe’s perfect face. he let go of your chin and got off of you. you were curious as to what his goal was, but that was until he got himself between your legs. you laid back against the bed, and when you looked up — you realized there was a mirror on the ceiling.
you gasped at the sight. your hair was as crazy as your skin was flush. your eyes were as wild as rafe’s, and he stared back at you with darkness and lust all wrapped into one.
“you see that, sweetheart?” he asked, staring back at you. “sight that almost made me take you right there in the kitchen. you gonna be good for daddy, and let me show you how i’m better than all of those little boys?”
your teeth sank into your bottom lip as your cheeks blushed. “yes, daddy, please.”
“so polite,” he rasps, pressing a wet kiss to your cheek. a whine brews in your throat at the affection. “open your legs. let me see that pretty pussy.”
on command, you parted your legs for him. rafe slid one large hand down from your knee to the beginning of your tanned thigh. you watch as his hand cups your mound, and you shiver at the feeling.
“oh… just so soft for me…”
his voice was like caramel as it rolled of his tongue. smooth and sweet. he looked at your pussy like he fucking adored it, there was no other way to put it. when his head finally dipped and his tongue nudged itself at your clit, you leaned your head back against the pillows.
“you like to hide, huh?” he spoke, eyes wide at you as his tongue dripped in between your folds. “not tonight, darlin’. you’re watching me.”
you lifted your head up and watched as his tongue slid into your entrance, and rafe began to nudge your clit with his nose. you gasped at the feeling — completely unaware that was even a thing someone could do, let alone be good at.
“fuck…” you quietly gasped, folding your lips over each other.
rafe replaced his tongue with two fingers — sliding them in and out and curling at the top. a low hum began to build as you fought to keep your eyes on him. the hum was deep and warm, filling your rib cage. you didn’t want to scream, afraid of being too loud or too much for rafe… but keeping your eyes open was enough of a fight. when his perfect, plump lips made contact with your clit… you couldn’t help it. you let out a loud sigh as your vision began to glaze over.
“i wanna do everything i can to this pussy,” rafe bit, sucking at your clit. “smack it, lick it, fuck it, anything i want… just so warm and sweet.”
“…fuck…” while only one word, your voice had never broken so much. rafe’s words were so sensual and mind numbing it was hard not to lose yourself in the moment, free to completely enjoy the sight and feeling of one of the hottest men you had ever seen put you on a pedestal and fucking worship you. his tongue, velvet, was working its way around your clit like it wanted your thighs to clench and wrap around his head. “i’m so close, rafe…”
“that’s it, baby, yeah.” the slurping sounds from below you were pornographic. your hips were jutting up and down to meet his lips and fingers as he plunged inside of you. your hands had found the sides of his head, sad there wasn’t any hair to hold back. “you wanted to be a brat before, now what? blame all of those little boys? now look at you — too fucked out to care. dirty fuckin’ girl.”
he was right. your boldness had left you with your sanity. the low hum had now spread throughout your body until it was everywhere. a soft, quiet vibration could be felt in every one of your limbs until you sure you were shaking. a cocky bastard like rafe — you should’ve wanted to deny him your orgasm, the metaphorical trophy. however, every fiber in your being was telling you he deserved it. his tongue, his lips, his nose, his fingers, his eyes — they wanted you to finish all over his face, and they deserved it. every last drop. every bit of it. every. fucking. bit.
“you scared, baby? don’t get shy on me now.” he had now raised his face where now only his hand was on your pussy. with a concerned, focused look on his face, he dipped two fingers into your entrance as his rough palm was working your clit. “you want to be a good girl for me, don’t you?”
you shut your eyes for a little longer than you should’ve, but opened them back up for tears to collect in the corners of your eyes. the approach of an orgasm was like a current in water, sucking you under. there was no fight and there was no giving in. it was heavy, fast, and hard — drowning where you head had no chance of staying above water. your body was being pulled every which way as your brain fought to remain present, in control. through your glazed over eyes, you could see rafe smirk.
“oh — i don’t think my girl’s listening to me, is she?” his taunting voice was sending you up a wall. the rat bastard — making you feel so good and then demanding that you respond as if your mind wasn’t mush. he moved himself so he was now hovering over your body, balanced on one arm. “i know you can hear me. come on, baby — you wanna cry? do it. fuckin’ cry for me, darlin’.”
you weren’t sure why you needed permission — but something in your insecurity snapped that allowed you to let out one singular strangled moan in your sand paper throat. it was whiny, and soft, and most of all — fucking pathetic. you could see in rafe’s eyes he loved it.
“been so good for me, letting me play with you,” he whispered against your lips as he continued with his hand. “seeing this little body give in — wanna see how far i can go. can’t wait to split you on my cock.”
“let me cum on your cock, rafe, please…” you spoke through your tears. “need it so badly. please let me…”
“can’t cum without a cock inside of you?” he asked, immediately sitting up and undoing his pants. “finally allowed yourself to be a whore and ask for what you want… lettin’ me use that pussy…”
you were nodding furiously, tugging at him to come lay on top of you once more. he batted your hands away, confusing you.
“nah, lay back,” he spoke. “…because i know you want me to use that pussy, don’t you?”
“yes, yes,” you cried, voice breaking. “just want you to use me — fuck, please, rafe…”
there was that smirk again — before he dove in.
rafe had pushed your legs against your chest and held you there as his cock slid easily inside you. since you were denied a very close orgasm — your pussy had never been wetter. it was like your slick was causing him to slide further and further inside so he could be buried in there. with every thrust, your pussy tightened around him — and rafe let you know.
you stared up at the mirror on the ceiling as you watched rafe’s muscles flex. his shoulders and back — holding you down, making you take every thrust. watching his glutes tighten and release with every thrust sent shivers up and down your spine. however, nothing, not one single thing, could compare to the way rafe’s arms flexed around your head and body — holding you in place.
“fucking love your cock, daddy,” you whimpered in his ear. “so, so deep. feels so good it hurts.”
he groaned against your ear, straining to fight against the pleasure. his thrusts began to pick up strength and speed, refusing to give in before you do.
“can tell it hurts, baby — pussy sucking me in like she’s never cum before,” he gasped, his own voice threatening to break. “just needed someone that knew how to work you, huh? give you what you needed? fuck you like the slut you are?”
you dug your face into the crook of his neck, feeling lost in his words and embrace. “slut for your cock, daddy — fuck, just like that. just like that — right there!”
one of his hands reached up to grab a fistful of your hair, and yanked you back. with parted lips and gritted teeth, rafe forced himself against your throat and began to suck on the soft skin. the strain of the position took away what last bit of control you had. you were completely at rafe’s mercy — and you didn’t mind. the head of his cock was pounding against that spot inside of you. your brain and the lower half of your body were working in tandem — acting like they had never had an orgasm before, but that wasn’t the case. no — they had just never had an orgasm like this before. the kind where you are completely out of control, unable to get it back, and under the hands of a man who took such good care of you. maybe you should’ve been scared because you barely knew him, but you weren’t. he wanted your orgasm as much as you did — and you let your naivety get the best of you.
“never wanted to breed a pussy so fuckin’ badly,” he spat against the skin of your throat. “she wants my cum so badly, doesn’t she? sucking me in — what else?”
incoherent. that’s all you were. rafe’s hips smacking against yours, cock hitting just right — there was nothing that allowed you to stay present and sensible in that situation. you were all his, under his control.
“be mean,” you cried, squeezing your eyes shut. “be mean to me — and i’ll cum. fucking christ — please.”
“pussy like this, dirty as you are —“ he spoke, trying to fight his own orgasm. “no one should touch you but me. i own this pussy. me. no one can fuck you like me, that right?”
it was like music to your ears. your pussy was being split open and fucked raw — so dirty, so naughty, so wrong. yet, you were both grasping onto each other like there’s was nothing else in the world. rafe was working his cock into your pussy like your orgasm was his, and his alone. he —
he got tired of waiting for a response. he lightly smacked your cheek, and wrapped a hand around your throat.
you couldn’t be surprised — because your pussy only got wetter.
“you’re gonna fucking cum for me,” he spat against your eyes. “that’s mine. all mine.”
you caught a glance of what you looked like in the mirror above — a mess. a fucking mess. your face was covered in sweat, spit, and tears. your hair was everywhere, just like there was a flush all over your body. you saw the way rafe’s veins in his neck and forehead tightened and protruded as he spat dirty words against the side of your face.
“give it to me,” he spat through gritted teeth.
your eyes couldn’t leave the mirror. it shoved you farther and farther into your trance that you couldn’t look away. couldn’t move. couldn’t think about anything else.
“it’s yours, it’s yours…” you cried, throwing your head back.
your hands immediately came up to dig your nails into his back. your back, arched, pushed your tits into rafe’s face. his face, in awe, couldn’t help but suck a nipple into his mouth as he watched your body fucking shake. there was no more low vibration — your body, every limb, had fully succumbed to shaking and crying.
“pussy so tight,” he gasped. “fuck, fuck, fuck…”
through the mirror, you watch both of your orgasms hit you at the exact same time. with one snap of rafe’s hips, the muscles of his ass tightened where his pelvis locked with yours. his back and shoulder muscles went taut, rippling with the bout of adrenaline running through his veins. with rafe’s body holding yours down, he stopped your body from spasming. your skin was prickly to the touch as your blood was pumping, pumping, pumping. the walls of your pussy squeezed around his cock as strangled gasps pushed past your lips, and were swallowed by rafe.
against your lips, he whispered, “never letting you go now, princess.”
you giggled softly, shivering. “is that so?”
“yeah,” he mumbled, kissing you. “you’re fucked.”
- - -
happy nye here’s some smut HAHA love yall
-L xoxox
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bunny-jpeg · 3 months ago
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kink-o-ween - day nine
fernando alonso - semi-public sex
cw: smut/pwp, semi-public sex, age gap (20s/40s), assistant!reader, chauvinistic!fernando, age gap (20s/40s)
kink-o-ween: formula one edition - call of duty edition
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"fernando? fernando?" lance's voice sounded a million miles away. fernando alonso was not paying attention. not while you were a shivering mess now under the protection of the roof of the garage.
you held onto your shoulders and shivered. you were standing there in a soaked white blouse (he could see your nipples), a pencil skirt that somehow hugged more of your curves, and high heels.
you looked delicious. a meal served up to fernando
fernando got up, ignoring his teammate as he headed towards you. the driver beamed as he took off his jacket and put it over your shoulders, "well, if it isn't my lovely assistant. what were you doing out there?"
you were pulled to his side, and let him rub your bicep, "i was out with the rest of the team and it started to pour. i should've brought a rain coat."
"ah well, next time. right? you'll remember." he chuckled as he brought you further into the garage. you needed to dry off, the team will be fine without their favourite assistant for some time.
while you thought you'd be with the rest of the staff before the race. instead you ended up in fernando's driver's room. but before he got you into the room, he kissed you up against the door of the place. he held onto your wet shoulders.
"you look good like this. all wet for me, everyone can see everything. i don't like that very much. you should be for my eyes only. right? you're not that dumb to think that i would let you whore yourself out like that." he got you up onto the couch in the driver's room. your clothes were restrictive so fernando did you a favour and got you out of them.
too bad he didn't leave them out to dry, rather in a wet heap. after he was done with you, you could wear some of his clothes. you'd look nicer anyway. he loved the sight of you down to your underwear, out of those restrictive clothes.
