#SOMEONE PUT ME OUT OF MY M II II SERY | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

myownwholewildworld · 6 months ago

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uniformed!joel one shot - the police officer - part ii

part i | series masterlist | main masterlist

pairing: police officer!joel x f!reader.

summary: what? you really thought officer miller was done with you? 🙄 don't be so naive. he's going to make good use of that cell he's thrown you in.

a/n: am i a rabid dog who needs to be put down? yes i am. you'll find me taking a walk and touching some grass because oh boy 🥵 please enjoy part ii to police officer!joel. as always, all interactions are welcome! i'd love some feedback if you feel like sharing. yea, that's everything i gotta say, i'll go hide under a rock now. thank you for reading! <3

warnings: 18+, mdni. no outbreak AU. dark theme. a hella lot of unhealthy smut. dub-con. age gap, no age gap, you choose (joel is mid-late 40s, reader is at least of legal drinking age). power imbalance (joel is a cop). object insertion (oopsie 🥴). fingering. squirting. oral (m and f receiving). strong sub/dom vibes. mouth fucking. slut shaming. cheating. reader talks to boyfriend while being drilled. unprotected piv. creampie. overall, rough, filthy sex. joel is a bully and a dick, basically, so be warned. alternating pov. no description of reader apart from having hair that can be pulled. not proofread so i'm sorry.

w/c: ~7.7k (someone put me down, seriously).

tagging some people who seemed interested in part 2 (please let me know if you want to be removed, no pressure!):

@cestlavieinrenaissance @ijustlovemensm @fartcloudfartcloud

Joel looked through the rearview mirror. You were sat on the middle seat of his cruiser, silent and with your gaze down. You almost looked like you regretted what had happened, but he knew you had actually enjoyed it. Your slutty moans and your squirting cunt spoke for yourself ― the proof of your ecstasy still staining his uniform’s trousers.

He adjusted the mirror, paying more attention to you than to the road. Luckily, it was well past midnight, so there were not many cars around. You had parted your legs, probably on purpose, and gifted him with the sight of your tight pussy. Joel wished the interior of the car was better lit, so he could have a good look at your cunt.

Ah, yes, he knew you wanted more. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be exposing yourself like that to him. His cock twitched at the memory of being clamped down on by your narrow pussy, deeply buried in between your puffy lips. Joel bit the inside of his cheek, focusing his eyes on the road ahead.

“Is my cum spilling out of your hole?”, he broke the silence.

You felt the guilt eating you up. You shouldn’t have pushed Officer Miller’s buttons like that. You blamed the last drops of alcohol running through your veins that had distorted your reality ― as soon as they disappeared from your system, you had realised that you didn’t want what was about to happen. However, your body had betrayed you, reacting to him and his provocations.

I’m not a cheater. I’m not a whore, you chanted, keeping the tears at bay.

But deep inside, you knew you were just lying to yourself. You blamed your body, but the reality was you did enjoy it ― all of it, everything he gave you, everything he took from you. You had never been so turned on in your life ― never squirted before, never had your pussy eaten so filthily from behind, never been used like that.

You pursed your lips, eyes down and still daydreaming about him fucking you senseless ― you unsuccessfully attempted to erase those hot flashes that your mind was trying to take you back to. Unconsciously, your legs had relaxed with your train of thought, and that was when you heard Officer Miller’s question.

You jumped in your seat and pressed your knees together, suddenly very conscious of your pussy. You could feel you had gotten wet again at the mere thought of him jackhammering into your cunt on top of the hood. Once more, you felt betrayed ― you didn’t want to feel like this, you didn’t want to be this horny for him.

You slowly nodded in reply, ashamed of yourself ― your unwelcomed slick dragging his cum out of you. But you wouldn’t tell him that, you wouldn’t let him know that your hole was crying for more.

“I― I think I’m making a mess of the upholstery. Sorry.”

Why did your voice sound so high-pitched, so moany? You needed to get a grip of yourself or you were going to end up impaled again. You kept your eyes down, avoiding his ― tears of frustration gathering on your waterlines.

“Only with my cum? Or are you gushing again, doll?”, he questioned with a husky voice.

You knew he was getting horny again ― your nipples reacted to that thought, wrinkling suddenly, your breathing accelerating.

You shyly looked up at him, your gazes meeting on the rearview mirror. His eyes pierced through you and you felt exposed ― there was no point in denying it, you knew he knew. So you nodded again with watery eyes.

“Yes, sorry”, you apologised, although you were not sure why.

“Yes what?”, he insisted, his attention dancing between the road and you.

“I’m― I’m gushing”, you replied in a very low whisper, so abashed a tear ran down your cheek.

Officer Miller didn’t say a word for the rest of the trip to the station, so you had more than enough time to dwell in your embarrassment.

Joel’s horniness was clouding his mind to a dangerous degree, so he summoned all his strength to drive the damn car instead of stopping in the middle of nowhere to fuck you again. After fifteen eternal minutes, he braked as he steered into the parking lot of the station. Then the cruiser came to a halt.

He had to cup his swollen bulge, kneading it a bit, in the hopes it wouldn’t be too noticeable. What a little minx you were, confessing your pussy was leaking all over the seat. You were acting all sheepish now, guilt-ridden, but Joel knew what you really wished for. And that was getting your cunt drilled again.

Walking out of the car, Joel got to the back door and opened it up for you. He extended his hand to help you out of the car, all gentlemanly. But when you grabbed it indecisively, he hauled you out of his Crown Vic. You gasped at his brutish manners, but quickly closed your mouth when your breasts pressed against his chest.

Joel hurried his hand down, riding up your skirt a bit, his fingertips caressing your inner thighs. You looked at him, a mix of surprise and shame, when he dipped his fingers in your silky slit. He moved them up and down a couple of times, buttering your fold with your discharge and his cum. You panted at his contact and your forehead leaned against his chest as if your neck was unable to support the weight of your head anymore.

You were so receptive to his touch, Joel had to control himself. If he could, he would turn you around, bend you over and fuck into your hole until dawn. But another patrol car entered the parking lot, stopping a few metres away. He scoffed in frustration, reluctantly removing his hand from in between your legs.

Stop, don’t, please stop, you wanted to tell him.

But the words never abandoned your mouth, stuck in the back of your throat. His fingers stroked you so intimately, so good, you couldn’t muster the strength to stop him. And, if you were completely honest with yourself, deep down you hoped he didn’t. When his digits traced your whole damp furrow, you tilted your head towards him ― your lips pressed against the pocket where he had kept your panties, in an attempt to mute the moan that wanted to slip out of your mouth.

And then he unburied his hand, leaving you spiralling down with lust. You whimpered, vexed. Your eyes were still half-lidded with desire, your mouth agape. Officer Miller took a step back, breaking all physical contact with you.

“You really are a harlot”, he muttered while the hand that had explored your pussy dipped in his pants, and you knew he was spreading your gush all over his cock. That should have disgusted you, and it did, but your pussy fluttered in response.

“Please don’t say that, and don’t do that again”, you were finally able to find your words.

He cocked a brow while taking out his hand of his trousers. You didn’t look down, although you wanted to. The thought of him wet with your tacky cum destroyed a few neurons in your brain.

“Your mouth says no, but your cunt says yes. And I believe your cunt more than I believe your mouth”, he announced, unbothered by your petition.

Then he rolled down your skirt, grabbed you by the elbow, and forced you to walk in front of him. But first Officer Miller got something out of the passenger’s seat ―your purse and the paperwork― before he pushed you towards the station with your hands still cuffed.

You pondered your options when the female officer on the counter greeted Officer Miller.

“Hey Joel, another drunken bird?”, she asked, her blue eyes ignoring you completely.

“Yeah, that’s a Saturday for ya”, he said boringly, his fingers still sinking in the flesh of your elbow while he handed her your license and insurance.

“I’ll book her in for you”, said the woman, looking down at the paperwork spread on her desk.

You wanted to say something, to ask her not to leave you alone with him, to tell her what had happened. But what were you going to say, really? That you actually enjoyed being fucked stupid on top of his cruiser’s hood? That you were still wet, the dampness in your fold begging to be licked again?

While still debating, you felt Officer Miller ―now you knew his name was Joel― staring at you. He probably suspected what you were thinking, it was like he could smell fear. You dropped your eyes to inspect your bare feet, silently letting him know that you wouldn’t say a word. If you had had a peek at him, you would have seen his sly grin.

“All the cells here are full, you’ll have to go to the adjacent building, I’m afraid.” You thought the female officer winked at him.

“That’s alright. Thank you, darlin’”, he smiled at her before pushing you in front of him. “C’mon, move.”

You shambled towards the backdoor, walked out and then Joel― Officer Miller opened the door to the secondary building. You entered with him on your heels. His body was so close to yours, you felt a pleasant tingling start on your neck that shot down your spine. You cockled your lips, disappointed in yourself.

The room was not too big, it only housed four cells, all of them empty. The only decoration was a wooden desk with a chair for a police officer to be stationed. There was also a small room at the end, which had a unisex bathroom sign on its door.

You didn’t like how isolated it felt in there ― you had hoped there would be someone else in there with you. To stop him, to stop yourself. You really were out of luck.

Officer Miller pushed you to the furthest cell in the room. “Stay”, he commanded while he uncuffed you, then grabbed the keys off a metal hook, unlocked the cell and opened the door for you. “Be my guest, doll”, his tone was so snide.

You simply obeyed with averted eyes. Maybe if you didn’t look at him, your pussy would stop palpitating. You could still feel his fingers buried in your tacky slit, your clit begging to be paid attention. He had left you so unsatisfied, your brain kept going back to the moment he ate your cunt from behind. You shuddered, conscious that you had to stop daydreaming about it.

“Now be a good slut and finish what I have started. I know your pussy is asking for it”, his voice rumbled under his breath, locking the cell behind you. Officer Miller dropped your purse on the table and unsheathed his gun to leave it there too. Slowly he turned and sat down on the chair, conveniently positioned in front of your cell.

You shook your head no with teary eyes. Teary not because you were afraid, but because you really wanted to ― frustration corroding your vaginal nerve endings. Your clit twitched as you sat down on the wooden bench, looking away from him.

“You’ll give in, sooner rather than later, I bet.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Officer Miller manspreading on the chair, a hand slipping under his belt. His gaze was transfixed on you while he touched himself. You turned your head towards the wall, your clit lit on fire at the mere thought of him jerking off in front of you.

You pressed your knees together, looking for some relief and finding none. You tried not to but ended up whimpering in frustration. Joel was right ― you gave in. Your eyes welled up with shame and lust as you discreetly hid your hands between your parted legs. You caressed your clit with your index and then traced the entirety of your fold, a wave of pleasure washing over you.

His groan made you look askance in his direction. Joel had freed his cock through the zipper of his uniform trousers and was pumping himself. The sight of his veiny cock made your mouth run dry. Then you noticed he had something tied around his veiny dick. You had to take a second look, this time with no furtiveness, to see what it was.

He had wrapped your wet panties around his manhood and was rubbing himself with it. You couldn’t contain your whoring moan any longer after that. The vision of him masturbating with your underwear almost strangling his cock sent you in a spiral of desire ― you were, once again, out of control.

Two fingers slipped in your dripping opening while your thumb stroked your clit, this time more intently. Leaning your head back against the brick wall, you closed your eyes, whimpering like a bitch in heat as your digits picked up a reckless pace between your legs. Your breathing intensified, coming in and out in short bursts. Your cunt was so drenched that every time you pushed your fingers inside of you, wet, sucking sounds quickly followed each thrust.

Lava was pooling in your overstimulated furrow, your whole sex so slick your fingers slid in and out easily. Then you felt it: the climbing to the climax and then the falling. You screamed, bending over yourself, as the orgasm hit you hard, very hard. You dropped to your knees on the floor while you felt your insides melting, your inner walls trying to squeeze something that wasn’t there. Your clit convulsed one last time, a moan tearing through your throat as you looked up, eyes closed, imploring to the heavens.