"they shouldn't be putting you in such tight things. you'd draw too much attention to yourself. i think something softer for someone like you. a woman." he chuckled as he invaded your space on the couch.
the walls of the driver's rooms were thin and the door to fernando's barely locked. it was risky, especially given your connections. you didn't want a scandal. but all caution was thrown to the wind when he got his cock out of his jeans.
there was a noticeable age gap between you and him. but you didn't care, you were an adult. and could do what you pleased. but still, the sight of a younger naked woman on top of a well known formula was driver would cause a scandal. but fernando didn't care, not when your heavy breasts were in his face, tempting him.
"you make me want to do bad things to you." he said, "things that would make a whore blush." he groped at your blush, "and you'd let me do it all, you'd let me pick you apart." his voice was hot in your ear and it made you shudder.
you were in his lap, your breasts so close to his face. his large hands groped your skin. you knew rationally it was wrong. that you should've high-tailed it out of there. but, you couldn't help yourself. not when his cock stood upright. you took a hold of his cock and sank yourself onto it before you started to ride him.
"oh perfect." he said softly, he couldn't be too loud. not while you were both on the clock. you also had to be quick as well, as you were also on the clock.
you whimpered a little but placed a hand over your mouth as you rode him. your other hand was on his shoulder for support as you rubbed yourself up against him. fernando loved the sight of you, you were so close to him. all naked on his cock, you bounced on him as you worked his cock so pretty.
"you always take care of me." he said as he kissed your neck, he could feel the sweat on your neck. his cock twitched inside of you with an insatiable need to fuck you harder.
he wanted to feel you inside and out, he wanted to drag his hands across your body. he wanted to feel the jump in your pulse as he dragged his fingers across you. he wanted to feel your nipples grow hard and your pulse jump. he wanted it all, he was greedy that way. why would he deny himself such a beautiful woman? you pranced around, all smiles, around the paddock. fernando knew that others stared at you, but you always ended up in his bed. with him. alone.
he wasn't sharing, he didn't care what gen-z did in their sexual activities. if he was going to fuck you, then it was you two together, rutting like rabbits. the idea of someone else's lips on you made him scowl without a second thought.
but you kissed away the look from his thinking as you continued to ride him. this position was perfect for a quick fuck, fernando loved you on top. it was the only time he'd allow you to be on top. since he was the man, he was always a little more ahead of you. and you were the innocent little angel that took him perfectly.
he gripped onto your hips tighter and started to control the pace more. you clung onto him with both hands as you bit your bottom lip to keep quiet. you could feel the rattle of your heartbeat in your chest. the rapid thump excited you as you moved faster.
"you're so pretty. better at this than being my assistant." he kissed at your breasts and felt good inside of you. you felt like a dream as he licked his lips and looked at you.
you replied, "i very much like my job, fernando." you clung onto him tightly. you moaned a little louder and it made you feel hot all over. the risk grew the longer you took to cum.
"i know, i know. it's perfect, even for a silly girl like you. you don't know how many men wish to eat you alive. but only i get to devour you." he groaned as he worked your hips faster. his large hands on your hips as he pushed you up and down onto his cock.
the kisses continued once more, you whimpered into it as you moved as quickly as you could. your sweat was combined with the leftover rainwater on your skin. when you pulled away, you had a blissed out expression on your face.
you looked beautiful, so, so beautiful on top of him. as your body moved against him. fernando gazed at your body and clutched onto you. he continued to move you onto his cock. it didn't take long before orgasm washed over you. you clutched onto him tightly.
he loved the feeling of you climaxing around him. he took you by the face and pulled you into a tight kiss before he continued to rut against you. it was alright, you did enough for him (for now). he let you rest against him as he fucked up into you.
you gasped and whined softly against his shoulder as you worked his hips. he was surprised that you didn't make some snide comment about how he could still fuck as good as he did at his age.
"so pretty." he said, "and so small. i could easily break you in half. you look prettiest like this. against me, letting me fuck you as i please. you're such a dirty girl." you whimpered softly in response.
it didn't take long for him to finish himself. he came inside of you, and left a red mark on your collarbone. it wouldn't be shown with any shirt you wore, but he'd know it was there.
he slowed his thrusts to a stop, but kept his cock inside of you for a moment longer to kiss you on lips. the kiss was deep, but there wasn't enough time for round two.
you pulled away from the kiss and pushed hair out of your eyes, "will you let me borrow some clothes."
fernando could never say no to you. he looked at your pile of wet clothes and said, "well, i don't have any extra bras." he chuckled, "so i guess you'll have to go without." he licked his lips.
he knew the sight of you bra-less in his clothes was going to drive him wild. at least you wouldn't complain when he tore them off of you later. <3
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octopiys · 4 months ago
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Lost and Found
I. roll call and rainy nights
Next
Maybe Simon doesn't have any kids. Not yet at least. Maybe he doesn't know anyone we'll enough, or maybe he's not sure if he wants them in the first place.
But I'll tell you what.
Every time he goes on leave, without fail, he has an army of critters showing up to his house in the country. He never turns anything out to the streets, or to the cold night. The bottom of his pantry is stock full of dog and cat food. He's got three bird feeders in his back yard. There's four refillable water bowls by his garage.
The raccoons show up first without fail. They're named One and Deux, and they just recently had a baby named Tres. Hes pretty sure they live on his roof. He checked his cameras one night, after a long mission, and found them holding up Tres to the camera.
He didn't cry about that, what are you talking about?
Then the dogs show up. They're all mutts of varying sizes. One looks like some sort of lab, named Dog. Another is about the size of a pomeranian, but looks like a shaggy chihuahua. That's Barrow. He found her in his garden shed. She's got a mean bite, but a sweet face. The third is a big dog, almost the size of a Dane, but... not. He's not very smart. He's named barkmulch. Get it, cus- cus he barks- the fourth has gone unnamed. It's a furry little white thing, and it yaps at him a lot, nipping at his ankles anytime he enters the room. Behave, and it'll get a name.
There are a few cats that show up too. None of them have names except for one: Scraggle.
Scraggle is the ugliest fucking thing you can imagine. Scraggle is that shade of grey that white cats get when they're dirty, except you can't wash it off. The poor cat is missing patches of fur, and it seems permanent. It only has one eye. It's nose is flat, and gives it's face the illusion of a squished tomato. There's a scar going from it's whiskers, across it's nose and up to it's missing eye. Simon doesn't actually know what gender this cat is. It is only Scraggle.
Scraggle is also... very stupid, as far as cats go. It gets squished between the couch cushions, and yowls when Simon accidentally sits on him. How could he have seen him anyways? Scraggle screams when his food bowl is empty. Scraggle screams when everyone else's food bowls are empty. Scraggle screams when it manages to find it's way on top of the kitchen cabinets, and needs Simon's help to get down. Scraggle is a full time job when he's off duty.
Scraggle is his favorite.
He finds you in the rain.
Not nearly as run down as the rest of his animals, but just as lost.
Covered in scratches, blood, and muck, he finds you on the edge of his property, being screamed at by Scraggle, because it doesn't do much else.
Your clothes are torn, and you look a bit more haggard than you should. Wet, and cold, and hungry. Like you had missed a turn off the trails, or you were running away from them. From something.
You look up at him with wide eyes, but decide to trust him, to follow him like a lost creature, because he could not be worse than what you escaped from.
He makes soup. He gives you soup.
He's not the best conversationalist. He's not used to things he finds actually talking back to him in a language he can understand.
You tell him your name. He calls you Honey. You'll earn your name. Behave, you'll get it.
Scraggle is on thin ice with you. Attention stealer. Food giver. You get the cat down from places it shouldn't be. But Simon pays more attention to you than he does Scraggle. You fool. Scraggle is all. Scraggle is life.
You don't leave, much like the other things he feeds. You make yourself useful, because you're afraid of being turned out. If you're useful, then nothing will happen. And you go to bed every night warm with a full belly.
You're just another lost thing he's taken in. You don't leave when he disappears. You know he'll come back. He always does.
And he watches the cameras, while he's on a mission. He watches you diligently fill the bowls, the bird feeders, the waters, the bath. You trot out to the fish pond, and throw handfuls of feed out in the early hours of the night. Then you make your way back through the tall grass, and into the house.
Scraggle screams. You feed it too, and then pick it up. And carry it around like it's a little baby.
Hm. Maybe....
You were a sweet like honey, a pretty little thing. You weren't lost anymore. He'd found you, you're his now.
He'll take care of you.
Scraggle agrees. Scraggle likes you too.
masterlist
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wileys-russo · 7 months ago
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Alexia Putellas, “just let me in and accept I’m not going anywhere”, reader’s kitchen
a.putellas II cross the line
you grunted as you worked the dough, sleeves rolled up to your elbows and sweatshirt dotted with flour as you punched, rolled and kneaded it across the board.
with a sigh you grabbed your rolling pin, flattening it before repeating the actions all over again, oven chiming to alert you that it had finally pre heated.
repeating the routine twice over you picked it up and dropped it into a shallow pan, sprinkling the foccacia with oil and massaging it in, gently prodding in holes and finishing it off with some rosemary and seasalt.
you sighed with relief as you carefully closed the oven door, rolling your shoulders and neck which were heavy with tension, making a mental note to con your girlfriend into giving you a massage later not that it often took much to convince her to get her hands on you.
a hot shower helped to melt away a little of the tension, and a thorough washing of your hair helped you to feel like a human being again and not a bag of flour.
you left your skin care for before bed and got changed into a pair of your girlfriends national team shorts and a shirt so large the two of you could have fit into it.
you were happy with how the bread was progressing, your first timer going off as you set multiple other alarms, knowing this next block of time was the most crucial.
baking had always been an escape for you, something taught to you by your grandma and passed down, your sundays spent at her house learning all her tips and tricks while your mum worked her second job to keep a roof over your head.
you'd first met alexia when she was in london for a nike shoot, the photographer a close friend you were temping for while on break from university.
there was a miscommunication from her team which lead to a somewhat heated conversation you could see she felt uncomfortable about, hanging awkwardly to the side while her agent lead the charge.
you'd stepped in and asked if she'd liked a coffee, assuring you were doing a run anyway and that it was no bother to grab her one on the way. she'd accepted but bargained she had to come with you, a little reserved at first but eventually the two of you got to talking.
and as everyone says, the rest was history.
you heard alexia's keys jimmy with the lock, front door popping open as her footsteps sounded in the hall, a small grunt as she wrestled off her trainers and a gentle thump of her gym bag hitting the floor.
"hola mi amor." you greeted with a warm smile, meeting her halfway in a tight hug, laughing as she exhaled tiredly into your neck making you squirm and poke at her sides.
"are you baking?" she mumbled into your shoulder, hunched over as you hummed and slipped a hand down the collar of her top, scratching gently at the base of her neck.
"stop that!" you laughed as once more she exhaled, pushing her away and ignoring her whine of annoyance as you did so. "i have not seen you all day." your girlfriend complained with a slight pout, hands tugging at the back of your shirt.
"you've been gone for three hours!" you rolled your eyes playfully, spinning away from her grabby hands and back into the kitchen. "exactly! tal tortura." alexia huffed, lips still turned downward into an annoyed pout.