You had not noticed but Joel had stood up and was right in front of you, his dick poking in between the bars ― your panties still wrapped around the base of his cock. He was whacking off with a tight grip, his hips slanted forward. “Come over here, right now”, he emphasized.

His cock had you mesmerised, it was calling you. You wanted to suck him so badly, that you mewled as you crawled towards him.

Joel gritted his teeth at the scene. You moved towards him on all fours, panting and whimpering. You were such a hot mess his cock pulsated in his hand. When you were close to the bars, you straightened your back and sat on your heels, awaiting permission. Joel grinned at the sight ― he fucking knew you would cave in. Sliding a hand in the space between the bars, he placed it on the back of your head while resting his pelvis against the metal rods.

“Open wide”, he croaked with lechery, his mind somewhere far away.

His throbbing cock hurt like hell when you parted your lips and sticked your tongue out, your eyes still damp and your eyeliner running down your cheeks. Joel fisted your hair in a ponytail and pulled it back, so your face was up. He spit in your mouth, deranged with lust, and then swiftly drove his dick down your mouth until your bottom lip was touching his hairy balls.

He held you there for an eternal minute, rejoicing in the wetness of your cavity while you simply choked on his cock. Tears sprung to your eyes at the intrusion, he was way too far down your throat. But did he care? No, he was just chasing his own release. Holding your head in place so you wouldn't go anywhere, he bobbed his waist back and forth, fucking your mouth as deep and fast as he could go.

You probably did it on purpose to drive him crazy, but your lips pressed around his girth as you tried to slurp all the fluids. You would gag from time to time, especially when he would force your head close to him, but you didn't turn away.

Joel looked down as he used your mouth as he pleased. Your eyes were all watery because of the deep intrusion, your lips rubbing against his skin, your palms against your knees as if you were all innocent.

Joel only tugged you back to free his dick when he felt your neck muscles contract, announcing you were close to throwing up.

God, how much he loved your mouth. The mouth of a whore.

You heaved, trying to catch a breath, fighting your gag reflex as much as you could. Your eyes met his. His pupils swirled with lust and that scared you.

Do I really want this?, you asked yourself again, unsure of the answer. You didn’t and did at the same time ― you couldn’t stop yourself. It was like you had lost your freewill and just turned into his plaything, letting him do with you as he deemed. You had succumbed to Officer Miller ― there was no point in fighting back, your own body was betraying you, getting wet in all the wrong places. Maybe if he finished quickly, he would let you be.

You looked up at him when he pushed you closer to his erection again. He was so ruthless ― with no care in the world, Joel dug his pulsing cock down your mouth again, the glans suffocating you once more and the fabric of your underwear tingling your nose. You unconsciously tried to clear your throat, suppressing a cough. Your bottom lip trembled because of how wide your jaw had stretched to house him. Your spit and his precum pooled in your mouth, dribbling down from your chin to your cleavage. You felt the trickle going down in between your boobs and wetting your top.

Joel grinned as he swept away a tear with his thumb.

“Now eat it like you mean it, like the slut you are”, he croaked.

Joel let go of your hair, both of his hands gripping the metal rods that separated you.

You pulled back to catch a breath and swallowed all the fluids that had accumulated in your mouth. Officer Miller was eyeing you expectantly, his dick twitching in front of you each time blood rushed through it. You broke visual contact to focus on his warm cock.

Without thinking, your fingers wrapped around his thick column and started pumping him while your tongue tapped the tip. His groan spurred you on, so you sucked on his glans like if you were a babe breastfeeding. From time to time, you would run your lips down his length, tracing the pulsating vein that fed his erection. By how his hips would sway every time you did that, you knew he loved it.

And so you repeated it, over and over again. Smother the tip, slide your lips down his cock, gently nibble and suck on his balls, and then back up ― your tongue sticking out while licking his shaft until you sealed his glans between your lips again.

Your body had a mind of its own, because your index found your clit again and caressed it softly. The core of your pleasure was heating up again ― your leaking entrance contracted suddenly when the lust reached a higher peak. You moaned with his dick in your mouth, eyes closed, as you fingered yourself unashamedly.

Then you felt it ― a hard pulsation in his cock, announcing he was close. Officer Miller tried to pull back so he wouldn’t come, but you were having none of it. You neglected your pulsing clit, threaded your arms between the bars and placed each hand on his butt cheeks. You forced him forward, pressing your palms against his ass, so he would be locked in place while your wanton mouth took him in as far down as you could.

You didn’t let him go and with a harsh, deep moan, Joel came in your mouth. His hot cum flowed in bursts and clogged your throat, almost asphyxiating you ― but you still didn’t let go. Your eyes were fixed on his, although he wasn’t looking ― Joel had closed his eyes to fully feel his orgasm, his hips still swaying back and forth in your mouth with the last wave of his release.

He fucking knew it. You were so hungry for him, you would even force an orgasm on him. His knuckles were all white due to the force he was using to grip the metal rods. His jaw was so clenched, he thought he might have chipped a tooth. When Joel regained control of his muscles again, he looked down at you and smirked.

“Aren’t you a little bitch, eh? You think because you’ve made me come a second time, I’m not gonna fuck that tight, tiny hole of yours? Well, you’re in for a treat”, he said matter-of-factly.

He just needed a bit of time to have an erection again. And, in the meantime, he was going to have fun with your body. A lot of fun.

Joel moved back his hips so his cock slid out of your mouth. In the process of doing so, a trickle of cum ran down the corner of your mouth. He quickly grabbed his shaft and with the tip, he gathered the cum off your skin and pushed it back between your lips. When you opened your mouth to collect his cum, he noticed you hadn’t swallowed.

“You gulp my cum down right now or else”, he demanded, inserting his dick in your mouth to help you keep it closed.

You tried to explain. “I’ve never don―”, you enunciated the words as you best could, your mouth still full with his spent and his cock.

He grunted, annoyed. “I don’t fucking care, don’t waste a drop of what I’ve given you. A good slut eats what is fed to her.”

Even though he was treating you like shit, your body got aroused at his words. Why? Stop, you begged to yourself, imploring for the gushing between your legs to disappear.

Joel glanced down at you with a cocked brow, awaiting. He wasn’t joking, he really meant it. So you swallowed ― twice, because there were still remnants of his sperm lingering in your mouth. You had never had anyone come in your mouth before ― let alone swallow it. It didn’t taste like you had expected it though ― it was warm and sweet, so smooth it just slid down your oesophagus without effort.

He literally had just used you like if you were his personal glory hole. You should feel ashamed of yourself ― and you did, very much so. But right now, your lust was greater than your shame. And the proof was on the floor between your knees: there was a small puddle, your fluids right there for him to see.

Oh, and he saw.

“Such a whore, you’re dripping like a broken pipe. Aren’t you embarrassed of yourself?”, he asked into the void.

You just whimpered, maddened with unspent passion. Your clit was still twitching, your opening palpitating. Had you not had enough embarrassment already? You had come five times, and you still needed more. Officer Miller was right ― you were a whore. You circled your clit, your eyes fixed on his, almost begging him to help you out.

“Don’t worry, doll, I ain’t done with you yet. Turn around”, he ordered you.

You blinked at him, unsure if he was to be trusted. A voice inside your head screamed at you not to, but you ignored it. You were so horny, you just wanted the fire within you to be extinguished.

You let a soft cry escape your lips as you obeyed his command ― you were on all your fours, your ass cheeks resting against the metal bars, your puffed-up pussy completely exposed to him. You heard him kneel behind you before cupping your whole cunt with the span of his palm, rubbing it delicately.

“Will you look at that? Obedient like a bitch in heat. With a red, swollen pussy, all ready for me to play with”, he laughed at you while you simply bleated, shaking your head yes at his words, uninhibited.

Joel suddenly slapped your cunt so hard, your arms failed you and ended up in a knee-chest position, your ass up in the air for him. “Ouch!”, you let go, your cheek resting against the concrete on the floor.

A cold, rubbery texture kissed your pussy lips and you lifted your head over your shoulder to see what it was. Joel was wielding the nightstick that was attached to his belt a second ago ― he lodged it between your damp flaps, moving it up and down to wet it with your discharge. You moaned, really moaned out loud, knowing what was about to happen.

With your forehead against the concrete floor, you closed your eyes with pure satisfaction when Joel started penetrating you with the baton. Your nails scratched the hard surface underneath, your very curated manicure ruined. Officer Miller pushed in a few more inches, your flesh parting to house the stick. And then, abruptly, you wailed in pain as the end of the nightstick kissed your cervix rather harshly.

You saw stars behind your eyes and tried to push away.

“No, doll, no. Stay put for me”, his free hand rested on the small of your back, keeping you in place.

You remained still for a minute, while you adjusted to such deep intrusion. The pain had been very intense, but it started wearing off as Joel spun the nightstick around in your hole. After a while, you finally relaxed and the cop resumed, pumping the baton in and out of you slowly. Then his hand drifted down from your lower back to your quivering clit and he kneaded the right spot expertly.

You whined, the pleasure so overwhelming it brought tears to your eyes again. You fluttered your eyelashes to clear your vision, your mouth open wide, your breathing irregular. Your womanly cave clutched onto the nightstick, all wet and sensitive. You could feel your heartbeat on your cunt, pulsating so hard it was maddening. His thumb pressed circles on your clit and you sobbed audibly, your orgasm so close you were on the verge of the precipice.

Then a phone went off, you were barely conscious of it ringing until Joel stopped what he was doing and stood up.

“No, please, please, Joel please”, you begged, almost crying, wanting to come so badly.

He left you there, on all your fours and with this baton sticking out of your weeping cunt, almost fully inserted.

“Ah, look, Sweetie is calling you. Bet he’s all worried about you”, he chuckled walking towards you, your cell phone on his hand. He had also taken something from your purse, but you couldn’t see what before he put it in his pocket. “Pick up and pretend you’re not having the best sex of your life.”

He put the phone on speaker and left it by your head. Your mind raced with panic, a very tight knot forming in your throat. This made it too real; you were really cheating on who you thought was the love of your life. And what was worst, you were cheating on him and enjoying it like the slut you were.

“Hey, honey? Are you okay?”, your boyfriend said.

“H―Hi, sweetie. Yeah, I’m fine”, you managed to reply with a steady voice.

Then Joel started jackhammering you with the baton relentlessly, so hard it forced you to close your eyes. Your moist pussy compressed so tightly around the rubbery stick, you had to cover your mouth to stop a moan from coming out.

“Where are you? I thought you’d be back like an hour ago”, he inquired, noticeably worried.

“I… I am in a nightclub, just walked out when I saw you calling”, you lied through your teeth. Joel cackled behind you while his thumb caressed your clit again, putting a sweet amount of pressure on it. “Ah, mhmmm… I should be back home in… uhmmmm… like an hour maybe?”, you bit your bottom lip, soft moans slipping out.

“You sure you’re okay? You sound weird, honey”, your boyfriend insisted.

Joel picked up a very fast pace with the baton, drilling you with it so hard the climax was fast approaching. Your whole body was rocked back and forth with the strength of his thrusts. Your clit melting at his suggestive touch.

“Yes, I drank a bit, mhmmmm… that’s all. I’ll get a taaaahmmh-xi back. Gotta go”, you talked fast, wanting to get the words out before you wailed. You managed to cover your mouth again just in time.

“Okay, take care, honey. I love you.”

At that point, the end of the baton kissed your cervix again but this time it pushed you over the edge. You had the biggest contraction of your life, your angry pussy trying to break the nightstick inside you. You came so hard, you squirted so much it almost looked like you had pissed yourself ― the puddle on the floor had grown considerably. Your eyes welled up, your creamy pussy fluttering, and your clit still writhing. You bit into your hand to suppress the loudest, sluttiest moan of your life.