"pobre bebé." you mocked as her eyes narrowed but once again you dodged her reaching for you. "i'm baking." you warned with a coy smile, your girlfriend throwing her head back with a dramatic groan as if she'd just been shot.
"the bread does not need your attention princesa, i do." alexia tried to follow after you but grunted as your hand shot out stopping her in her tracks. "nice try putellas, you know the rules." you warned, booping her nose making her scowl.
"this line-" you trailed your finger from the counter to the stove. "-is not to be crossed." you wagged your finger at her. "esta es una regla estúpida!" the footballer argued, still hovering right on the line.
"it isn't a stupid rule when you cook and i am not allowed past it, is it?" you challenged, hands on hips and raised eyebrows. early on in your relationship you and alexia established you both adored the use of the kitchen, only there was just one small problem.
you both hated sharing that space with someone else, even one another.
so the line rule was implemented to save future arguments, and most of the time it worked a charm. however your girlfriend was a passionate woman and fiercely stubborn, and when she wanted something there wasn't much that could stand successfully in her way.
"ale please i spent so long working on this bread i really need it to be perfect!" you sighed as her hand shot out and grabbed your top pulling you over the line, nose tucking into your neck as gentle kisses were fanned across the skin.
"such a perfectionist." your girlfriend teased quietly, silencing your quip back as she pressed her lips properly against yours, the timer going off in the background.
"no no not yet, little more cariño por favor." alexia purred, strong toned arms wrapping around your hips as she held your body captive, back pressed to her front and lips peppering kisses across your neck.
"ale!" you sighed, eyes fluttering closed for a moment as she kissed a little less sweetly, teeth grazing your shoulder. "mm?" she hummed, large hands squeezing your hips as your eyes opened and you spotted the oven, brought back down to earth.
"no!" you groaned, pushing against her and catching her off guard as she stumbled and you darted back into the kitchen. you ignored her complaining about a lack of attention as you sprayed the top of your bread with a spray bottle of oil.
"vale you fussed over your bread, my turn." alexia stomped her foot not unlike a child throwing a tantrum making you smile in amusement. "later, the bread is almost done amor be patient." you winked, bending down to peer through the glass of your oven.
"so i cannot cross the line, sí?" alexia clarified as you hummed, not thinking much of it. though as you turned around, that all changed. "alexia!" you laughed in disbelief seeing her pulling herself up onto the counter.
you watched on as she spun her body and shuffled forward slightly, dropping to the ground with a wolfish grin. "did not cross the line." she took a deep bow as you rolled your eyes. "you are so-" you started to lecture as her grin grew.
"no no." her finger pushed against your lips silencing you as you raised an eyebrow. "just let me in and accept i'm not going anywhere princesa." your girlfriend smiled cockily, drawing your body closer into hers.
"that is because you are so stubb-" you started, words swallowed by the rosy pink lips which pressed against yours, breath hitching as her hands slid around your hips and cheekily squeezed at your ass, alexia using this to slip her tongue into your mouth.
you resisted the urge to moan as her hands pinched and squeezed, paying all of your body just as much attention as your mouth and sending your head into a spin.
but then, you smelled it and pushed away, spinning around and dropping to the oven.
"putellas if this bread is burnt you're sleeping outside for a week!"
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sukirichi · 7 months ago
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[ DUSK ‘TILL DAWN : 008 ]
“we who bear the burden of the crown do not need to love. you only need to stay here, with me, in power, in greed, in lust – in victory.”
c/w. modern royal au. infidelity. angst. gaslighting. toxic characters. toxic relationships. mentions of neglect and abuse. hurt and comfort. unedited.
notes. thank you to everyone who waited patiently, i hope you guys enjoy this chapter <3 this will be the beginning of kiyoomi arc!
wc. 11k
series masterlist | next
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[ EIGHT ] all they keep asking me is if I’m gonna be your bride – the only kind of girl they see is a one-night or a wife
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The Kingdom of Inarizaki was at a loss whether to celebrate the early return of the latest married couple from their honeymoon. The couple seemed to be doing great – according to the tabloids, anyway. When they arrived, the Princes and their wives waved to the people, all eager for a glimpse of the infamous couple who had married for love. For two years, society had their eyes on you – the shy, reserved noblewoman who caught the eye and heart of their one and only Crown Prince Suna Rintaro. And oh, what a wedding it was, broadcasted all over the world and celebrated like a holiday.
What the world didn’t know was that it was an entirely different story behind the Palace walls.
You may share a bedroom, but never the bed. You’d been acquainted with the couch for the next few nights, only seeing your husband once in the mornings before he left to do his duties, and every now and then when the Queen wanted to have dinner. Not that you were complaining – the space was most appreciated. Without Suna lingering, there’d be less reminders of how much of a fool he took you. A naïve, young woman who really deluded herself into believing a Prince could want her. Although…
Suna didn’t not want you, either.
In the few spaces in between, he would look for you. He would make small talk and ask if you’ve eaten. If you liked breakfast, which was a silly question, since it was always tea and waffles. If you enjoyed yourself while he was away, this, again, was a silly question. You spent the mind–numbing hours blaming yourself for being in this predicament. That, perhaps, if you had just been brave to walk away that night you found out the truth, then you wouldn’t be out here wondering if the maids’ whispers were true – that Suna spent most of his nights at Belleview Manor, because quote unquote, “he was unwelcome in his own quarters.”
As if somehow it was your fault he did not feel comfortable to sleep under the same roof with you.
Sighing, you flipped your novel closed. No one had given you official duties yet, other than the blatantly obvious one of giving the Crown Prince an heir. ‘They will have such sleepless nights!’, the Queen’s goons crooned. ‘So young and virile, they are, we’ll have a new Crown Prince in no time!’ Oh, if only it were that easy. If there were to be a Prince, Iris would most likely be the mother, considering he saw her more often than you did. And how funny of a thought that was – you wanted distance from him, yet something died inside you little by little the colder your room got.
“Since we have returned, my schedule will be full.”
You glanced up from where you sat. Suna had sauntered back into the room, his tie loosened; hair messed up like he ran his fingers through it several times. Already, a servant stood beside him to comb his hair back neatly. You couldn’t help but stare. How long had it been since you combed his hair for him? You knew he hated it when they gelled it back. He preferred it messy and unkempt, saying his bedroom hair felt most natural. The bedroom hair he’s shown only to you in the quiet breaks of the night when he was in your bed.
The bedroom hair Iris had seen, as well.
Just the thought of it forces a smile on your face. Standing up, you brushed off the imaginary dust off your skirt. Less than a week in the Palace, and you were already so miserable. You could at least try to look less bothered by his unrequited affections.
“Do what you must.”
Once his hair had been brushed to perfection, Suna gestured for his servant to step away. The man politely bowed down before exiting the room. “I mean to say,” he continued, stepping closer now that there was no one else around. Your breath hitched the closer he got, but you dared not move, not even when his warm, familiar hand cups the curve of your cheek. “The meetings I must attend and people to deal with will take up most of my time.”
You knew what he was trying to say – that he wouldn’t be around, and you had to entertain yourself in his absence. Gently, you take a step back from his touch, watching as an unreadable expression crosses his face.
“And as I have said, do what you must. I have my own duties to fulfill as well.”
“You do not sound bothered by this.”
“Why should I be?” you shrugged, “If I am to be stuck with you for the rest of my life, surely I can enjoy what little time left I have for myself.”
Suna’s lips thinned. “You could act a little less eager to get rid of me.”
“On the contrary, I have no intention of leaving.”
“So I will see you tonight?”
“If we run into each other at the palace, yes, yes you will.”
If he seemed discontent with your half–hearted response, he did not show it. Must be the practiced regality and composure befitting for a Crown Prince like him – all lazy, yet wary, watching eyes. He, too, must know the true meaning behind your words. There was no need to pretend.
You both knew Suna would run into Belleview Manor as soon as the night ends, and his duties for the day had been tended to. Meanwhile, his wife would stay up all night in her couch.
Not quite waiting for him, but not quite imagining if he slept better at her side, either.
It was an unspoken deal between you two already. So he leaves without another word, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding when the door finally slams shut.
Tears prick at your eyes for the umpteenth time. You were tired of this. Tired of not knowing where you truly were in his life – were you his wife, his friend? After you’d heard of his passion and dedication to Iris, you weren’t so evil to stop him from seeing her. He loved her first. And you of all people should know the pain of not having the one person you wanted most. To him, she was his unattainable treasure. She was already making him smile before you even came to his life. She was already offering companionship and the comfort he desperately needed in this tiresome world of politics and power. She was his solace in all this chaos.
And you… you were just his wife. And without a baby in your belly, you might as well be just another useless figure in the Palace.
You refused to be so.
You may be worthless to him as his wife, for you truly couldn’t have his heart, but you refused to be a worthless person. Deep down, you knew you weren’t. It was just the title of ‘Princess’ that made you feel incapable and short. Did that mean you weren’t meant to be Princess, then? Should you go back to your manor, learning how to handle the household and managing the family business like your parents taught?
If you were not for Suna, did that mean you were not for the Crown, as well?
You bit your lip in contemplation. There was only one person who could provide you a solution to this.
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“It is not every day I am summoned by a Princess,” a smooth, deep voice filtered through the garden. Smiling, you stood up to greet the Third Prince. A curtsy, a bow, and soon you two were sipping tea – the momentary peace a guise of what was to come. Kita must have sensed it, too, his gaze flitting over your pinched face with understanding and patience. “To what do I owe this pleasure? Surely we are not here to discuss the pleasantries of your honeymoon.”
You grimaced. “Definitely not. There were no pleasantries to begin with.”
His face fell.
“I’m sorry to hear that. Are you… My apologies. I’m not sure how to proceed with this.”
Nodding, you set your tea town. You had a feeling he truly meant his apology, which felt good, seeing as most of the Princes had too much pride to know the word ‘sorry.’ But you hd always known that Prince Kita was unlike the other Princes – he had more honor, and a stronger sense of morality compared to his brothers. Maybe it was due to his being raised by his mother, who was a lawyer, and therefore was not so exposed to the greed and competition experienced by the other Princes.
Whatever it was, he was just different. And you could rely on him to be truthful, too.
“Have you always known about them?” you muttered, refusing to look at the Prince’s face in fear of being met with pity. That was the last thing you wanted – to be seen as the poor, unwanted wife. “Iris and Rintaro?”
“I have.”
“I see.”
Kita sighed. “Please don’t misunderstand, Princess. I never meant to keep it from you. None of us did – except for those truly involved. It was just… I grew up with them, too. Keiji and I were only a year ahead of Rintaro and Iris. When I heard the Crown Prince had become acquainted with a foreign royal scholar, we didn’t think too much of it. Her sudden marriage with Kiyoomi surprised us all, and none of us would’ve thought that her friendship with Rintaro would turn into something more.”
“You don’t need to explain all of this to me, Your Highness.”
“Perhaps, but…” reaching over the table, the Prince squeezed your knuckle. You chuckled, not having realized you’d balled up your hands into a fist. It turned out you couldn’t fool anyone, not even yourself, to act like you didn’t care how much it all hurt. “I do not want you to think I am not on your side.”
“You do not need to be on my side. He is your brother.”
“Blood means little to me when my own kind is cruel to others,” he retorted, looking offended you would suggest otherwise. “I have always been against it, Princess. I told him from the beginning that to covet one’s brother’s wife is one thing, but to involve someone else, all for his selfish reason of ascending a throne that was always rightfully his just seemed heartless.”
Heartless. Gods. To know that your husband was capable of being cruel was one thing, but to hear it coming from his own brother’s lips was another.
“But Rintaro is Rintaro. Of course he is stubborn.”
“Indeed, he is,” Prince Kita sighed in defeat, leaning back against his seat as he stroked his chin in thought. “Princess, while I cannot guarantee I can take all of your woes away, I want you to know you can trust me. If there is anything you need, let me know and I will do it for you. It’s the least I can do to make your stay here in the Palace tolerable.”
“Do you mean that?”
“I do, and I am a man of my word.”
“Then I suppose there’s no point beating around the bush,” you gritted your teeth, forcing the words to come out.
It had always been a lingering thought at the back of your mind – to leave Rintaro – but there was this prideful, equally stubborn voice at the back of your head telling you it was too early to give up. That you needed to fight. But what was there to fight for? It wasn’t like Rintaro would learn to love you. And neither do you plan on wooing him. So, instead, you swallowed up your pride and called for Kita, knowing he would never judge you for the choices you were about to make.
“I actually called for you today because I wish to discuss royal marital laws, possibly with your mother. She would know about it best.”
“You need legal counsel,” he caught on, and you nod, “I can arrange that. I assume you want it discreetly, too. That is no problem at all. But if I may be bold, I wish to ask something from you in return.”
“Name your price.”
“It is about this maid that I am fond of. Airi,” her name came out breathily from his mouth, almost like a whisper. You noticed the Prince glancing around the empty garden almost warily, though you already took measures to ensure no one would be around to witness this conversation. Reassured, Kita sat up straighter and looked you in the eye, nothing but sincerity and determination in his expression. “I will do anything you ask of me, as long as it is within legal reasons, if you take her in as your personal maid.”
“I’ve heard rumors about you having affections for a maid in your quarters,” you mumbled, feeling almost sorry for the kind–hearted Prince. It seemed he, too, did not escape the heartbreaking torment for falling for a person you could never have. “So it is true, after all.”
“It is. You seem surprised about it. Is it so shocking to learn of a Prince having genuine feelings for another?”
You shook your head. “Not at all. I think I should know best that passion is something you brothers certainly have,” you snort, and Kita fights back a grin. “Very well, then. I will take care of your lovely maid, although I do wish to know – why are you assigning her to me? Have you… done anything to stain her honor?”
The color seeped out of the Prince’s face.
“I would never do such a thing.”
“I figured you wouldn’t.”
Kita’s shoulders squared before he exhaled. “Airi is… Ever since I set my sights on her, she has been in danger. People have been very unkind towards her, especially with the staff in my quarters. And as much as I would love having her by my side in my every waking hour, it would break my heart to know that she is being looked down upon simply because I admire her. But I figure with her at your side, with a new assignment, she will have some peace.”
Your heart ached for him. You could tell this was not an easy decision to make, but a necessary one if he wanted to ensure his lover’s well-being.
“You can still see her, Your Highness. It’s not like I will take her away from you.”
“I wouldn’t let you, either, but these are very difficult times for everyone in the Palace. The security of the throne weakens every day. The Parliament is restless, and there is only so little I can do with all these failed unions,” he rattled on, eyes widening when he realized it too late. Bowing his head, the Prince’s brows furrowed. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to–”
“Our marriage is not a failed union. Not yet. I will make certain it will not be a failure.”
It couldn’t be a failure. There was only one way out of this dreadful marriage, and as much as you hated it, that exit only existed in a path where you had no choice but to let him be a great King. This is why you need Kita’s mother’s counsel. Surely there could be a loophole in the clause that would invalidate the marriage. But until that opportunity presents itself, you were stuck here in this Castle, surrounded by everyone but your husband.
You had to make it work.
“With all due respect, Princess,” sighs the Prince, looking more remorseful than irritated. “Why is it that you try so hard? You do not need to stay with him, you know. It may be against the law for royal marriages to be annulled, but surely we can find a way. You do not need to torture yourself by spending one more day with your husband.”
“I know that.”
“Then why do you stay?”
“Because,” you croaked out, feeling a lump grow in your throat. “Because loving him is all I had known, and perhaps it is time I learn to despise him, as well.”
Silence stretches. The prince sat there, unmoving, as your words hang in the thick air between you two. You knew he would understand; he wouldn’t judge. But there is still concern in his handsome features that made you realize how pitiful you really are. And maybe there was no one else to blame but yourself, because you were foolish, and in love. But you were trying – by the Gods, you really were doing your best – to just be in love and not have to be foolish anymore.
Kita could see this as well. Your strength, your grit. He could see everything from where he sat, and that was why he simply nodded. “Are you getting there yet?”
“I will get there someday.”
Before the Prince could say anything else, a servant appeared from the bushes. He looked sheepish upon the intrusion, an apologetic smile on his face directed to the Prince. “Your Highness. It is time for your lessons.”
The Prince sent you a knowing look. This was not to be the last time you see each other, and you smiled up at him, grateful. It felt good to have at least one person you could lean on in the Palace. You stood up, too, shaking his hand just as his servant excused himself. If your memory did not fail you, the Third Prince studied law outside of the Palace and had to attend university, unlike his brothers who had chosen to indulge in their promised wealth after graduating high school.
“Excuse me, Your Highness. I have matters to attend to, but my words still ring true – I am only a call away should you need me.”
“Thank you so much for your time, my Prince.”
“It was my pleasure. I will inform you right away of my mother’s availability.”
“Oh, and Princess,” piped up the servant from somewhere around the bushes, “Princess Maiko is looking for you. She is waiting for you in her drawing room.”
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You should’ve expected that Princess Maiko would come looking for you. The whole ordeal she witnessed back at your rest house must have come as a shock for her. Sure, her marriage didn’t go so well, either, but at least Tooru hadn’t gone around sleeping with someone else. For a man who didn’t want to get married, he kept to his vow of loyalty to his wife. Still, you didn’t want this to be a competition on who had it worse – Maiko was simply worried, and you had to explain yourself for your untoward behavior on everyone’s getaway.
“Princess! Oh my gosh – how are you?! I was worried sick!”
“Princess,” you return her hug, smiling despite the fact the smaller Princess had a bone–crushing grip. “Thank you for your concern, but I assure you, I am well.”
“Oh, Princess, you couldn’t be,” she pulled back with tears in her eyes. You almost apologized on the spot now that you remembered demanding to return to the City without informing the others why. Especially not Maiko, who seemed to be clueless. “I… I heard from Tooru about everything. The entire situation with Iris and the Crown Prince – truly, I did not know a single thing. If I had, I would have told you right away.”
“I know, and I’m thankful for your support.”
You squeeze her hand in reassurance, and the Princess leads you to sit on the couch. She slumps on it rather ungracefully, her innocent, wide eyes moist as she shakes her head.
“I had no idea Iris could do that. I just… the moment she arrived in the palace, she was so lovely, you know? She was always a little reserved, and liked to keep to herself, but I never would’ve guessed. I truly thought she was a good friend of mine, and now I have no idea who she really is.”
“Neither did I.”
“How are you, though? And please, tell me the truth. You do not need to pretend all is well.”
You shrug half-heartedly. “I am the Crown Prince’s wife. I must learn to be strong.”
“You mustn’t torture yourself any longer,” she licks her lips, chuckling without a trace of humor in it. “Although I do not blame you for staying in a marriage without love,” she smiled sadly, holding your hand firmer where it sat on her lap. “What do you plan to do?”
“I will divorce him,” you announced, and finally saying it loud felt different than just having the thought float in your head. It now felt like a reality. A choice you had to be firm in making. Licking your lips, you couldn’t help but glance at the beautiful wedding ring sitting on your finger – how just like your marriage, it is sparkling yet meaningless.
Leaving him would be the right choice. It would not mean you were weak.
“Once I meet with Kita’s mother and work our way around the law… I’m going to leave him. If it is a proper marriage he wants, then it is the one thing he will not get,” braving to look her in the eyes, you force a determined smile. “I believe it is the right thing to do, Your Highness. I must pick my battles wisely.”
“I understand, and I support you if this is what you want to do.”
“Thank you, Princess.”
“Although…”
“Although?”
“I still find it hard to believe,” she quipped, momentarily letting go of your hand as she stood up, pacing around the room. Her dark hair, neatly braided and adorned with headpieces, slowly started falling into curled pieces around her delicate face with how fast she’d been pacing. Almost as if her feet couldn’t quite keep up with her thoughts. “Iris and Kiyoomi had been married for five years, and Tooru told me they’d loved each other long before then. I am aware I am not the best at reading the room, but surely I am not so foolish to miss the love in their eyes. I would have known, Your Highness, I swear.”
You smile, confused. “I… am not sure I understand what you mean.”
“I mean Iris never looked in love,” she reiterated. “Granted, she was never affectionate with Kiyoomi, so that much is clear, but with the Crown Prince? They barely even speak to each other.”
“You couldn’t have known if they did spend time together,” you told her as softly as you could, “I heard they often hid in Belleview Manor, away from the eyes of the public.”
“But I live here,” she argued, and you stopped trying to butt in. For such a small thing, you had already learned once Maiko had her head set on something, almost nothing could stop her. “I live in Honor Hall, just five minutes away from them! I could have heard something. And on the few times I do see them together, Iris had always seemed… walled off. If Rintaro was able to display his affections openly, Iris was not the same. That night you weren’t at the house, they did not seem like a happy couple to me.”
“What are you talking about?”
Maiko shook her head again, causing more curls to loosen. “They seemed familiar with each other, but not intimate. It was almost as if they were lovers purely in the bedroom, but they couldn’t have known each other’s heart,” her eyes lit up, before it dimmed again when she took in your somber expression. “I do not mean to give you false hope, Princess, but believe me. I know a man in love when I see one, and it is not the Crown Prince with Iris. But… but when you were not married yet, everyone could tell the Crown Prince smiled more. He laughed often, too, and he even spent more time with his brothers.”
“Well, that is only natural. He has a lot of siblings. Of course he would enjoy their company.”
“No, no, you do not understand, Princess. The Crown Prince… didn’t grow up that way,” she bit her lip, and then scooted next to you. “As the only son of the King and Queen, he was already more important than the rest. Because of that, he was raised differently – away and isolated from his brothers. He was always tutored alone, and never played with the other Princes. He spent his childhood locked up in his study, but then the Queen allowed him to attend regular school, and when he graduated… he met you. And I swear, he was different then.”
“Because he already met her,” you remarked, hoping she would stop already. Rintaro does not love you. “He’d become happier because Iris was already in his life.”
“I went to the same school with them; grew up with them. I had crushed on Prince Tooru for so long that I followed wherever he went, and where Tooru was, the Crown Prince would follow. They were born just months apart. And Iris never made the Crown Prince look… look…”
“Look what?”
“Look content,” she finally supplied. “But when the Crown Prince introduced you to us, he had this look on his face. When you spoke to others, he would always be looking at you, listening to your every word. Even when you were not in the same room, he would speak fondly of you. And he even once told me he still could not believe someone as precious as you had been attending the same lousy balls he’d been enduring all his life. He said that if he had met you earlier, he might have never skipped out attending the dances.”
“I don’t know,” your lips trembled, “I do not know what to do, Princess. Hearing of this does not make it any better.”