“Honey?”, your boyfriend said, weirded out by the fact you hadn’t said it back as you always did.

Your orgasm was still washing over you. “Love you too”, you whispered, so guilt-ridden you wiped away some shameful tears from your cheeks.

Then he hung up.

“Oh wow, this is what love looks like to you? I almost feel sorry for the guy”, he made fun of you as he got up, the nightstick still inserted in your pussy. “Up”, he instructed you.

You had nothing to say, because you deserved his pun. There was no denying you were enjoying yourself a little bit too much. With a defeated sigh, tired of fighting your inner battle, you stood up with trembling knees. Your legs felt so wobbly you had to hold on to the bars.

Officer Miller dangled the keys in his hands before opening the door of the cell. For a second you thought that was it, he was done, even though he said he wasn’t a few minutes ago. But when he walked in front of you with his cock poking out the zipper of his uniformed pants, you knew he wasn’t.

Disappointment but also excitement came over you.

“Walk towards the bench. Get up on it on all your fours, doll.” He guided you to the farthest corner of the cell, where it was dark and hidden away in case someone interrupted.

It was like he knew all the blind spots. Had he done this before with someone else? A pang of jealousy tugged at your belly. You’re not the only one, you told yourself.

Completely surrendered to his desires ―and your own―, you followed his lead and did has he commanded. Once you were in the position he wanted you in, he walked to your side and nudged your cheek with the warm, tacky head of his cock.

“Give it a kiss, show me some gratitude”, he husked in a rumbling, raspy tone.

You turned your head ninety degrees and kissed the tip. He still had your panties wrapped around his erection. Licking your bottom lip, your eyes locked on his. A wide grin spread on his face. The motherfucker looked like a goddamn god when he smiled like that, dimples on his cheeks.

“Suck on it like if it was your personal pacifier, darlin’.”

Your tongue twirled around the plump tip as he finally took the baton out of your quivering pussy. You gasped at the emptiness you suddenly felt, his glans caressing your palate. Remembering your order, you quickly sealed your lips around the head of his cock and sucked on it, never breaking eye contact. The tip of your tongue tried to wiggle its way down his slit, slightly parting it and making him groan deeply.

You kept up the work with your smothering lips as one of Joel’s hands travelled down your back, briefly caressing one of your butt cheeks, to then cup your silky cunt. His fingers dipped in your welcoming slit, so velvety they slid up and down with no resistance whatsoever. He rubbed you softly while you worked diligently to make him hard again. One of his fingertips tempted you by getting lost in your needy hole, but he quickly removed it.

“C’mon, let’s get your wanton pussy ready again to ride some cock”, Officer Miller stepped back, his now hard cock slipping out of your mouth.

He walked around the bench and knelt behind you, your pulsing cunt perfectly lined up with his eye level. His mouth hovered over your ass cheek and then bit into your flesh ― his teeth marks were going to be there tomorrow, but that was not your main worry right now.

With no previous warning, he spread your cunt open and licked it from the clit to the perineum in one long, sweet stroke. You swooned at the feeling, half-lidded eyes and pursed lips. Moaning again, Officer Miller ate your pussy masterly while fisting himself, his tongue lingering in the right spots. He then taunted your clit while he fingered you slowly, his fingertip rubbing your g-spot.

Joel alternated his finger and the tip of his tongue to intrude in your opening. It felt delicious, his wetness mixing with yours. His hooked nose would get trapped in your slit when his mouth dropped to attend to your needy clit ― you heard him inhale your scent with no shame, dragging his nose in your silky fold as his mouth returned to your shaking entrance.

Officer Miller really knew how to eat pussy, so much so you would dream about his mouth feasting on your cunt every single night for the foreseeable future. Probably every single day too.

Your breaths quickened, fire melting your insides, your clit so sensitive you didn’t know if it was painful or delightful. You felt like you were about to ride the biggest wave of your life ― and then he stopped, standing up.

Frustrated sobs left your lips, almost mewling ― your pussy begging for release.

Your inner battle had been silent for a while, but came back with full force when you felt Joel’s cock lodged between your tumescent flaps, dousing himself with the product of your pleasure. He waved his hips against you, his dick skidding through your gushing furrow with ease.

He was going to fuck you again.

You tensed up, but you should have known this was coming. You didn’t want to cheat on your boyfriend again. Cheat for real, that was. Penetration was where you had marked the invisible line in your mind between cheating and just messing around.

Touching yourself while thinking of Joel’s cock? Not cheating.

Sucking his dick like a thirsty, panting dog? Not cheating.

Letting him fuck you with his nightstick? Not cheating.

Talking to your boyfriend while another man made you come? Not cheating.

Getting your pussy blissfully eaten from behind? Not cheating.

Him fucking you senseless with his cock? Definitely cheating.

You knew it sounded stupid, but your mind was really making an effort to make you feel a bit less guilty about what was happening.

You did not want this. Yes, you had messed around with him at first, but once your bravado abandoned you, you realised you did not want this.

Right? Right? Or at least you tried to convince yourself of it.

“No, wait”, you whispered when the tip of his throbbing cock kissed your dripping entrance.

Joel slid his drumming cock between your soaked folds, wetting himself. His mind spiralling down with desire, with lust. He took a moment to revel in the feeling of having his dick sweetly sheathed by your sodden lips.

Then he lined up the head of his thrumming dick with your drenched opening. When he heard your infuriating petition, he just cocked a brow. No, you were not going to deny him that, not after all the effort he had put into making you come over and over again. Your denial angered him.

“What a selfish slut you are”, he muttered furiously between gritted teeth before impaling you in one deep thrust ― his hips entirely flush against your pussy, his cock buried as far as it could go.

You moaned like the bitch you were and rolled your hips back into him, your trembling cunt hugging his cock.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought”, he murmured, still mad at you.

How fucking dared you tell him no? You were such an ungrateful bitch. He wasn't going to take no for an answer, not when you had been enticing him all night.

Joel spanked your ass hard, and you whimpered ― the palm of his hand leaving a red imprint on your skin. “You’re a whore. Say it out loud.”

“I am a whore, I am. I’m such a slut for you, Officer”, you wailed, bouncing your hips back and forth while he stayed still, fucking yourself with his dick.

Your neediness mildly soothed his anger, but not enough.

He slapped your ass again before grasping your hips to keep you in place, then Joel started fucking you as hard and as fast as he could, rutting into your tight hole mercilessly. His mind was just blank as the orgasm started to build within him ― the muscles in his lower tummy tensing, his balls contracting, his cock pulsating to the rhythm of his heartbeat. This was heaven, your pussy was.

He kept drilling you relentlessly, your whines growing louder and deeper, meeting his thrusts by pushing back your hips into him. The pace was so diabolical, your back arched, almost resting against his chest in a half-standing position. His broad hands left your waist and travelled up to hold your boobs while he perforated you, the carnal sound of flesh colliding against flesh filling the room.

Joel suddenly stopped, sliding out, and you whimpered, not wanting to be left unsatisfied again. You didn’t see what he was doing until he stuffed your mouth with your panties and covered your mouth with his hand, inserting his dick back into you unceremoniously.

“Don’t scream so loud or they are going to hear you. And I don’t want you to get me into trouble, understand?”, he threatened, resuming the plunging of his throbbing cock into your wanton cunt.

You just nodded, biting down on your underwear, while he fucked you stupid. So hard, so fast, so filthy, you couldn’t take it anymore. Your muffled moans announced your next climax, your pussy clamping down on his pulsating cock.

You both came undone at the same time, his hand still over your lips as Joel’s warm spent filled you up for the second time tonight. It came out of him in waves, both of your sexes beating in harmony.

Sweaty and tired, Joel let go of your mouth to move his hand down to slap your clit harshly. You whimpered, your clit so oversensitive it twitched one last time, making you come again. You bent over, resting your weight on your hands, as Officer Miller remained inside you for a few minutes, you cockwarming him with no complaints.

Suddenly hearing the ripping of plastic, you looked over your shoulder to see how he opened the packaging of a tampon with his teeth. And then, before you could think, he took his soft erection out of you and immediately inserted the tampon in your leaking hole, using it as if it was a vaginal plug to contain his semen inside you.

“Do not even think about taking it out until at least tomorrow. Understood?”, you nodded frantically, feeling slightly humiliated, but you didn’t say a word.

Joel pulled down your skirt and then placed the palm of his hand in front of your mouth. You spit your messy panties on his palm and he put them back in his pocket. You didn't bother asking for them this time, you knew he wouldn't give them back. And, weirdly enough, you wanted him to keep them.

You sat down on the bench with him standing in front of you. You looked up at him, your eyeliner all smeared on your cheeks. Your lips were swollen of eating so much dick.

“I think you’ve learnt your lesson now, right, doll?”, he asked with a smile, sweeping away the tears on one of your cheeks with his thumb. The gesture was almost sweet and caring.

You nodded again, wholly submitted to him. “Yes, Officer.”

“Good girl. Now go clean yourself up in that bathroom over there. I’ll take you home so your poor little boyfriend doesn’t worry about you”, he chuckled as you got up and hid in the small restroom.

You looked at yourself in the mirror. You definitely had gotten more than what you had bargained for. But as much as you wanted to blame Officer Miller for everything that happened tonight, you knew you had been asking for it. With a heavy sigh and out of tears, you washed your face, your thighs and your sensitive pussy.

Once you walked out of the toilet, all semi-decent again, you saw Joel leaning against the wooden table, arms crossed at his chest. When you approached, he got up. His frame was so broad with square shoulders, his biceps flexing in that uniform, you kind of understood yourself for giving in to temptation. He was something else. Maybe it was the uniform, maybe not, but there was something about him that made your pussy melt for him.

Forgetting him and this night was going to be a herculean task. Would your boyfriend ever live up to him? Even to a shadow of what Joel had given you?

You halted in front of him. As if you were his, he dropped a hand in between your legs, his fingertips looking for your now clean hole. You separated your legs slightly to give him access without remonstrance.

He smiled at you sufficiently when he noticed the tampon was still in you, just as he had commanded.

“Good girl”, he muttered, gently caressing your clit as a reward for your good behaviour.

Against all odds, you smiled back at him, swooning at his praise.

You did the journey back home on the passenger’s seat of Joel’s Crown Vic. From time to time he would check the tampon was still in its rightful place, stroking your clit in the process. Had your hole been unplugged, you would have leaked on the upholstery again.

You both remained silent ― your mind racing with thoughts, trying to come to terms with what you had done.

What were you going to do? Were you going to confess to your boyfriend? Would you keep it a secret? Joel had fucked you so good, you thought you would never enjoy sex with anyone else.

Damn, your mind was a tangled mess. But you blamed it on his tentative finger, still stroking your clit.

The cruiser stopped and you looked at the building in front of you. You had arrived at your destination. Joel removed the hand from your fold and you sighed, gripping the handle.

But before you opened the door, you looked at Officer Miller.

“Will I ever…?”, you didn’t finish your question because he was eyeing you with amusement, his pupils flickering with fun.

“G’night, doll.”

Had you just been rejected? It felt like it, because it stung real bad. You pressed your lips together and, without another word, you exited the car and ran to the safety of your flat.

You entered as silently as you could. You got to the restroom and changed your clothes ―or what remained of them― for your pyjama, throwing everything in the washer. Tiptoeing towards the bed, you saw your boyfriend sleeping on his side.

Guilt and embarrassment ate at you, but you kept them at bay. You were tired, only wanting to go to bed ― tomorrow would be a new day. Pushing those thoughts away, you slid under the bedsheets and stayed on your side of the bed.

A minute later, your boyfriend turned around and hugged your waist, spooning you.