“I know, and I’m sorry, but you must understand,” she squeezed your hand, desperation evident in her tone. “Your husband looks at you the way I wished mine would at me. He may say otherwise, but his eyes cannot lie. He softens when you are around, Princess. That night you did not return home at Greenville, the Crown Prince could not sleep at all. And these past few days…”
“I believe that is enough. I do not wish to hear how he spent his nights at Belleview.”
“He didn’t, Your Highness. The Crown Prince has never even spoken to Iris ever since we returned from your honeymoon.”
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Rintaro could count the number of things pissing him off with one hand.
One: You had barely acknowledged his existence the past few days.
Two: Iris wouldn’t stop pulling him into dark, secluded corners in the Castle each time she chanced upon him. Two-point-five: She couldn’t understand he was not in the mood for another one of their trysts.
Three: Kiyoomi skipped another meeting concerning Itachiyama again.
Seriously, Rintaro understood being a Prince was tiresome work. It was not as grandiose as the tabloids made it out to be. Even in his sleep, he sometimes dreamt of paperwork, or he would wake up in the middle of the night with his hands signing off imaginary papers. The pressure was tougher on Kiyoomi, too, because he was expected to be ready to take after Wakatoshi at any time he even faltered – note: the First Prince never did – and to also act as representative for the other territory thanks to his birthright. But his brother was an hermit, and seemed to fear the sunlight, considering he never left his quarters. Or on the rare occasions he did, he would be hiding away in other countries doing who knows what.
He had just finished a meeting with some of the territory leaders regarding a public complaint that the price of goods had gone up, and some daily necessities were now ridiculously overpriced. One of the main suppliers of good livestock and coconuts, Itachiyama, made it even more expensive – not for any good reason, just that their leader loved to remind Inarizaki constantly that they needed him more than he needed the monarchy.
His goading affected his people, and Rintaro has had enough. Kiyoomi could at least try to pretend to be interested in the meetings. Out of all the nine princes, Kiyoomi was the most influential for being a half-blood. The Itachiyama president adored him. He wouldn’t have had to struggle negotiating for prices had he been doing his work. He was the damned mediator between the two countries, for goodness’ sake!
And to make it all worse, his life did not get any better outside the meeting rooms.
No, because his wife was intent on acting like he did not exist. And on the few times he did manage to be in the same space as you without you running off, you always looked through him. Like he wasn’t even a real person. As if he was just an apparition, a ghost in your mind that you could overlook if you tried hard enough.
He already knew you wouldn’t be in your quarters once he returned, but Rintaro still couldn’t help the pang of disappointment washing over him. He chose you to be his future Queen for many reasons, one of them being your wisdom in these kinds of things. You just needed a little encouragement to speak up, but Rintaro was confident you would make a great leader. You had genuine care for your people. You would have been able to help him make the best decisions for everybody – if you would just listen to him. Wasn’t that how marriages work? To share the burden of the Crown together? The Crown was too heavy for one person alone, which is why Kings cannot be crowned without their Queens.
Rintaro couldn’t do it alone. Each day was becoming more challenging for him, and he so desperately wished he could discuss the country’s future with you. He would feel more confident in his choices. He would be more reassured that he was doing the right thing, but it seemed that all he knew how to do lately was fuck everything up.
On his way back, Rintaro stopped trying to look regal. He let his shoulders slump and ran his fingers through his hair again. The gel be damned. Loosening his tie, he rolled his shoulders back and winced at how stiff his back was. Sitting on his ass all day long, having to listen to old men argue back and forth over money, and simultaneously having to deal with a marriage he’d already screwed over – Rintaro just wanted to disappear.
He wanted to return to Greenville.
It was peaceful there. People minded their own business, everyone had their own purpose and reason for waking up each day and there, he could just be himself. Not the Crown Prince, not a young man who had to hurt you for the sake of the throne. He could just… be free.
“Your Highness,” a servant bowed in front of him, keeping a respectful distance but enough to let him know he needed his attention.
“Good evening,” he greeted back, “Have you seen my wife?”
“Her Highness was with Princess Maiko this morning. Last I heard, she has not left the Palace, at all.”
“I see,” Rintaro was already moving towards Honor Hall before his feet could register it. It was a good twenty minute walk, and the chances of running into Iris weren’t miniscule, but it would be worth it. He could use some fresh air, anyway. And he figured with Maiko around, you would be less opposed to spending the evening with him – until he realized Maiko must have known everything, too. How he manipulated you, and left you in the middle of nowhere.
On second thought, having two Princesses who clearly did not welcome him would not make for a great night.
“My Prince!”
Rintaro stopped on his tracks. He had a split second to school his expression to surprise – the good kind – when he came face to face with the last woman he wanted to see.
“Mother,” he greeted, taking her gloved hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles whilst she fanned herself. “I wasn’t informed you would be visiting.”
She waved her fan around. “Oh, I had to nearly knock down the guards when they wouldn’t let me in, but I had to see my daughter. I heard from the news that you came home too early. Well, what is wrong? Is she sick? Does she not like the countryside? Or perhaps there was an emergency you had to attend to?” fanning herself harder, Rintaro’s hand wound at the small of her back to guide the older woman into a nearby seat. “She hasn’t answered any of my calls, and I am worried, my son.”
“Your concern for her will put her at ease, I’m certain,” he reassured, swallowing the uncomfortable lump growing in his throat. “This is just… a difficult time for us, Mother. I fear Her Highness is having doubts about our marriage once she saw how overwhelming the Crown could be. She simply wished to return home because she felt there were things to be done here.”
Your mother sighed and shook her head. “My poor daughter. She always felt the need to prove her worth by working herself to death,” spinning to face him, she pointed her fan in his direction – which would be considered a threat to the Crown Prince, but she was his mother–in–law. Her presence itself was a threat to his life. “Promise me you won’t let her exhaust herself, son. Promise me you’ll take care of her.”
“She is in good hands, Mother, I promise you this.”
Pleased with him, your mother beamed. “I was also… Well, I may be crossing the line, but now that you tell me my poor daughter is anxious about her royal duties, I was planning to hold a ball in her honor. A welcoming ball for the new Princess, of sorts. It should help her integrate into your world better, but still with the comfort of our support.”
“A ball sounds lovely. We can hold it anytime as we are still in our honeymoon period and she will be free for quite some time.”
“That is perfect! I will make the arrangements, then.”
Wearing his best Prince Charming smile, even if he was anything but, Rintaro found himself mindlessly agreeing to everything your mother wanted. He would have to squeeze all these events in his already hectic schedule, but he was not complaining. She was right. You deserved to relax and enjoy yourself. He should know best that having royal titles did not promise a life of gallivanting and endless tea parties. Once your mother had exhausted herself from all the planning, Rintaro escorted her out to the palace entrance, stopping only when your figure appeared from the corner.
Finally, you were looking at him.
But with a glare.
Well, he supposed beggars couldn’t be choosers.
“You are a far better actor than I give you credit for – lying to my mother like that.”
“I did not mean to.”
You rolled your eyes, and Rintaro bit his lip. Cute, he thought, but he would never say it out loud. He would simply enjoy the fact you did not push him away, or walk away as if you were scalded when he started walking next to you. For a moment, everything almost seemed normal. Minus the extreme glaring, of course.
“Surely. It’s not like telling her you manipulated me for the past two years was on your to-do list.”
“Do not use that tone on me.”
“I will speak with you however I wish. You do not get to tell me what to do.”
“You are right; I cannot tell you what to do, so do as you please, then,” he surrendered, and you must be surprised by how he easily gave in from the way you froze. Glaring harder, Rintaro bit his cheek, tilting his head to the side as he gazed upon your pretty face. And oh, how badly he wanted to smooth that frown you’re wearing. “I missed you. I have not seen you all day long.”
“Must have been a lovely day for you, then.”
It was hell, actually, was what he wanted to say, but even that did not seem enough to articulate what he truly felt. I missed you, and I’m sorry I hurt you. Please sleep on the same bed with me again. I want to hold you all night long, and your scent calms me. But instead, all that comes out of his mouth was, “It was not lovely at all.”
“Hmm. I’m not Iris.”
“No, you aren’t.”
He agreed wholeheartedly – you were not his lover. Iris would not argue with him like this; in fact, they never argued at all. Whenever they had misunderstandings, they resolved it by taking out their frustrations on the bedroom, and the next day, all would be forgiven and forgotten. It was easier with Iris, in some ways, because with you he actually had to use his words, and he had to say the right ones. Both of which he wasn’t good at, but would try his very best anyway.
“I heard you spent the day with Maiko. How was it? Did you two have fun?”
“As fun as two women suffering at the hands of men who despise them could have.”
Rintaro took a larger step to stand in front of you, his eyes narrowed into slits. “I do not despise you.”
“Really? You made me feel otherwise.”
Sighing, he ran his hands through his hair again, feeling much more exhausted than he did after the meetings ended. “You do not have to make this so difficult, you know. I am trying to fix this.”
The laugh you let out is sardonic, teetering on the edges of borderline angry. But he would take it – because arguments with you were better than having you ignore him, and he would take a thousand more arguments if it meant you talked. He would consume your wrath over your coldness every other day. Even when you cross your arms and look at him like he was the most vile creature to ever walk the Earth – because your eyes are on him, and in that moment, in the middle of another of a hundred hallways in his Palace, there was no one else but you and him. A husband and his wife. A Prince and his Princess.
“Oh, are you now? Because last time I checked, you were still in love with someone else, and I’m still nothing but a pawn in your silly game.”
“I may be in love with someone else, but it was you who I couldn’t get off my mind.”
“Is that supposed to make my heart flutter?”
You reel back as if burnt, and Rintarou couldn’t fathom why your expression hurt him so much. As if his declaration, his vulnerability, of being putty in your hands repulsed you instead of excited you. However, he refused to show he hung desperately to your every word, refused to admit that you held all the power in your hands, not him. So, he plays it off, and flirtingly lifts a brow just to get you even more riled up.
“I was hoping it would.”
“Whatever it is you’re planning, Rintaro, you won’t win.”
His eyes darkened. Suddenly, all self-restraint he previously had had been thrown out the window. The urge to press his lips to you – yes, those same lips scowling at him – becomes all too consuming. He fools himself into taking the heat in your eyes as desire instead of anger. And he takes one step forward, two, then three, until your back hits the wall and his large frame prevents you from escaping. He liked you best here, he realized, under his mercy and staring up at him with your soft lips, pliant and open to release a gasp when he leans in. Closer, closer, only for his lips to meet the skin of your cheek.
Rintaro stifled a disappointed groan.
Masking it with a chuckle, he trailed his lips down your cheek and to your jawline, all the way until he’s inhaling your intoxicating scent – he wants your damned perfume to stick to his skin for days to come so everyone in the Palace knows he is yours. And like a flower, you bloom only to him. Craning your neck and pushing your chest upwards to his despite your resistance, breathing hard and heavy to let him know he wasn’t the only one affected by this.
And by the Gods, he wanted nothing more than to take you in this wall right here and then.
Brushing his lips just above your pulse point, Rintaro smiled. Your heart was beating a mile a minute, and he was certain his was, too, when you began to crumple his shirt in your hands. “I never knew my name could sound so important without the titles attached to it.”
“Wh–what?” your query came out breathily. Not that he could blame you, for his words have also begun to sound more like a whisper.
“Rintaro,” he echoed, nosing your neck to greedily take in more of your scent. If not on his skin, then he will settle for the evidence of you all over his clothes – and damned the servants who dared wash his dress shirt. “Not Prince, not Your Highness. Just Rintaro. It makes me feel like… it is just you and I, husband and wife, as simple as that,” you draw in another gasp just as his fingers start ghosting over your waist, fighting the urge to pin you in place, or to just hold you delicately because he knew he’d broken you enough. Rintaro felt weak, his head dropping in the column of your shoulder. “I truly did miss you. And I do not like how I spent many nights, in our bed, alone.”
“You do not deserve to share a bed with me.”
“I know,” he lamented, and that firm resolve of keeping him at a distance was enough to wake him up. Pushing himself off of you, Rintaro took a solid minute to admire you like this – lips parted, expectant for a kiss, and skin flushed with a thin layer of sweat, with eyes so bewildered he could see himself clearly in the reflection – that he was just a man now, and not really the husband you wanted him to be. Once he had his fill, Rintaro smoothed down the wrinkles you fisted in his shirt and took a step back. “But you do not deserve to sleep in just a couch. Take the bed tonight. I will sleep outside.”
“But that’s–”
“I’m the one who fucked up,” he smirked, sarcasm dripping from his face, “So I should be the one sleeping uncomfortably. I know I cannot tell you what to do, and neither do I plan on ordering you around, but this is the one thing you cannot argue with me on. You will take the bed. Understand?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Back to titles. Back to formality. Back to reality.
“Good girl,” he murmured absentmindedly, nodding in the direction of your bedroom. “Let us head back to our quarters. I’m buying you a new dress for the ball first thing in the morning.”
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To say Rintaro had changed would be an understatement.
He was a completely different person than your husband in the honeymoon. It was as if… last night’s intimate encounter had brought him back to the Rintaro you fell in love with, but this time it felt different. He felt more intense. Maybe it was the fact that his secrets were now laid out in the open, which could mean his attentive actions toward you no longer held the purpose of winning you over. Maybe now he truly just wanted to spend time with you because he could.
Cancelling his plans for the day, he’d told the servants you were going out shopping, and oh, what a cunning, devilish Prince he is. He knew you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off of him out in public. With so many eyes watching, you spent nearly every second of the day with your arms looped around his, laughing and smiling at every word he said, and not daring to keep your eyes off him lest someone took a photographed and headlined it ‘Newly Married Royal Couple Having Their First Lovers’ Spat In Public.’ No. No, that would be catastrophic. The Queen would be furious.
Here, in public, you were forced to act sweet and touchy with him, to which the stupid Crown Prince basked in as he led you from boutique to boutique. He complimented you on everything, even when you wore a hideous bright orange gown that made even the designer flinch. But in Rintaro’s eyes, you were simply mesmerizing. He even got a suit that matched all of your dresses, claiming that everyone should know he was married to you. Everyone already knew that – the whole world knew – but you didn’t want to burst his bubble.
Aside from having a day off, your husband genuinely did seem to be doing things other than paperwork.
You stopped being kind once you entered the car, however, when the windows had rolled up and you had both stopped waving to the people. Here, it was just the driver and the both of you, and the driver knew better than to comment on whatever happened, anyway. Sighing, you scooted to the other end of the seat, prying yourself off of Rintaro’s tight grip around your waist.
“Drop the act.”
“What act?”
“Oh, please,” you scoffed, taking off your gloves and folding them neatly in your lap. “We are in the privacy of our car. You needn’t pretend any longer.”
“Who said I was pretending?”
You looked at him dead in the eye. “You are not fooling anyone. This was all a PR act – you did not actually mean whatever it is you said to me out there, but worry not. I’ll get out of your hair and divorce you – surely that will make everything easier.”
The way Rintaro’s eyes nearly popped out of his head would be comical if he didn’t look so scared. In a flash, your husband crossed the distance and sat next to you, his hurried movements causing his bangs to fall into his eyes. His large hands began to engulf yours, and you suck in a breath – without the gloves, it felt more intimate. “What divorce?” he chuckled nervously, brushing his lips over your bare knuckles. It was the faintest of touches, only done to appease you, but it still didn’t stop the bolt of heat coursing through your thighs. Gods, it was just so hard trying to stay mad at him.
“You know that’s impossible. Royal marriages are forever. Look, if you truly wish to divorce me, fine. But you know you will have to help me become King first. Once I am crowned, I can write a new law that says royal couples can be separated.”
“You are despicable.”
“I am,” he whined. Whined! Seriously, who was this man? “But I promise you, if you help me, I will let you go. Look, I’ll even find a high–ranking nobleman for you. The best of the best. You wouldn’t have to be lonely anymore. Just… don’t ever mention divorce to me right now. I won’t let you.”
Scoffing, you pull your hands back from his heavenly lips. “You seriously think after everything, loneliness is somehow my biggest issue?” Rintaro opened his mouth to retort, but you shook your head, making yourself small between him and the window seat. You hated it, how helpless you felt, from wanting his touch to being burnt by it. You hated it even more how you couldn’t look him in the eye as you mumbled, “Have you ever thought that maybe I just want to forget you?”
“I do not want you to,” he breathed out, and your eyes snapped shut when you felt his fingers brush over your cheeks. “But I am not so selfish to deprive you of a good thing. You will find someone who can love you better than I could.”
Your heart fell.
“Well, that would be easy. You never loved me to begin with.”
The Crown Prince never spoke again. You both mulled over your silences as you arrived back at the Palace, heading into the bathroom to do your nightly routines. Rintaro was to your left, taking out his razor blade and shaving foam while you stood to his right, lathering on your cleanser and toner. Thankfully, the silence did not feel as heavy as it did on the ride back home, but it was still far from being comfortable. It was only after you’d moisturized and turned to leave the room that Rintaro caught your wrist, glancing down at you with a pleading expression.
“Please. Can we stop fighting? I thought today was fun. Let us not end it hating each other.”
“I’m sorry, Your Highness, if I ruined your precious day,” you snapped, leaning back to examine how he missed a spot below his jaw. A slight stubble was visible, but you had to stop your hand from reaching out to him. You sighed. “All this space in the Palace and they couldn’t give us separate bathrooms?”
“Traditionally, royal married couples slept in separate rooms. Everything was separate, too, including bathrooms,” he gestured around you, “Perhaps you would’ve liked the old ways.”
Screw it. The small talk is the most awkward thing you have ever experienced.
“���You missed a spot,” you finally mumbled, taking his razor from him and gesturing for him to crouch down so you can reach. “Do you want me to finish it?”
Rintaro, despite his surprise, nodded and obeyed. It must have been uncomfortable for him to slouch, but he did so without complaints. He let you shave him as you saw fit, turning his head side to side, lathering on more foam, and you watched as his shoulders visibly deflated. Eyes fluttering close, Rintaro sighed, the tips of his fingers gingerly tracing circles as they laid beside your hips.
“You will take the bed as discussed,” he reminded, “You will not argue with me on this.”
“Okay,” you answered, because you, too, had no energy for more arguments. Once you were done with him, you wiped off the rest of the foam with a warm, wet towel. You both left the bathroom and went your separate ways – you to your king–sized bed, and him just outside the bedroom and into the lounge room, where you spent the past few nights sleeping. You realized he must not be sleeping well from it because of his large frame, yet Rintaro did not seem to mind.
Just as he was about to close the door, he lingered for a few beats.
“Thank you for going along the happily married couple act today,” he said, lifting his gaze from the carpeted floors to gaze into your eyes. “And for the record, I meant it when I said you looked beautiful.”
Then he turned, and swiftly closed the door, leaving you to be with your thoughts – all filled of him.
It didn’t help that the sheets and pillows still lingered with his scent.
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You had your upcoming ball to thank for distracting you from your confusing feelings for your husband. That in itself was such a ridiculous statement, but one that ringed true. After Rintaro’s surprising gentleness, and the revelation from Maiko that he hadn’t spoken at all with Iris, you were now in a dangerous zone called Getting Your Hopes Up. Truly, you should know better. You had known Rintaro for years to know he could be effortlessly charming. He could have you wrapped tight around his finger, smiling like a lovesick fool, only for him to break your heart once more.
If not for that cold, hard truth, you would have invited him to bed with you that night. It seemed too tempting. It felt like the right thing to do. But you didn’t, and you were glad you held back on your desire, because you weren’t sure you could handle another heartbreak.
Especially because these past few days made you realize one thing – that you were still in love with him. The next morning, you found yourself wishing you had woken up next to him, and that was enough to make you avoid your husband all over again. And much to your disappointment, Rintaro stopped trying to chase after you, too, after countless rejections on your part. He had kept his distance, and only spoke with you momentarily when you arrived at your mother’s ball and had to exchange niceties with everyone.
After that, your husband excused himself and spoke with his brothers, but not after your parents couldn’t stop cooing at how adorable you and the Crown Prince were. He handled it with grace; kissing your cheek and thanking them for raising such a wonderful daughter. But the moment your parents became occupied with welcoming other guests, you were now left to entertain the other women in the ball.
Until the music began playing.
Until your song reverberated all across the room.
“This is the song you and the Crown Prince danced to the night you met,” your mother whispered beside you, giggling in your ear. “I requested it specifically for this night. Enjoy the dance with your husband. He’s already waiting.”
True to her word, you could feel Rintaro’s heated gaze on you from across the room. He’d stopped speaking with his brothers – the twins smirking beside him, Akaashi smiling at you softly, Tobio waving enthusiastically while nursing a glass of wine, and Kita firmly hovering from the walls with a concerned frown. Not that you paid attention to them. Your gaze was held by your husband and him only, bewitched as he started walking forward. The crowed parted for him like a true Prince until nothing stood in his way. Everyone smiled, giggling behind their gloves at the apparent ‘romance in the air.’ Beside you, your mother pushed you encouragingly, and you could feel everyone’s eyes on you, waiting to see if you would take the Crown Prince’s outstretched hands.
“My love,” he whispered above your gloved hands, and your heart skipped a beat. He didn’t call you Princess, or Your Highness. You knew it was for the sake of keeping appearances, but by the Gods, you loved him. You were so hopelessly in love with your husband that you placed your heart in his hands once more, silently pleading with him not to break it as he led you in the middle of the dance floor. “May I have this dance?”
“Yes,” you breathed out, your hand resting on his shoulder as naturally as his arms came to your waist. The exact same movements from the night you first met, with the same song, but with your love for him stronger tonight than it did when you first laid your eyes on him.
This time, you danced as man and wife, and you recalled his words from the other day.
How there were moments it seemed so simple – where there were no titles, just you and him, having this dance like it was the most natural, inexplicable thing in this world.
The chord struck. The crowd parted. He took the first step in the dance, and you took a step back. Not once did you tear your gaze away from him, happily drowning in the depths of his hazel eyes you could look at forever. And isn’t that what you’d always wanted? To spend a lifetime with him, to grow old together. It would have been so easy if it weren’t for –
“Don’t think about anything else,” your husband shook his head lightly, “Just enjoy this moment. Tonight, there is only you and I.”
“Okay,” you found yourself nodding, and his grip on your waist tightened for a second. “Just you and I.”
Rintaro’s lips curled into the faintest of smiles. “Just you and I.”