“Hi, honey. Did you have fun tonight?”

His question stabbed at your heart.

“Yeah, it was good seeing the girls.”

You wouldn't believe how much fun I actually had, you thought out of nowhere.

“Mhmmm, good, good…”, one of his hands wrapped around your waist and coincidently rested on your lower belly.

You had felt his swollen groin against your butt but decided to ignore it because you were completely spent. Joel had taken all the orgasms you could have today ― you had nothing left to give.

But your boyfriend didn’t know that, so he dipped a hand under your pyjama’s shorts, looking for your slit. Then he found the tampon string and grunted.

“You’ve got your period?”, he asked, disappointed.

You hadn’t really forgotten to take it out. Weirdly enough, you still felt compelled to follow Officer Miller’s demands. You were going to leave it there till tomorrow's afternoon, his cum warming you up. You didn't want to let go of the memory, not just yet.

“Yeah, it came earlier, sorry, sweetie.” You lied ― and felt really bad for it.

He sighed heavily, disheartened, and removed his hand from in between your legs. “It's okay, good night, honey.” He kissed your neck.

You were ever so slightly disappointed in him ― you were sure a bit of blood would have not stopped Joel from fucking you.

Ah, comparison was really the thief of joy.

“Good night”, you whispered back, fully conscious of Joel’s cum sitting snugly inside your pussy.

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traumxrei-archive · 10 months ago

Text

【 ii. rose petal wounds 】

summary: from the confines of their study, yuu spots riddle doing an odd task— trimming roses in the garden. wait, why was riddle doing gardenwork…? was this another prank by floyd? either way, yuu had to find out.

word count: 1.2k

author’s note: idk if you can tell, but i absolutely love teasing riddle hehehe (also doesn’t dumple’s art of riddle look so cute ?)

[ the perfect debutante series | or read on ao3 (coming soon) ]

Distraction, it seemed, came in many shapes and forms. And for Yuu, it came in the color red. There was a flash of red in the corner of their vision. And they allowed themself to be distracted, their gaze following the color to their window.

Yuu was supposed to be putting together the final expenses list for the butler. But never mind what they were supposed to be doing.

What they saw beyond the window was far more interesting.

"Kalim?"

"Oh! Yes, master?"

"What is Riddle doing in the garden?"

Beyond their window was a view of the estate's garden. Part of the ball would be held there, amidst the rose bushes and fountains. And lo and behold, wading through the rose bushes with a pair of pruning scissors was...Riddle.

Riddle was Riddle. Prim and proper, befitting of the Roseheart name. Always ready to help straighten someone's apron at a moment's notice, with conduct and rules at the tip of his tongue.

He was also a bit naive and a lot stubborn, a combination that made it impossible for Yuu to guess why he was in the garden. Maybe it was another prank by Floyd. Or maybe it was his own bullheadedness leading him down another rabbit hole.

"Well," Kalim seemed to hesitate, his earrings jingling as he tilted his head closer. "Riddle told me not to tell you, but..."

"But...?" They prompted, trying to sound innocent to Kalim's ears. They were sure Kalim would let down his guard soon.

"But well...he wasn't satisfied with the roses in the garden!" Once Kalim started it was hard to get him to stop. "We were on a walk yesterday whilst Master was away— just checking on how the flow of the party would be, because that’s important, Riddle said— when Riddle found the rose bushes needed more...pruning."

They folded their arms, "What about the gardener?"

"The gardener...aha..." Kalim looked even more nervous now. "She stormed off after Riddle's questioning."

Ah. Now that was a problem indeed. Riddle wasn't the most unfriendly person, but his words came across as quite confident at times. Confidence and arrogance tread a thin line in the eyes of others, especially those who aren’t familiar with Riddle’s mannerisms. It was possible that the gardener got fed up with being questioned.

"Alright. I'll be taking a break in the gardens then," They brushed off their slacks, neatening their desk before standing. "When tea time arrives, please tell Ruggie to serve it in the garden."

"A picnic! Yes, Master!" They very gently patted Kalim's head, careful not to disturb the ribbon that they were sure Jamil worked hard to tie.

It wasn't very hard to make their way to the gardens. And it was easier still to find Riddle. The garden was empty save for the single maid wielding the shears with a vice, muttering to himself lightly.

"-unacceptable state," Riddle muttered as he snipped off some overgrown leaves, bending down to get a fallen rose. "Master wouldn't be happy about– ah–!"

Yuu's eyes widened at the sight of blood staining Riddle's glove red, and before they could think about it they had stepped forward, taking Riddle's wrist in their hand.

Riddle blinked, "M-Mas...ter?"

"Ah, it's getting on your apron," They tugged Riddle's hand closer, blood dripping onto the grass. "Does it hurt?"

Bewildered, Riddle shook his head, "It…stings."

"Slowly take off your glove, and sit down," They instructed, turning toward the house. "I'll get some bandages."

"Y-You shouldn’t!" Riddle's uninjured hand grabbed their sleeve. "It would be my failure as a proper maid if I made my Master do such a menial task.” Ah. Riddle's stubbornness tended to pop up at the most inconvenient times, it seemed.

Yuu sighed. When Riddle got like this, there was only one thing to do.

"Maid Rosehearts, I would like to treat your wound personally, as you were injured tending to my gardens," Yuu said with a smile. "I hope that you will listen to your Master's selfish wishes."

Riddle looked torn. There was an adorable frown on his face as he continued to think. His obedience to rules and courtesy made this trick handy for more than one occasion, and the outcome was always the same.

The maid finally opened his mouth, "...Of course, Master. Please do as you wish."

It didn't take Yuu long to get the bandages and disinfectant, especially after they ran into Jamil. (The longhaired maid sighed, "Was it Kalim or Silver this time?" They smiled sheepishly before answering, "Actually, it was Riddle." Even the ineffable Jamil had a hard time keeping his expression neutral when he heard that.) And it only took another moment to get back to the garden.

Riddle was sitting on the grass obediently, his back pin straight as they approached, "Welcome back, Master."

Yuu sat down and took his hand again, "Let's clean your hand first." They carefully used disinfectant to clean off the blood around the wound, before cleaning the wound itself. Riddle flinched slightly. It seemed that they should quicken their pace. They carefully wrapped his hand with the bandages.

"All done," They looked up to see Riddle staring. How long had he been looking this way? The red-haired maid immediately looked away with a cough. His cheeks tinted, and they vaguely wondered if it was due to the heat or embarrassment. Either way, it was a lovely look on the usually stern maid.

"Thank you, Master," Riddle bowed slightly, flexing his hand. "If I may ask, how did you know that I was here?"

"I was working when I saw you from my window," It wasn’t necessarily a lie. It was a white lie. They weren’t going to throw Kalim under the bus, since they did get effectively distracted by Riddle’s hair. "I also got these."

They dropped a pair of gardening gloves onto Riddle's lap, "Gardening...gloves?"

"If you want to keep pruning, I want you to do it safely. And besides," Yuu grinned as they pulled out another pair of gloves and shears. "I'll help you out this time."

"Master!" Riddle looked absolutely horrified at the thought. They almost chuckled. "You are going to inherit the Duke's title soon, you mustn't spend your time doing something so trivial as gardening!"

"Then what if I ask you to teach me?" Yuu said before they stood up, dancing away from where Riddle was trying to take their gloves. "As a way to broaden my horizons?"

Riddle huffed, brushing off his skirts and petticoats, ready to go after them, "A maid cannot teach their Master."

"I give you permission to," They waved over Riddle's shoulder. "Is it tea time already?"

Ruggie looked to be carrying a picnic basket, "We're getting to it, shishishi~"

Ruggie's laughter made Riddle sputter slightly, "T-Tea out here?"

"Riddle! Did you get hurt?" Kalim was also running toward them, his apron flying wildly behind him. It seemed that he had a tray of cakes in his hands. It was a wonder that none of them fell as he was running.

Riddle sighed, clearly defeated, "I am fine now. Master has tasked me with teaching them how to prune roses." Yuu beamed at Riddle’s cooperativeness. It seemed that Riddle had finally given in.

Ruggie spread a picnic blanket over the sunny ground, just as Kalim set down the cakes. And Riddle… He started on the tea. Tea was his specialty after all. They sat on the blanket next to Ruggie as they waited. There was a time for arguing over technicalities, and there was a time to serve. For now, they would look forward to Riddle’s tea.

thank you for reading ^^ if you’d like to read more, check out my masterlist ! like the art ? look at more of dumple's works on insta !

[ prev chapter | series post | next chapter ]

#/trau writes #riddle rosehearts #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #twst

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royallyprincesslilly · 2 years ago

Text

Title: A Little Fun With--- Alfie***

Words: 3.9k

Warning: Mild Cursing, NSFW, Fun, Crude Language, Mild C*m Play, Glove Free Lovin, Kink Talk/Play

Summary: Just a fictional assumption in a few categories of this beautiful man above. Of course, he's with you. So, self-insert. Yaay!

Note: So I am going to try something in sort of a headcanon format and see how it plays out. BTW this is how I write headcanons and it may be wrong. I don't care. I have a few of these for different celebs and characters I write for so look out for others. I've titled this the "A Little Fun With--- Series". Everything is standalone and each addition will be headlining someone new.

Note II: Stop by, tell me what you think. Is there a topic/category you would like me to add? I have a pretty big list already but lemme know I'm curious.

As always, thank you for reading!