You and him in those moments – you felt immortal. Like nothing could stand in your way. Or perhaps you could die tonight, and you would die happy. Because you were in your husband’s arms, and he was looking at you and only you, murmuring how you were becoming more and more beautiful with each passing day. You were melting in his arms, like goo. Like pudding. And he was strong enough to catch you, to brush his nose against yours at each dip, or letting his lips linger on your forehead each time you came back to him with each spin.
But happy moments never lasted long enough, and soon the rotations were beginning. More couples have joined the dance floor. Through one spin, you caught sight of Tooru and Maiko. Neither of them looked happy, but Tooru visibly brightened when he caught your eye, and shamelessly winked. On the other side of the room danced Iris and Kiyoomi, with the latter looking so nauseous you worried dinner would be spilled on your mother’s floor. And then too soon, Rintaro’s hands were leaving yours as he moved to the nearest dance partner, and you were caught by a pair of strong, muscled arms.
“My turn,” Tooru teased, a grin now on his handsome face as he nudged his head in Rintaro’s direction. He was now dancing with your mother, and you could tell, even from this distance, the smile he wore was genuine. “Should I beat him up?”
You chuckled, throwing your head back. Despite his jokes and jabs, Prince Tooru was a surprisingly great dancer – less stiff than Rintaro, and more confident in his receiving when you spun and dipped. But dancing with him did not feel the same. There was no passion, no yearning, no longing – just the lighthearted air of good humor and his calming nature.
“I don’t think beating the Crown Prince up would be a very wise decision.”
“Indeed, but I was never the Prince known for making wise decisions. That would be more Shinsuke’s forte,” he snorted, and the song reached a part for another rotation. However, Tooru refused to let you go and intentionally spun you away from what was supposed to be your next dance partner. Out of shock, you slapped his chest, and his broad chest rumbled with laughter.
“Your Highness! That was unbelievably rude!”
“As I have said,” you both laughed when he spun you again, “I am not the Prince known to be socially adept.”
You bent over in giggles, your head resting on his chest as you danced more throughout the night. Your feet were getting tired, but your mother was right – this was a night to enjoy. You danced to your heart’s content, exchanging jokes with the handsome Fifth Prince until you craned your neck to the side, only to be stopped by Prince Tooru’s large hand. This time, he no longer smiled as he gazed upon the dancing partners behind you, and your skin turned cold.
You had a feeling you knew exactly why.
“Don’t look. You won’t like what you’ll see.”
Nodding, you pursed your lips and forced a smile at him. “It’s okay, Princess,” he comforted, “Just look at me. You need not concern yourself with others.”
So you danced, and danced, until you could hear your father pleading with the Fifth Prince to give his daughter back because he didn’t get a chance to have a dance with you yet. Reluctantly, Tooru handed you over to your father, but not without a faux frown.
“That was a lovely dance, Your Highness. I wish we could’ve danced more.”
“I think we danced enough.”
Tooru’s smile was guarded; secretive. “I’m afraid it was not enough.”
You danced with your father next. And it was lovely, seeing him up close with all his smile lines and wrinkles. You missed him so, dearly, and he felt the same way. It hurt having to lie to him when he asked how you were settling in the Palace, but you didn’t want to concern him with your personal matters, and for some reason, it didn’t sit well with you if your father disliked Rintaro. So you swallowed your discomfort down and told him everything was great – silently wishing he wouldn’t pry further. He didn’t. And when the song slowed, your father kissed you on the cheek before letting you meet with your next dancing partner.
Stood in front of you was a great wall of what could only be described as majestic. Dressed in white with gold ornaments, Prince Kiyoomi’s curls framed his handsome face beautifully. You had been so accustomed seeing him in more comfortable clothing, and in the privacy of his own home, that seeing him out here in society, it reminded you that he, too, was a Prince.
The Second Prince – the would have been next King should Ushijima and Rintaro falter.
“My Prince.”
“Princess,” he bowed, taking your hand in his as you made your way back to the dance floor. The music played again, this time louder, and the Prince leaned down until his lips were brushing against the shell of your ear. You repressed a gasp, unable to help yourself from digging your nails into his palm when you were greeted by how good he smelled – like mint, new leather, and pine. It also dawned on you how tall and firm the Prince was – perhaps taller and more muscular than Rintaro.
“Y–Yes, Your Highness?”
“Remind me to thank your mother for extending her invites to the forgotten Prince. Imagine my shock when I saw her invitation letter this morning.”
You chuckled nervously, thankful that he had now slightly tilted his head back. “I hardly doubt you are a forgotten prince.”
He snorted, effortlessly spinning you with one hand. “It’s not like I do my duties to begin with. I wouldn’t be surprised if I truly was forgotten,” distracted by his scent, you unknowingly stepped on the hem of your dress and slipped backwards. A scream nearly tore out your throat when the Prince’s large hands cupped the small of your back, your chest pressed to his and his curls brushing against your cheeks as he held you close. “Careful.”
“Th–thank you.”
You were a mess after that. You were never the best dancer, but something about being in the older Prince’s presence made you extra nervous. If he noticed, he didn’t comment on it. He simply danced with grace, and hid his grimace well each time you stepped on his toes. He had also convinced you to stop apologizing every time you did, and by the time the dance was over, you were more than ready to disappear.
“Thank you for the dance, my Prince,” you bowed, words hurried, “I shall see you–”
“Kiyoomi!” a woman appeared out of nowhere, her thick, dark curls pinned up beautifully with some loose strands swaying in time with her hips. She had the same moles as Kiyoomi, and you watched, entranced, as the older woman wrapped her arm casually around the prince. The two shared a silent conversation with their eyes before Kiyoomi glanced at you, and the woman followed his line of sight. “Oh! Your Highness. Greetings. I don’t believe I have introduced myself before – I’m Kanami; Kiyoomi’s mother.”
You smiled at her, politely taking her hand as she extracted herself from her son’s arms and taken to draping herself all over you. Discomfort must be written all over your face, because the Second Prince sent an apologetic smile your way.
“It is an honor to meet you, Miss Kanami. Are you enjoying the night so far? The travel all the way from Itachiyama must have been exhausting.”
“Oh, it was, but it’s all worth it now that we’ve met again!” she squealed, and you paled.
“We have met before?”
Just as she nodded and went about to retelling this so–called meeting, Iris popped up behind Kiyoomi, her smile stiff as she regarded Kanami. Instantly, your mood soured. She hadn’t spoken to you at all tonight, which you were thankful, but something about the thought of her dancing with your husband, and probably being suggestive while at it had your blood boiling.
“Mother! Such a shock seeing you here. I wasn’t aware you were invited.”
Kanami barely glanced her way, her dark, curious eyes still on your face.
“Hello, Iris, and it’s Miss Sakusa, dear,” she corrected, her enthusiastic smile momentarily fading into a scowl before it returned. “Say, Your Highness, since you’re still on your honeymoon period – and I’ve heard your dear husband is too busy these days – would you want to come visit Itachiyama with me? I would be honored to be your host. It will also be a great opportunity to learn more about your Princess duties and politics!” leaning closer, she whispered behind her gloves, although her words were loud enough to be heard by Prince Tooru and Iris. “Although if I will be honest, politics does not interest me in the least bit.”
Your mouth fell open and closed, unsure of what to say, until you settled on chuckling and patting her hand wrapped around your arm. “I… Thank you for invitation, Kanami. I am most tempted to see your beautiful country, but Princess Iris should be the one visiting her territory, should she not?”
Kanami scrunched her nose.“The Princess never grew up in Itachiyama. She would be just as clueless as you. Besides, I have always wanted to invite you over ever since you had Kiyoomi as your last dance on your eighteenth birthday!”
“He… was?”
“He was! Don’t you remember, dear?” she turned to Kiyoomi, who looked like he wanted the floor to open up and swallow him already. But judging by his reaction, it seemed true – Kiyoomi was your last dance on your debut ball. “Well, in that case, I was always fond of you. I may be crossing the line here, but it was always a famous royal saying that whoever was your last dance on your debutante ball was your destined lover.”
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ohdeerfully · 10 months ago
Note
Spoilers ahead for the final episode!
Imagine reader being a healer for others but is cursed to not being able to heal themselves.
Like during the final battle, their skills are heavily relied on while they also fight along side them. Afterwards they rush to find their lover Alastor to heal the wound on his abdomen. Poor thing was so worried about healing him that they forgot about patching up themselves.
hello everybody im alive........... hello hold your applause /j
i got two very similar requests so i combined them into one! hope thats alright with the two anons! hugs and kisses
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Stitches
alastor x reader (fluff) TW: nothing serious, just some briefly graphic(ish) descriptions of violence/gore, reader referred to as female but doesnt influence plot
join my discord!
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It was supposed to be “no big deal” for him; that’s what he had promised you. You worried, of course, but knew better than to pester and beg for him to change his mind. Plus… of all demons to hold back Adam, Alastor seemed like the most capable. You had to trust him. He promised.
You were in the midst of slaying an Exterminator of your own, cutting it down with a sword lined in angelic steel, but you couldn’t help that your train of thought kept returning to the Radio Demon, who was currently on the roof of the Hotel maintaining a forcefield that prevented more angels from joining the battle.
You allowed your eyes to glimpse up towards said roof even though you knew it’d be impossible to see him from your position on the ground. You had looked just in time, however, to see the shield that surrounded the battleground begin to dissolve, an opening blooming around the figure of Adam. 
A sickly cold feeling of dread churned down your spine and into your stomach, but you forced yourself to stay focused. Alastor would be fine, surely. It’s not like he said it was an invincible shield. You had other things to worry about, anyway, when you realized a wasp-like swarm of Exterminators had made their way in from the dissolving forcefield, their glittering white wings and shining angelic weapons molding together in a blur.
You fought along a small group of demons from Cannibal Town, providing aid and healing when possible. It seemed to go on for hours; stab an angel, tear one away from a companion, heal, stab, save, heal… it somehow began to feel monotonous and repetitive. Your whole body stung, littered with wounds ranging in extremity, but you couldn’t stop. Not if you were going to win this thing.
That monotony was broken when the chaos halted for a brief moment—not even a second. You had seen Charlie looking up in… fear? Shock? So, you looked, and your breath hitched. It took you a moment to process.
Why was Adam flying above, looming, grinning, analyzing… Why, when Alastor was supposed to be keeping him occupied? The immediate answer that came to mind brought back that sickening feeling from earlier, but increased a hundredfold. It seemed that Charlie also had a similar idea.
You couldn’t ignore the feeling this time and, against your better judgment, took off towards the crumbling Hotel, abandoning your position as healer. They could wait, honestly. The pounding in your ears and anxiety in your body clouded the sensation of angelic spears grazing past you, filling your already burdened body with more gashes.
You were halted by a powerful beat of wings, wind pushing you backwards onto your back. You scrambled into a sitting position, leaning on your arms. All of the aching, stinging pain from the night seemed to rush in all at once because of the interruption, and you could barely keep your eyes steady on the man in front of you.
The first man, at that—standing all too high-and-mighty above you, a twisted grin curling up his mask. 
“Hey, bitch,” He said almost casually, grabbing you by the hair and lifting you up to be eye level with him. You stifled a pained cry at the sensation, though your eyes filled with tears, betraying both your fear and pain. You hated yourself for looking so weak in front of Adam, but you were almost too exhausted to mask it.
“The fuck did you do to Alastor?” You talked through a mouthful of blood. You spat some out in his face, to which the grip on your head tightened but he seemed otherwise unbothered. You did see a glint of madness in his eyes, though.
“So you’re that fine babe of his?” Adam mocked, looking up and down tastelessly. You didn’t expect much more from the ‘dickmaster’ but you couldn’t help but feel disgusted. “Satan’s daughter told me all about you when she was trying to tell me you gross fucks could be redeemed.”
He started rambling out a multitude of insults and curses. It seemed fitting, you thought, that the stuck-up first man would be too full of himself to keep his guard up and just start going off on a tangent about how cool and awesome he is versus how gross and weak your kind is.
“I mean, the fuck? You all sucked ass at being alive, so why the shit would we let you up into heaven? And, quite frankly, too fucking ugly to live up th—” He choked on the last few words he had, his eyes widening in shock and pain. He dropped you to the ground.
During his rant you had managed to use your heel to kick up a stray spear from beneath you. His tirade had given you enough time to balance the weapon between your feet, aim, and jam it forward into his stomach. The robe he wore darkened, glistening gold seeping into the fabric and from the hole you punctured into him.
“You–” He spat, hovering his shaking hands around the impaled spear. He gingerly pressed a hand against the wound, lifting his bloody palm to his face to look at the mess. He looked up, down, up again, and took a quivering step towards you. There were a million expressions in his eyes all at once; rage, fear, pain, disgust… 
“You fucking bitch,” He took another step, reached a hand out towards you. “You can’t kill me! Nobody can kill Adam! You’re just a worthless, sick, good-for-nothing sinner that couldn’t—fuck!” He stumbled and fell forward, and you jerked away as his fist nearly closed around the hem of your shirt. As much as you hated the guy and wanted him dead, you still cringed at the sight of him falling onto the spear and impaling it completely through his body.
You heard a distant cry of his name, but you didn’t hesitate to see who it was. You took off into the hotel, albeit slowed by a painful limp, and made your way up the stairs towards the radio tower.
There was an ominous feeling in the air as you ascended the ladder into the nearly demolished tower, slowly opening the hatch into the room. An intense, static-y feeling smothered your senses, hair raising and skin prickling at the sensation. You ignored the uncomfortable feeling and peered around the dark room. 
Claw marks and a trail of blood caught your attention, leading your eyes towards a corner where the demon you wanted to see most sat against. He had been wordlessly watching you with glowing red eyes since you entered.
“Al,” You said almost breathlessly as you rushed forward, ignoring the way your leg shot pain throughout your body in protest. You fell gracelessly to your knees in front of him.
“I don’t want you here,” He said rather plainly, a hiss in his voice as he spoke through his teeth and a grimace of a smile. You ignored the comment, eyes traveling over his body before settling on his palm, which was pressed against his abdomen. There was a still-growing patch of dark blood seeping through his shirt and between his fingers.
You reached your hand out towards him, flinched to a halt for a moment when his claws tightened around the fabric of his shirt, but continued. He made no move otherwise to stop you, but you could feel the tension in the air growing as the static ambience got louder.
“I can take care of myself,” He said, his other hand suddenly snatching your wrist. His grin widened, but his eyes narrowed. You frowned at him.
“Yeah, but it’d be a lot easier for me to just fix you now,” You retorted, trying to jerk your hand away from his grip. He didn’t yield. “If you stop being so damn stubborn.”
“I’ve dealt with much worse, my dear,” He continued to convince you to leave him alone, his voice smooth with that manipulatively suave voice he put on sometimes. Unluckily for him, though, you were just as stubborn as him.
“But I’m here this time to help you,” You finally managed to free your wrist from him, your sharp expression unwavering from his own, which seemed equally aggravated. Maybe he was too weak to actually stop you, or maybe he actually did want your help and just wouldn’t admit it, but he didn’t stop you from lifting his bloodied hand from his wound.
You pursed your lips at the grizzly sight, but said nothing. You ignored the stinging smell of blood that flooded your nose. You hovered your hands over the wound, channeling the energy in your body that granted you the ability to rapidly heal others. A faint light flowed from your palm and into the gash across Alastor’s torso, forming glowing stitches that weaved throughout the damaged skin.
Periodically glancing up at his face as you worked, you watched for any sign that told you to stop, but it never came. He stayed silent the whole time, which was… rare, from him. You would never admit this out loud, but Alastor seemed almost… pitiful, in this silent, weakened state. The Radio Demon himself, reduced to a bloodied, passive husk of himself.
After healing so many demons during the battle outside, you had spent so much energy. You were already so weak and exhausted, but you pushed yourself to force just a bit more—
“There,” With a weak sigh, you sat back, admiring your own handiwork. Even though it was magic, it did take some mental ability to know how to use your power. “Was that so hard?” You chided him jokingly.
He gingerly drug a clawed finger down the stitches, analyzing it for himself. 
“I have to admit,” He began, looking up at you. “It would have been nice to have you in my early years as— dear?”
You barely heard what he was saying as all of your senses seemed to get foggy all at once. Your vision blurred and speckled, you ears felt muffled, and you swayed with lightheadedness. You pressed a hand to your face, trying to steady your breath.
“I’m good,” Your voice came out in a quiver. “I think I just—”
You don’t necessarily even remember fainting, but reason that you must have as you stared at the ceiling above you. You woke up ten minutes ago, and spent the time piecing together everything that happened. How much time has passed since then? A couple hours? Days? It was hard to say. Though, you thought as you looked around. The hotel looks… damn good all things considered. 
The door creaked open and your ears perked at the sound of a familiar voice humming some tune that you couldn’t recognize. Considering the atmosphere wasn’t tense, you actually welcomed the prickling, static-like sensation that Alastor’s presence brought. 
“Ah, the sleeping beauty awakes!” He announced pleasantly, setting a plate rattling with two neat little glasses of warm liquid on the bedside table. You eyed them and quirked your eyebrow.
“Seems you were ready for it,” You said, commenting on the fact that he brought two cups.
“Well, what kind of man would I be if I wasn’t au fait to my darling’s status?” He explained, clasping his hands behind his back and leaning over you. He would never admit that he brought up two cups every time he checked on you just in case. 
His overall demeanor seemed appropriately confident and indifferent, but his eyes held an uncharacteristic look of tenderness and worry as he looked over you, analyzing your condition. He sat at the edge of the bed, picking that plate up again and offering you a cup.
You sat up against the headboard and took it with a light smile, warming your hands on the smooth surface. You enjoyed the aroma of the tea, and you realized it was your favorite. How sweet.
The room was silent, save for the quiet sound of a radio that seemed to just… radiate from him… but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Now that you were sitting up, you took the chance to look down and over yourself. Bandages were wrapped tightly over your arms, chest, stomach, legs… basically everywhere. You were suddenly all too aware of the dull ache that afflicted your entire body.
When you looked up, you noticed Alastor had been looking at you rather intensely. His expression was weird and unreadable. You tightened your lips awkwardly at the strangely passionate look in his eyes, looking into random directions to try to ignore it. You tried to concentrate on taking another sip from the cup in your hand, bu, to your dismay, it was already empty. You sat it down on the plate.
“How’s my stitchwork holding up?” In an attempt to dissipate your own awkwardness, you reached towards his abdomen. He caught your hand gently, directing it away from himself. But he didn’t let go.
“No doctor in all of Hell could have done better,” He complimented. He still had a hint of that weird expression. “If only you could fix yourself up the same. Fortunately I have some experience from my time alive…” He trailed off.
You couldn’t contain yourself anymore, jumping forward and tightening your arms around his neck. The static in the air sharpened for a brief second, matching the tenseness in his body, but slowly returned to a normal frequency. After a few more seconds, you felt him slide his own arms around your waist, pressing you against himself.
“You scared the fuckin’ shit out of me,” You said, voice muffled by his coat. “I thought Adam killed you. I thought I was going to find your body buried under the rubble.”
“So you avenged me by killing Adam yourself? I appreciate it,” He remarked lightly, a slight chuckle rumbling from his chest. His voice was low, breath tickling your ear as he held you with a feather-light but somehow still firm grip. 
Alastor was quiet for another moment, and you realized the static in the air had completely dissipated. You also realized the pressure of his arms wrapped around you was getting increasingly tighter.
“You worried me as well,” He said finally. “You were out like a hibernating bear for days. You worried everyone.” You pulled your head out from the crook of his neck and met his gaze.
“Can’t a gal get her beauty rest?” You joked softly, bumping your shoulder against him playfully. He swayed for a moment at the contact, but the eye contact never broke. Wait, was he getting closer? 
Instinctually your eyes closed, and the briefest kiss was placed on your lips, then your nose, then your forehead. Before you could open your eyes, Alastor placed his hand on your head and pressed you back against his chest. He then began rubbing his hand gently on your back in a soothing motion.
Despite being in bed for apparently days, you still felt tired. You sank into him as his claws drug gentle shapes against your skin, careful to avoid bandaged spots. He hummed a quiet tune, and you noticed his microphone of a cane, which was laying against the bedside table, emitted an accompanying song.
“Maybe redemption isn’t all that,” You commented with a sigh, lazily picking at the hem of Alastor’s collar.
“Hmm?” He prompted you to continue.
“Is Hell really so bad if you’re with your favorite soul?” It felt corny to say, but you couldn't really find a better way to phrase it. Plus, you couldn't take this rare moment of tenderness for granted.
His hand paused for a moment, and he gently squeezed your arm in response. You felt him press another light kiss to the top of your head.
“I know, now,” He finally replied. “Just the feeling.”
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raginglesbian2006 · 11 months ago
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Alastor with Overlord!reader (pt:2)
A/N: Since ya'll really liked the previous headcanons I wrote about them, I decided...why not more?
Here's pt:1
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When Alastor finally brings you to visit the Hazbin Hotel, it is safe to say everyone is curious
I mean, how in the unholy hell, do you have the patience to deal with a psychopathic maniac like Alastor?
It also shocks them to the core to see you two act lovey-dovey with one another, him kissing your hand or forehead whenever he gets the chance to and you kissing his cheek from time to time
You suggest interior designs to Charlie every once in a while to spruce up the hotel. She takes every piece of advice from you to heart or...whatever demons have.
Vaggie finds you pretty alright as well. She thinks you're more genuine and tolerable than your other half
Husk and Niffty are already acquainted with you, seeing as they've been on Alastor's leash for quite some while. They both enjoy your presence
Angel Dust once flirted with you for fun which resulted in him being shot out through the roof of the hotel by Alastor. He fixed the damage later. Angel was fine as well (barely).
Sir Pentious gifted you some flowers. It was sweet. Alastor does not see him as a threat so he doesn't mind it (He burnt the flowers to ash once you were looking away )
When there was the uprising against the angelic exorcists, you fought Adam alongside Alastor. He got injured trying to protect you from the first man's deadly attack.
You helped him with his wounds after his whole breakdown sequence, scolding him for putting you first before himself. He just looked at you with a tired smile. (He thought you looked cute all worried about him)
Everyone at the hotel is betting on who, out of you two, is going to propose first.
"Ya'll act like an old married couple anyway, might as well get hitched"
Vox still wants to fuck the both of you but is failing spectacularly
Lucifer hits on you from time to time to piss off Alastor (mission successful)
You reassure Alastor that you are his and his alone
Afterwards, you give him head scratches (don't tell anyone)
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