If you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!❤❤

***NOT Edited/Proofread***

~~~~~~~~

Sensitivity?

His body isn’t all that sensitive as a whole but there are definitely parts that are.

For instance, his ears are one of his erogenous zones that will begin getting him in the mood.

His neck is also pretty sensitive to little nips of the teeth and sucking.

However when you touch his legs that really gets him going especially rubbing his thigh slowly. Doesn’t matter where you are or what time it is, he is ready to pounce on you.

So of course it’s something you take advantage of every single opportunity you get.

At home watching movies for the night of course your hand misses the popcorn bowl resting on both your thighs and you lay your hand atop his knee. He is focused on the movie, but that Sagittarius brain can focus on a few things at a time and your hand on his knee is one of them.

You’ll keep it there for a few moments to avoid suspicion and just when you think he’s not expecting it you will slide your hand higher along his thigh taking in the lean and tight muscles there.

No matter how interesting the movie is, you have his full attention now and you being the master of seduction know just what to do with said attention.

When you’re with him as his date to the BAFTAs and you’re seated next to him with him paying close attention to the presenters and winners trying to absorb everything he can, again he is a Sag, you place your hand gently on the middle of his thigh. It automatically flexes as he’s so attuned to your touch.

He’ll return the favor and place a strong possessive hand on your thigh under the table making sure his long slender fingers grip your fleshy inner thigh.

You will then inch your hand higher and higher until you feel his eyes beaming a hole into the side of your head because he’s caught on to your plan.

“Be careful, darling, I am not so British that I won’t drag you into the nearest bathroom to have my way with you.” That is his only warning as he squeezes your thigh letting you know he means every word.

Yeah, our cutie is sensitive alright.

Favorite Part Of You?

Oh boy, he is a sucker for your gorgeous face in whatever form you put it.

Little to no makeup? Loves it. He’ll always be leaning into you to whisper in your ear; “You’re so gorgeous. How’d I get so lucky?”

Face beat to perfection? He’s completely heart eyes and refuses to not touch you while out together. Though he is not obsessively possessive, he does like to stake his claim.

If you get too much male attention it doesn’t make him insecure though. He’s pretty secure in the fact that he knows you’re his.

Alfie is also a sucker for a great pair of legs. They don’t have to be long and lean. He just loves nice legs.

Moisturized, glistening, slim, doesn’t matter. However, he thoroughly believes thick thighs save lives.

Just as you know thigh touching turns him on and will do it just for the fuck of it, he will grab your thighs or feel on your legs just for the fuck of it too.

You could be out together in broad daylight in the middle of the park having a picnic and he’ll grab you by your thighs and pull you to him keeping his large hands on them. It’s his world.

Sitting taking a coffee or hot chocolate break while shopping in winter? Your thighs are the best spot for his hands to warm up and he’ll often push them through your crossed legs not caring who sees it.

Hips. Good heavens. The number of times his hands will grip your hips says more about him than you. He loves a set of great hips. He’s practically obsessed.

You will often watch as his eyes are glued to your hips when you reveal your lingerie for the night. You’ll peel it off torturously slow just to rile him up and make sure your hips are the very last thing you reveal.

“Bloody hell, love. I’m so hard for you. C’mere.” His voice is deep, accent thick, eyes hooded, and mouth half open.

His hands are on your hips before you even take two steps toward him.

The next morning, you wake up with plenty of marks along your thighs and hips, all his tokens of absolute loyalty to you.

This is a man who knows what he likes and takes it without fear. Sag is the Ram after all.

Bottom Or Top?

Depends on what his mood calls for. There are times when he loves and cannot say no to you on top so he can not only sit back and enjoy the sensations but also enjoy the show. Remember Sag is like a sponge they can soak multiple things up at once.

These times he finds himself getting lost in the roll of your body as you rock back and forth on him. He’s been known to get so enthralled with watching you that his pleasure increases tenfold and inevitably he cums sooner than expected.

Don’t fret that doesn’t mean he’s done though. Multiple rounds are a common thing in your house and because you know what buttons to push when you’re on top you like to see how long he’ll last.

“It’s all fun and games until 9 months from now you’re holding someone with my eyes, pretty girl.”

He thinks that’s a threat to you, but it only makes you more brazen and when you get wild like that it only fuels him to be freakier.

A lot of times Alfie likes to be on top, it doesn’t matter the particular position at all. If he’s on top, he’s plowing you raw no in between.

On top with you on your back? Fuck yes, he loves to watch the faces you make as he fills you to the hilt. He particularly loves it when your eyes roll to the back of your head in different directions.

On top with you on your knees? Say less. Backshots give him the chance to grip as tight as he wants to those hips of yours while watching your ass wave with each and every thrust.

“Your tight little cunt loves my cock, I can tell by how she squeezes me, love.”

Mans is just super obsessed with every inch of you.

Self-Lovin or No Self Lovin?

When you’re away or he’s away, Alfie is pretty restrained and able to push off the need for physical gratification for a good length of time. He’ll distract himself with other things like work, or reading, exploring, and things of that sort.

Before you he’d been known to go months and months without needing to hook up with anyone, and maybe 2 months without needing to jerk off. Since you, it’s a slightly different story.

If either of you are out of town it’s a nightly occurrence while you’re on video call with one another. It’s never planned or anything, it just always happens because he sees you, hears your voice and he wants you.

In the middle of him asking you about your day and you giving a detailed rundown you’ll notice his hand disappear and when you bring it to his attention he’ll give you that amazing double cheek dimpled grin that screams shy innocent schoolboy who’s just been caught doing something naughty.

“I’m sorry love, I didn’t even realize it. I was just listening to your voice, and I wanted you.”

“My voice? So you don’t even need to see any skin anymore?”

Hearing the tease in your voice he’ll begin openly stroking himself drawing your eyes to the motions of his large hand.

“Damn, I wish it was your hand.”

Seeing how tightly he’s gripping himself you take it as your cue to tempt him further. You’ll lower your robe so he sees your bare breasts then cup them so he can imagine his cock right between them.

"Fucking—so beautiful, love.”

It doesn’t take him long from there. His pants and whimpers fill the room as his hand jerks his cock faster and faster. You watch him come undone shooting stream after stream onto his bare abdomen.

If you’re together the only time he is jerking off is if you’re not feeling well enough to please him and if that happens he’ll go to take a shower, come back, and be back in control.

Again, a Sag through and through.

Quick Release or Duracell Battery?

Neither and both, if that makes sense. Remember how he is completely at your disposal because he’s so head over heels? You are his weakness so some nights and some positions he’s done in fifteen minutes but will re-up for round 2 of 10. Better believe that those 15 minutes will leave you hoarse and breathless though.

Alfie taps your ass as your face is down in the pillow still trying to catch your breath. “Come back here.”

“Wait baby, I need a minute.”

“You had two. I’m sure you have at least 4 more in you.” He’s tapping your ass again before he manually rises your hips bringing your ass up to him. Your face remains in the pillow.

“Mmm, such a gorgeous bum!” Alfie drops a heavy hand across it making you whimper and turn your head to the side.

“Don’t whimper love, I’ll give you what you want.”

Seconds later you’re feeling his lips between your legs bringing you back to life and just like that the start bell has rung for round 2.

Usually, you’re the one tapping out long before he’s fully satiated.

Lingerie or Costumes?

Oh, Alfie is all about the lingerie.

He thinks is versatile and can even serve as a costume.

He loves to just watch you walk around the house in loungewear that looks like lingerie. It’s become so normal that you don’t notice the way he watches you, but he notices you every time you are wearing something he likes.

So what does he like? It depends. If you’re lounging around the house he prefers sweet and innocent things with hints of sexiness.

Lace and frill usually always get his attention. Maybe it’s a sensory thing and Sags always using all their senses.

You’ll be cooking dinner in a cute but sexy matching two-piece set that is see-through showing him hints and peeks of your luscious skin and he’ll forget about whatever he’s doing and do it in the kitchen while you cook. He’s not there to keep you company, he’s there to be a perv and watch you lean over, bend over, squat down, reach high, and get splashes of water on yourself.

He thinks you don’t know but you do. Hello, no one needs to bend over to their toes to look inside the dishwasher every 5 or so minutes. No one.

If it’s a night of fun he likes things a lot sexier and more sensual.

Is it tight and fitted across your body? Good.

Does it showcase your killer curves and amazing assets? Thank heavens.

Is it in his favorite color or turquoise? Yes, please.

Is it strappy or has multiple pieces? Send—help!

The second he sees you in any of these you know he’ll control himself until the very last moment but be tortured the entire time.

He likes to watch your body move in it, likes to see you bend over for him. He’s known to snap straps against your skin because he likes the sound it makes.

For Alfie, lingerie is like an hors ‘d oeu vres before the appetizer and he loves to take part.

Quiet or Moaner?

This man is a moan stifler. He wants you to know how good you’re making him feel but in the same breath, he doesn’t want you to know because he knows you’ll just take the opportunity to go berserk on him.

Alfie will moan, pant, whisper your name and even grunt out explicatives letting his accent come through sporadically. Usually, he chooses other ways to let you know that you’re fucking him good.

His hands will roam and grip you never staying in one place too long.

The tighter his grip the more your kitty kat has him at dangerous levels of losing his shit.

However, he can try to remain as tight-lipped as he wants because when you hear him suck in a breath as if he’s just touched a hot pot and feels the instant pain you know you have him.

The sound is his tell and you’ve never told him that you know it.

You’re bouncing on top of him, back and body arched backward, hands planted just atop his knees with your head held back enjoying every sensation of his long shaft hitting you right where you want it.

When you begin grinding your hips that’s when you hear it; the sound is followed by a guttural but half-stifled groan. A mischievous smirk spreads your face as you up the ante and clench around him. That’s when you hear his whimper. The whimper of a man who has just let it slip that he’s begging you for mercy.

However, there is no mercy here. You won’t be satisfied until he’s shouting your name. It doesn’t take long before you finally hear it.

“Aah, yes, yes, baby, yes Y/N.” Each word is slightly higher pitched than the last. Alfie moans ending on a whimper as you milk him dry.

Try as he may, quiet is not an option with you.

Eater or Naw? Eating Style?

Wow, wow, wow! First of all, Sag loves oral pleasure. Receiving! Giving! He loves it and is in it to win it until you scream from it! And scream from it you do—on a daily.

Alfie loves to torture you with it too. He loves to go excruciatingly slow as if he is repainting the Mona Lisa with his tongue on your kat.

Eating you is no quick affair for him. It is not a spread, lick and done. It is an event, thee entire meal and adventure and he treats it like your pleasure is the most important thing to him. Bless his heart.

He’ll torture you with teasing licks, kisses, and nibbles across your inner thighs (the ones he loves so much).

Then he’ll pepper kisses across your cunt being sure to tell you just what he thinks of it.

“Such a pretty little cunt you have love.”

When he starts to use his tongue you’re soaking wet and shaking from anticipation. Just the way he likes you.

He doesn’t go for your clit like you want he traces your lips then frustrates you when he kisses your inner thighs again.

“For fuck’s sake put your lips on my pussy, now!”

Of course, he loves when you go feral, but he isn’t a cruel man. Once you’ve reached that point he shows some mercy and gives you what you want.

However, once you’ve cum all over his mouth he doesn’t stop. It’s his mission to make you cum again and again and get you to the point where you are begging him to fuck you from how sensitive you are.

His response to how much of a mess he’s made you?

“All you had to do was ask, love.”

The man gets a gold medal and an A in the sport.

Any Kinks?

DTF. DTF. DTF. Simply put? The man is down to fuck and explore any kink once. He is a man who likes to read, research and believes you never stop learning and likes to be well-rounded.

Don’t let his innocent face fool you. He can get into some wild stuff given the chance and the right partner. He believes pleasure is a good thing and everyone deserves it.

Since he is spontaneous his kinks can come out of nowhere.

You’re sitting in the park late at night enjoying the skyline view and he’s directing your hand to his crotch.

You’ll protest from shock of course. “We’re in the open.”

“So. No one is even here. Sit on my lap.”

You’ll look next to you a few feet away and see another couple sitting just like you watching the skyline. You’re thinking either he’s blind or insane. That’s when he’ll whisper in your ear.

“I want to make you cum right here, right now.”

You are wide-eyed and unsure of what has come over him. You try to convince him that they’ll hear you if he does that. His slow wicked smirk comes next.

“I know princess. I want them to hear you and know what we’re doing. I want them to know how well I’m fucking you. Now sit on my lap.”

Impossibly possible he’s made you soaking wet just from that sentence alone and sure enough in no time at all he’s making you cum as you screech his name through your clenched jaws and he’s staring right at the couple who has given you their undivided attention.

The man has no shame.

It’s a common practice for Alfie to whip out the cuffs or the rope to tie you to something because he loves being in control and seeing you tied up unable to move while he has free rein over your body and every aspect of your pleasure makes him harder than fire blown glass.

The night he surprised you with a brand-new sex swing was an unforgettable night that left you voiceless for two days.

Then the night he sat back and watched another man shamelessly flirt with you also was in your top unforgettable nights. It ended up with him pulling you into a dark corner and fucking you up against a wall with his hand around your throat. It was the night you realized your kinks aligned.

You went home and played around with a dom and sub scenario that even included him playing the sub once.

His freak flag flies high as well as his kink flag.

Where Does He Put It?

Since the 2nd-ish month of your relationship, you haven’t worn any condoms.

After you’d both been honest with each other about your pasts, been vulnerable with one another to declare your true intentions with one another, and gotten tested then there was really no reason in either of your minds.

You’d always been on BC for better menstrual management and that was now your primary means of protection.

So, Alfie is usually always finishing right where he likes—inside of you.

The first time he did it with your permission you noticed how much he’d cum. Then you noticed how mesmerized he was by it.

He was transfixed with thrusting in and out of you slowly to see his seed slowly seep out as he withdrew.

“Shiiit, that’s so hot.”

He’d continue dipping in and out of you while watching your combined fluids interact.

When he changed up and slammed into you and his cum dribbled out of you he would groan.

“Fuck, you look so good with me dripping out of you, love.”

The moment you realized he had some kink and was probably into cum play was when he pulled out and used his well-lubricated cock to flick across your swollen bud while painting himself all over your mound.

“It’s all mine. I marked it!”

How creative, right?

Piercings/Tats?

The only piercing he has is a small nose one from his younger years.

That doesn’t mean that he wouldn’t have gotten more if he wasn’t an actor.

You’ve openly discussed something small that the two of you could tattoo as a symbol of your love and loyalty to one another plenty of times and he is the one who shows more and more interest with every conversation.

“Would you put my name—right—there?”

Alfie is kneeling between your thighs with one of your legs arched atop his shoulder and the other relaxed back on the mattress. You are bare for his eyes. It’s a question that comes out of nowhere just as the ‘thwack’ of his long cock on top of your pubis comes out of nowhere.

“Why, you want to tag me up?”

Alfie’s smile is wide. He thrusts his hips forward and back in a slow motion that sends his shaft rubbing against your clit. “Hm, wanna see your name across this pussy, baby?”

That smile only gets wider and more dangerous and again out of nowhere he connects your bodies in one powerful buck of his hips. The stroke sends your head back into the pillow as you press your palm to his defined abs.

“Shit baby. Mmm!”

You quickly get lost in the pleasure he’s giving you and long moments pass before your eyes meet his again. You drop your hand and wrap it around his shift squeezing.

Alfie’s groan is strained but his thrusts remain relentless. Tightening your grip, your hand serves a similar purpose to a cock ring and the increased sensations make his hips stagger.

“You gonna put my name on this long dick babe? Gonna let me tag you up so it’s obvious that you have no future without me?”

A literal growl slips from his lips and in seconds he’s pressed your thighs wide and to the mattress. Beast mode initiated.

Yeah, tattoos could be fun.

Post-Coital Cuddler or Knocked Out?

Definitely into post-sex cuddles.

The usual positioning is you colliding into his side and laying your head on his shoulder.

He’ll instinctively wrap his arms around you cocooning you in his embrace.

It’s a good position because within minutes if the two of you are totally spent you’re fast asleep.

If not it leads to some silly post-sex teasing.

“Tell me again who was whimpering my name telling me to slow down?”

His Sag confidence is always coming out.

“I guess I learned how to whimper from the king of whimpering. Who is it that whimpers the most when they’re inside me?”

The teasing is fun and usually leads to another round where you’re silly together and laugh the entire time.

If on rare occasions there Alfie does knock out it’s when you’re on top and in your ‘finish him’ mood and show the fuck off. Those are the times you drain him ruthlessly without giving him any chance of recovery.

“Y/N, wait. Hang on.”

You’ll put his hands on your hips. “You can hang on to these 'cause I’m not stopping.”

The way he arches back and squeezes your hip you know he’s overstimulated. Still, you continue grinding your hips on him.

Even when you see the veins in his neck pop out you continue. It doesn’t take him long to rise to the occasion again.

After, in under 5 minutes he’ll be knocked out. It always leaves you proud as hell repeating Nicki Minaj’s lyrics. “Pussy put his ass to sleep now he callin’ me Nyquil.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wanna be tagged in the series? Lemme know. Send an ask.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TagList:

@caramara3 @chaneajoyyy @lovebittenbyevans @sonjashuterbugjohnson @mauvecherie-writes

#alfie enoch #alfred enoch #alfie enoch fanfiction #alfred enoch fanfiction #a little fun with series #a little fun with series 1 #a little fun with alfie

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storyofmychoices · 2 years ago

Text

Shadows and Deception: Parts V & VI

[Series Masterlist] [My Choices Masterlists]

Books: The Royal Romance (post-TRF), Crimes of Passion I, Desire & Decorum, Blades of Light and Shadow I

Characters: Trystan Thorne (M, no race mentioned), Marguerite Thorne, Olivia Nevrakis, Queen Amalas, Maxwell Beaumont, Daniel, King Liam (no race mentioned), Tyril Starfury, Nia Ellarious, Prince Hamid

Pairings: Olivia Nevrakis x Queen Amalas ; M!Trystan Thorne x (no gender given) MC (mentioned) ; King Liam x Riley (mentioned)

Rating/Warnings: Teen, mentions of blood, stab wound, knives/daggers (no graphic descriptions)

Word Count: Part V: ~500; Part VI: ~1,500 : total ~2,000

Summary: The murder weapon is found and it belongs to someone we know well. Are they guilty or are they being framed?

Catch Up: [Parts I and II] [Part III and IV]

V. --- In the Ballroom with the Dagger? (Clue inspired)

Trystan's eyes widened in discovery, a smile filling his face. He had become somewhat of a well-known detective back in New York, and he was happy to see his skills weren't going to waste on this little trip. "Over here," he shouted, calling the guards toward an ornate golden curtain drawn back to the side, allowing the haunting moonlight to pour into the ballroom. "It's just there," he directed, pushing the folds of the curtain open for them to see.

"It can't be." King Liam's face drained of color.

One of the guards carefully lifted out the concealed ornate silver dagger adorned with sapphires in the hilt.

The gaze of the room fell on the scarlet-haired Duchess.

Olivia scowled, rolling her eyes at the incompetence of those around her. It had to be a replica, “a bad one at that”, she snarked. "As if anyone could lift my dagger from me." She slipped her gown up her thigh, revealing an empty slot in her thigh sheath. "I—It can't—" she stuttered for perhaps the first time in her life. "That's not possible. No one could—"

"Olivia?" Liam approached cautiously. "What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything," she scowled, still trying to assess the situation. "I would never be so sloppy as to leave the murder weapon so visibly in the open where a wannabe Sherlock Holmes could find it. How did you find it so easily?"

“Elementary,” said he with a playful wink.

Her gaze narrowed suspiciously at him before shifting back to Liam. "Trust me, if I had killed him, you'd never know."

Despite her confident tone, Olivia's thoughts wandered. That was definitely her dagger, but no one could have lifted it from her, especially without her knowledge. The moment of confusion that flickered in her eyes turned to cold calculations as she analyzed the faces of everyone around, searching for that missing piece to put the entire puzzle together. She was being framed, but whoever was careless enough to make her a suspect must know that her wrath would find them. Sunrise might not come to all.

"I need you to come with me, Olivia," Liam said solemnly. His arm extended, ushering her forward with the guard.

"Of course," her voice resolute as she continued her own investigation with each step forward. Her gaze landed on a certain fashion designer—Princess of Drakovia, Marguerite Thorne. The subtle hint of a smile on her face as she watched closely, her fingers gliding across the smooth screen of her phone with only the occasional glance down. Could the rumors be true? Olivia would find out one way or another.

What Olivia failed to notice however was that she wasn't the sole object of the Princess's observation. There was someone else—someone far more captivating. It wasn't the look she had anticipated. She expected the Spy Queen's countenance to remain inscrutable, especially at this crucial moment. Yet, Marguerite saw it in her eyes; it was a familiar expression, one she had seen before. Interesting, she mused to herself, watching as Amalas’s fingers ever so slightly caressed her clutch, watching as Liam led Olivia away. Very interesting.

VI. Put two and two together... sometimes the answer's four... and sometimes it's twenty-two. (Nick Charles)

As the investigation into the murder mystery deepened, the ballroom buzzed with whispers and hushed conversations. The air crackled with tension, each suspect under the microscope of suspicion. A trail of clues emerged, casting suspicion not only on Olivia but also on a certain Drakovia princess, no stranger to deception and spying herself, as well as to the Priestess Nia, who first discovered the body.

Tyril placed a gentle hand on Nia's shoulder, approaching from behind.

Startled momentarily, the Priestess soon relaxed upon recognizing his familiar face. "It's you," she breathed more easily.

"Nia," Tyril began in a hushed tone, "I overheard a whisper among the guards. They mentioned that a strand of red hair was found beneath the body."

Nia's eyes widened in surprise. "Do they think it's mine?" Her voice tinged with concern. She quickly tried to reconcile it. "It must have fallen out when I found Daniel."

Tyril furrowed his brow, deep in thought. "It's peculiar," he mused. "They found the hair beneath the body. It seems unlikely that it fell from you at the time of the discovery."

Nia pondered for a moment longer, her expression shifting as she reached a new conclusion. "It's possible that it happened earlier when he served me a drink. The hair could have landed on his clothing and found its way under the body."

"Perhaps," Tyril considered. "Be careful, Nia. The Duchess seems to be hinting it came from you at the time of the murder."

Nia's voice rose in her defense, "What motive could I have? I could never hurt a life! I've never even stepped on an ant before!"

Tyril pulled her to the side, quieting her once more. "I believe you, Nia," he reassured her. His voice lowered to a soothing tone. "But we must remain cautious. Someone here in the palace is responsible, and we need to find out who. Stay away from the royals for now. We know how many secrets they hold."

Nia nodded a mixture of confusion and disbelief in her eyes. "Why would Olivia insist it's my hair, though? What would she accomplish with that?"

Tyril's gaze hardened, a spark of determination igniting within him. "That is indeed the question. We will uncover the truth, Nia, no matter what it takes."

Marguerite's gaze narrowed as she approached Trystan. She wasted no time in confronting her brother about the rumor she heard. "I heard you broke into the armory. Is it true?"

Trystan's gaze met hers in amusement. "My dear sister, you confuse me with Kaspar," he replied with a smirk. "Though, I suppose then it would have been the jewel room instead. Too bad he’s banned for stealing the Cordonia Golden Apple. He would have had fun tonight.”

"This is serious, Trystan!"

"Relax, Mags. Rose may have been giving me lessons on lock picking, and I must say, I've become quite proficient. But I've not left the ballroom all night. I trust the cameras will confirm as much."

Marguerite shook her head in confusion. "Then why would someone spread such a rumor?"

Trystan's smirk widened. "Perhaps they wanted to divert our attention from something else, or somewhere else."

"What are you talking about?"

"I still have the key to the truth hidden in my pocket." He tapped his jacket, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes.

"What are you talking about?" Marguerite pressed her hands to her hips, waiting for an explanation.

Trystan fished the silver trinket from his jacket pocket, holding it up for Marguerite to see.

"What is that? What’s it for?"

Trystan shrugged nonchalantly. "No idea," he replied, flipping the key in his hand with a flourish before returning it to his pocket. "But I have a feeling it's connected to what happened tonight.”

Her curiosity turned to suspicion. "Where did you get it?"

"Someone slipped it into my pocket earlier this evening," he confessed, his voice dripping with delight.

“And you didn’t catch them? You’re slipping.”

“On the contrary, I propose they’re that good. We’re not looking for an amateur,” he revealed proudly. "And now, my dear Mags, it's up to us to unravel its secrets."

"Where do you think it leads?"

"I recently learned that the staff secures their personal possessions in lockers outside of the kitchen... care to venture on a little side quest with me?"

Her lips pressed together in a Cheshire grin as she followed behind him, making sure the flash drive she had been hiding was tucked safely in her handbag out of sight of her curious brother.

Not satisfied with the rush to judge Nia or even the Duchess, Tyril continued his own investigation. He found himself conferring with Prince Hamid, considering him a reliable source and an upstanding citizen in search of the truth. They met in a secluded corner of the ballroom, away from prying eyes and eager ears.

Prince Hamid leaned in, his voice quieting, "I overheard an interesting theory. Some believe the evidence points towards Marguerite framing both Olivia and Trystan for their respective crimes. But the question in that became, what does she stand to gain from either murder? And could she truly be cunning and ruthless enough to manipulate her brother and fellow royal as pawns to some unseen end?"

Tyril’s lips pressed together in consideration. "The evidence is light on both accounts of murder. The Princess Marguerite may have secrets to hide, but I believe them to be unrelated to these crimes."

Prince Hamid nodded, his eyes glancing across the ballroom. "I share your sentiments. I would add that I also find Trystan to be without blame in this despite the accusations of his past. Trystan played a crucial role in bringing justice to the Heartache Killer. It stands to reason that he is invested in the truth. I see no cause to suspect him in this case."

As they spoke, they noticed Trystan's return to the ballroom, his presence catching their attention. The two exchanged a meaningful glance before setting off toward him, hoping he could shed further light on the events of the evening.

The pair approached the exiled Prince, their eyes filled with anticipation and determination. Trystan, happy to formally make their acquaintance, listened with great interest to what they had observed. Tyril and Prince Hamid shared their thoughts, suspicions, and what they had overheard, hoping that Trystan would reciprocate with findings of his own.

"Not here." Trystan glanced around the room, carefully studying the locations of the cameras. After a moment of contemplation, he guided them behind a large pillar, confident that it would provide enough cover to discuss their discoveries without being noticed.

"Earlier this evening, someone slipped a key into my pocket," Trystan admitted in hushed tones. "Not long ago, I concluded it may open Daniel's locker."

"Is that from where you are returning?" Tyril asked.

"Yes."

"From the look of exhilaration in your countenance, I trust your search was fruitful," Prince Hamid posed.

Trystan smirked, carefully revealing a handful of coded correspondences.

The three men analyzed the documents hoping to find a clue.

Prince Hamid drew a page closer to his nose, recognizing a faint citrus scent emanating from the corner of the documents. "Could it be?" He hummed to himself. Acting on a hunch, he brought the bottom edge of one of the letters close to his lips and exhaled softly, applying heat to the paper.

A faint illustration of a brown squid flickered to life before their eyes, only to disappear as Prince Hamid pulled back. "Invisible ink," he concluded. “Lemon juice, most likely.”

Before they could delve deeper into their speculations as to the meaning of the latest revelation, Trystan's phone chimed with a notification, indicating that a video had finished downloading.

“Perfect timing!” He held up his phone for his newfound partners to see. "Maybe this will shed some light on the mystery," he announced with more than a hint of excitement. "I asked a friend of mine back in New York to hack into the surveillance feed for the camera closest to Daniel. Shall we put this mystery to rest and catch a glimpse of the killer?"

The trio waited with bated breath as the video played, revealing a shadowy figure lurking in the back moments before Daniel entered the frame. With lightning precision, the figure concealed by a dark cloak moved toward the waiter and retreated just as quickly. The murderer's identity may have remained concealed but their size and stature hinted at just one thing, a woman had been the culprit of this heinous act.

As the footage concluded, Tyril couldn't help but notice someone lingering on the other side of the column, partially concealed from view. He strained to catch a glimpse, but when he turned to inspect further, they were nowhere to be found. With only a glimpse of their features, he couldn't be sure, but he thought he had seen Queen Amalas.

[Continue...]

Thanks for reading! I hope you are enjoying the mystery. What do you make of all of the new clues that seem to be arising? What could it mean?

Find out tomorrow when the last section of the story is released.

Giveaway Information: complete details here

3 winners will be chose for minimalist portraits with @bayleedrawsx

Any one who comments on or reblogs with a comment with their theories, thoughts, ideas, ect. on any and all sections of the story will be entered in the giveaway. (1 entry per section)

Prompts: For @choicesbookclub COP ; @choicesmonthlychallenge Private Investigator Event

Special thanks: to JenBeaumontJones (IG) for beta reading

#playchoices #choices game #the royal romance #blades of light and shadow #crimes of passion #desire & decorum #choices fan fiction #tyril starfury #trystan thorne #marguerite thorne #nia ellarious #maxwell beaumont #olivia nevrakis #queen amalas #prince hamid #lovealexhunt #choices book club

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gascon-en-exil · 8 months ago

Note

Could you do 2 and 3 for the ask meme? What about 37?

2. Is there a trope you’ve yet to try your hand at, but really want to?

Not exactly a trope, but I'd like to branch out from the semi-canon-compliant work I've been mostly sticking to in my first fic. I feel like the later chapters, which are mostly set after the story canon has all wrapped up, are where I got to be among the most creative in terms of ideas and with what I actually wanted to see from these characters.

That's a big reason that I think that I might actually be able to follow up on this and turn it into a series, now that I've laid the groundwork for where and how this continuity does and does not adhere to canon. That's been fun on a meta level, as a (hopefully subtle?) way of working through issues I have with Octopath Traveler II's story aside from just writing meta about it like I would with Fire Emblem or most other properties, but eventually those issues run out and one is left looking at these characters and wondering where they should go next.

3. Is there a trope you wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole?

Omegaverse springs to mind. I can understand the appeal of it intellectually, in part thanks to @theeeveetamer who writes Omegaverse and talks about it regularly, but I've determined that it's not really for me. If you know anything about some of my other interests you'd think it might be...but nope. It might be a bit distasteful to pull my - as someone once derisively described it, specifically referencing me - "man in fandom" card, but I think a big part of my indifference to Omegaverse is that I do have an unfair advantage over many readers and writers in M/M erotic fic spaces. I'm actually gay and have quite a lot of sexual experience to draw on because of my offline work, which happens to align closely with the standard profile of (cis) gay smut in transformative fandom. As such I always look at Omegaverse and find myself thinking about comparatively more mundane kinks that accomplish the same goals, kinks that can fit more readily into a variety of fictional contexts and don't require a hyper-specific AU to function.

That said, I do find many of the common arguments against Omegaverse - that it replicates heteronormative dynamics, that it's adjacent to bestiality - to be quite dumb and not worth entertaining. Even when kinks aren't to my taste, I don't see much point in judging them.

37. Talk about your current wips.

I appreciate that you separated this one, anon, because it's one of those that's pretty awkward for me to answer at the moment. The fic I'm working on is only a WIP publicly at this point; I finished it around the time I posted the first chapter, and have only been making edits intermittently since then because I've been told that staggering chapters is better for engagement. Still, it's what I've got - so let's go with that.

Putting this story together and publishing it have certainly been interesting experiences, and I've gotten some positive feedback from the approximately ten other people who ship Osvald/Partitio. Part of me is annoyed that I chose to start writing for a rare pair in such a small fandom as OT2, and that I didn't start out with something like Dimidue or Ferdibert instead...but FE's settings just don't speak to me in the same way. (Also, back when Houses was the hot new thing I was writing meta and fending off fan wank, and later getting a feel for YouTube, so I was quite busy elsewhere.)

I discovered pretty quickly that I have two preferred modes when writing fic. The first is the same sort of meandering, almost fairytale-esque disassociated narrator voice like what you'd find in my ship meta that actually verge on short fics themselves, ex. my attempt at building the crack ship Diarmuid/Tristan. The second is dialogue, to the point that for several scenes, particularly later in the fic, I sometimes felt as though I were writing a play. I'm not great with action scenes, which is one reason I skipped over most of the ones that had to be worked around in canon. I did come up with a rather cheeky way to nod toward that in the epilogue...though whether anyone else finds it funny remains to be seen.

But yes - it's been educational, and I am now firmly in rare pair hell. There's an entertaining spitefulness to it: that while YouTube's algorithm has pushed me into being a dedicated FETuber with only the occasional vanity project on the side, over on Archive Of Our Own I'm becoming known for my work in a completely different fandom.

#Ask meme #Octopath Traveler II #Osvald/Partitio #Fire Emblem #Fanfiction discourse

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haarrrys · 3 years ago

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II SP3NC3R R3!D M@ST3RL!ST?!%

MORE M@ST3RL!STs ↖︎ HERE

← my first spencer masterlist!

⌗fluff !

*obsessed - ⌗ summary : aria is a senior in college who attends an informational seminar that Spencer and Rossi put on, and chases them down afterwards to talk to them about the BAU

treat people with kindness - ⌗ summary : garcia gets Reid into harry styles and everyone subsequently loses their minds over it. (my fav crossover) ♥︎

supposed to be sleeping. - ⌗ summary : SPOILERS FOR SEASON TWO Hotch sends you and Spencer to the hotel with explicit instructions to get some sleep and come back to the local police station in the morning. You can’t sleep, however, and you two get to talking about why the case bothers you so much.

& towels & aloe - ⌗ summary : while you and spencer are on a beach vacation, you get sunburnt, and spencer insists on taking care of you.

*absence of rain - ⌗ summary : Y/N Y/L/N meets a stranger in the rain

*cross words - ⌗ summary : spence being a cheesy fuck. “you know, she's the only one who calls me ‘spence’?”

*moments - ⌗ summary : the pivotal moments in your relationship that have all lead to this point.

*comfort & touch - ⌗ summary : I’ve been thinking about this picture. yeah, that’s the summary.

*secret girlfriend - ⌗ summary : y/n – spencer’s secret girlfriend – picks up her dishevelled boyfriend from the airport.

*lets make history together - ⌗ summary : summary: jj gets a call from henry's teacher about him acting out and now he’s demanding to talk to his uncle spencer. turns out, henry won't be the only one learning how to get the girl.

*bridge the gap - ⌗ summary : after dinner turns into talk about children, reader starts to panic that their older boyfriend spencer will not want to wait for them to be ready. he reassures them that this couldn’t be further from the truth. (a little angst?)

*spencers secret - ⌗ summary : in which spencer doesn't answer his phone and the team goes to check on him and an unfamiliar person answers the door

*poetic confessions- ⌗ summary : an over-artistic imagine of how spencer reid would confess

*impromptu - ⌗ summary : spencer gets taken on a surprise, unplanned trip with his two favorite people trying to cheer him up.

*me before you - ⌗ summary : when he dies, the last thing he expects is to meet his soulmate in heaven. (soulmate!AU, major character death.. obvi)

*brown - ⌗ summary : you slowly fall in love with everything that revolves around the amazing spencer reid, especially the color brown.

*valentines day suprise - ⌗ summary : honestly idek

*49% - ⌗ summary : If there’s one thing that Spencer hates more than rejection, it’s spontaneity. but sometimes the things (and people) we love outweigh the things that we hate. AKA a series of events leading up to a weekend wedding between the BAU’s finest dr. spencer reid and his partner in crime, Y/N.

*not so secret admirer - ⌗ summary : spencer can’t deny the fact that he’s dating someone after a bouquet arrives at the b.a.u.

*long long lost sibling

⌗angst !

*notice me - ⌗ summary : a killer leaves reid’s girlfriend on the steps of the BAU with a message for hotch and the team. spencer’s judgement is clouded and it seems that the killer isn’t finished with you. & pt ii, pay attention. - ⌗ summary : with a new body, the team is sure that the reader’s attacker is the unsub they’re looking for. He, however, is looking for them too.

& if i go im going - ⌗ summary : with the reader’s funeral just days away, the team worries about reid. spencer struggles to cope and finds himself going to places he remembers being with you.

*unreciprocated feelings - ⌗ summary : unreciprocated feelings was not a uncommon one for Spencer Reid. He faced it regarding many things, like friends, and how much he cared for certain parents. All of his life he dealt with it, each time hurting the same.

*distance - ⌗ summary : about two years after Y/N gets transferred across the country, the team comes by for a long-overdue visit. ( a little fluff too? )

*waiting on the right thing - ⌗ summary : reader's worst nightmare has come true. not only does she find out her crush/best friend has a girlfriend, but that he's requesting his best friend's help in how to propose to her.

*i would love you forever - ⌗ summary : you and spencer wanted a normal day at the grocery store. instead, you got a hostage situation.

*trust the magic of beginnings - ⌗ summary : canon-typical violence, weapons, blood, injuries, death, crime, hostages, mental illness, talks of suicide (unsub), injury while pregnant, pregnancy, let me know if I missed anything

*heartbeat - ⌗ summary : for seven months y/n, the newest team member of the BAU, has been missing, kidnapped by an unsub they were hunting. but when the search comes to an end, spencer doesn't know how to feel.

*letting go - ⌗ summary : spencer’s conflicting feelings for you and another is not something new. will he let you go for her?

*all his fault - ⌗ summary : things are not always meant to be, and reader, as much as it hurts her, knows that.

*crush(ed) - ⌗ summary : being in love with the girl one of your best friends is hooking up with was a feeling spencer never thought would go away.

& reading in between the lines - ⌗ summary : spencer’s panicked when he misinterprets a relationship term to mean something terrible.

*I told you so - ⌗ summary : reid x sister fic where the reader gets a boyfriend and spencer doesn’t like him. it turns out the boyfriend is an unsub.

*mothers care - ⌗ summary : summary: spencer leaves his mother in y/n’s care, but with her violent outbursts she severely injures y/n ♥︎

*risks - ⌗ summary : summary: spencer x reader x BAU, where they are dating the reader younger than spencer, but just as smart and very loved by the team. one day she has to save the team from an unsub and gets really hurt and after everyone is safe they are all really worried about her

*forever winter - ⌗ summary: after tobias hankel, reader can see their boyfriend struggling and reminds him that love means supporting him through the harshest of winters.

*the daisy and the bee - ⌗ summary : reader is a serial killer and spencer might be into her. ♥︎

*don't go breaking my heart pt i - ⌗ summary : the fight between spencer and his girlfriend leaves him acting differently during the teams case, he doesn’t think they have a chance until a call comes in. ♥︎

*erotomania - ⌗ summary : spencer discovers that his girlfriend has a stalker

*cupid and psyche - ⌗ summary : reader and spencer get kidnapped by a rather romantic matchmaking unsub who demands they perform for him.

*rib cage - ⌗ summary : spencer realizes reader is the one, but it might be too late. he has to find her.

*countdown - ⌗ summary : you couldn't move, you couldn't breathe, the world was giving up on you (or was it the other way around?). You had to keep fighting. If there's one thing you are sure of is that they would find you. He would find you. You just didn't know how much longer you could take until then.

*better man - ⌗ summary : in which Reader and Spencer realize recovery isn't linear, and comfort ensues.

⌗smut !

*circles and squiggly lines - ⌗ summary : spencer comes back from a bad case, and he and Y/N take some time for themselves to wind down and connect with each other...

no title but it's smut ok? - ⌗ summary : multiple mentions of sex, making out/hickeys, unprotected sex, penetrative sex

*missing you - ⌗ summary : y/n gets creative in her attempts to convince spencer to get a phone from this century

& the (kinda) pt. ii, up in the air

*out of commison - ⌗ summary : after being severely injured on a case, reader needs to take it easy, and she finds a creative way for Spencer to make her feel better.

high time - ⌗ summary : spencer calls reader to see if he can come over, but she’s already having her own fun and suggests something... out of the box.

*sharing - ⌗ summary : spencer and reader are together but he doesn't mind sharing her with morgan

*curiosity killed the cat - ⌗ summary : SMUT (Penetration, oral (female recieving), spanking, over-stimulation, choking, degrading kink)

*only hands - ⌗ summary : spencer’s neighbor happens to believe he has the best hands in the world. one night, she asks if she can feature them on her only fans page

*squirt - ⌗ summary : fingering, squirting, sub!spencer, softdom!reader (BLURB)

*friends without benefits - ⌗ summary : falling in love with your best friend (when you weren’t supposed to) can be quite a bitch.

*this- ⌗ summary : spencer notices how your boyfriend takes advantage of you and finally does something about it.

*honestly I don't feel guilty - ⌗ summary : cheating and implied sex

r&r - ⌗ summary : curiosity killed the cat, but in this case, it leads to the best pussy he's ever had

*new and exciting - ⌗ summary : spencer x reader smut where it’s spencer’s first time

*remeber me - ⌗ summary : spencer remembers lots of things but he manages to forget the day of love. however, he has a great way of making it up to his girlfriend.

*nsfw alphabet - ⌗ summary : pretty self explanatory, a little self promo for me.

*morning glory - ⌗ summary : spencer goes into way too much detail about nocturnal penile tumescence (or morning wood or whatever colloquialism you prefer).

⌗dad!spence !

*different kind of talk - ⌗ summary : you decided early on in the pregnancy with spencer that the best way for you to protect your child was to be open and honest, and that includes being open and honest about sex.

*pure-bliss - ⌗ summary : y/n and spencer manage family life (fem/reader)

*splish splash - ⌗ summary : a pool day with the team and you and spencer’s daughter. (Season 1 Cast)

*what makes you a parent - ⌗ summary : It's the eigtht anniversary since Spencer's daughter went missing. all hope is lost but he still tries to power through the case. can it bring him the consolation he needs?

*what should've been - ⌗ summary : spencer wanted a family. y/n didn’t. now, she has a child, and spencer can’t help but feel overwhelmed.

*unexpected - ⌗ summary : spencer is working towards joining the bau, y/n is a college student, and they have an unexpected (but exciting) suprise

*discussing kids - ⌗ summary : headcan of discussing kids with spence

*teenage heartbreak - ⌗ summary : spencer had to bluff his way around helping his daughter through her first heartbreak.

*what's in a name - ⌗ summary : spencer accidentally gets misidentified by a little kid whose mom means the world to him ♥︎

⌗series !

*off the deep end pt ii pt iii pt iiii by @reminiscing-writer - ⌗ summary : man idek.. kidnapping, angst, yea

⌗masterlist !

@reminiscing-writer 's masterlist

@spencersstrawberryjello 's masterlist

@differentkettleoffishalltogether 's masterlist

@shemarmooresfedora 's masterlist

@reidselle 's dad!reid x reader masterlist

@frost-queen 's masterlist

@ofwilliamandwalter 's masterlist

@boldlyvoid 's masterlist

@moreidsdaughter 's 800 follower fic rec list

@boldlyvoid 's first times masterlist

@sunlitspence 's masterlist

@rachelwritestuff 's masterlist

@reidselle 's reid x reader heartbreak masterlist

@there-must-be-a-lock 's masterlist

@gizmo-writes ‘s masterlist

@dreamsontheirway ‘s masterlist

@pastanest ‘s masterlist

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer x kidnapped reader #virgin spencer #spencer reid masterlist #criminalminds #dad!spencer #dad!reid #derek morgan #criminal minds masterlist #haarrrys

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peonierose · 2 years ago

Text

Once (2/5)

Book: The Nanny Affair & Open Heart Crossover / AU

**This story takes place before it was revealed that Addison would come back/is alive **

Part II of IV / Miniseries

Pairing: Sam Dalton (M!MC) x Addison Dalton (F!MC)

Words: 600+

TW: Illness, cancer, mental health

Rating: Angst

Summary: Addison has stage four ovarian cancer. So Sam and Addi seek a consultation with Dr. Ethan Ramsey at Edenbrook. Will they make it in time?

A/N: I wrote this story in October 2021 and I haven’t even realized my anger, grief and all my sad emotions made it into this mini series. This is for a good friend of mine her name was Mira. She was a bright star that unfortunately lost her fight against ovarian cancer on Dec, 19th. 2019. She was a true fighter, a genuinely nice person. We love you Mira. And you will always stay with us. No matter what happens. Mira this is for you. Because you deserve everything good in this world. Because you went away too soon. In honor and in memory for our dear friend Mira 💚

P.S. Here’s a list of songs I was inspired by give it a listen it you want 😊

———————————————————

'Cause you brought out the best of me

A part of me I'd never seen

You took my soul wiped it clean

Our love was made for movie screens

Kodaline - All I want

———————————————————

Part II

Addison should be home by now. How long does it take you to use the subway to get home? I’m impatiently tapping my foot against the carpeted floor, as if that would make her appear faster.

I’m chewing on my bottom lip and start pacing from one end of the of the room to another wearing a path in the carpet. Wanting my phone to signal me there’s a new message or that I missed a call.

I tried calling her, but figured she had bad service.

Tried again.

Nothing. Straight to voicemail.

No new text messages and no calls either.

Worry is settling in. Twisting my stomach in knots.

Making me imagine the worst-case scenarios in my head. My mind spinning with things that could’ve happened. I let out a long breath. So consumed with my thoughts I almost didn’t hear my phone ring. It takes a second to register.

“Addi? Where are you. Look I…“ I get interrupted by a female voice that I don’t recognize on the other end.

“Mr. Dalton?“ the female voice asks.

“Speaking.“ I swear to god, if this is one of Robins pranks again, I’m going to give him a piece of my mind.

“I’m Dr. Delarosa you had an appointment scheduled for a consultation today.“

“Of course. Sorry for not connecting the dots immediately. What can I do for you.“ I exhale on a nervous breath waiting for her reply.

“Your consultation is not the reason I’m calling Mr. Dalton.“

My stomach plummets to my feet, my hearts racing and my palms start to get sweaty. Making it difficult to hold the phone in my hand.

“Please tell me, what’s going on?“ I say while goosebumps break out all over my skin.

She sighs on the other end. All thoughts coming to a standstill. All I can think about is Addison. I can’t lose her. Please not like this.

“There’s been a subway accident. Your wife was rushed to the ER….“ she keeps on talking, it’s as if I haven’t even heard her.

My blood runs cold. All I can hear is the word accident. My knees almost give out under me. My pulse is hammering in my chest, and all I can think is I need to get to her right now.

“How severe are her injuries?“ I ask. While there’s a storm of raging emotions swirling inside of me.

I hear some rustling of papers then Dr. Delarosa is on the line again.

“According to her chart, she sustained severe head trauma and internal bleeding, and lost a lot of blood. She’s already in the OR.“

I’m putting on shoes not even bothering to take a jacket with me. Already getting out the door. Not caring about anything. I just want to be there, before it’s too late.

“You already started? But…“

Dr. Delarosa speaks in a gentle voice which I recognize is used to soothe someones nerves. As a doctor she’s probably had to do that many times. But it never gets easier.

“We didn’t have the luxury of time Mr. Dalton. We had to start immediately. Otherwise..“

Otherwise she would already be dead. I close my eyes for a second, letting out a ragged breath. I cannot lose it right now. It’s not an option. Get your shit together Sam. You can break down and cry later. Now you’ve got to be strong for Addi.

“Thank you Dr. Delarosa. I’m on my way,“ I say.

“We’re doing everything we can. She’s in very good hands.“

Meaning they don’t know if she’s going to make it or not. Not wanting to take away hope. Still doing their best.

With those final words she hangs up. I stare at the phone. Speechless.

I order an uber and tell the guy to step on it. I arrive at the hospital and get out.

I try to move but it’s like my feet are frozen to the ground. Thinking about what to do. While a million memories are going through my head in warp speed. I start running towards the hospital.

I swallow down. I have to be strong for her now. Everything else can wait.

Perma tags:

@annieruok94

@potionsprefect

@secretaryunpaid

@karahalloway

@cariantha

@aallotarenunelma

@planet-alicorn

@mysticalgalaxysstuff

@ofmischiefandmedicine

@socalwriterbee

@jerzwriter

@princess-geek

@inlocusmads

@genevievemd

@jamespotterthefirst

@the-mrsreigns

@txemrn

@quixoticdreamer16

@starrystarrytrouble

@annfg8

@openheartforeverinmyheart

@doriopenheart

@issabees

The Nanny Affair:

@sfb123

Other tags:

@choicesficwriterscreations

@openheartfanfics

@thenannyaffair-fanfics

#The Nanny Affair #Once #Sam Dalton #Addison Dalton #cfwc #tnaffs

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skipps-writes-for-gojo-satoru · 4 years ago

Text

Updated 24/6/2021

∞ Oneshots/Scenarios

Trying to wake him but only to be cuddled

Gojo & S/O take Megumi as their son

S/O not used to compliments

Taking pictures of his S/O

S/O Insecure of their relationship

Sees his eyes for the first time

S/O who’s having an anxiety attack

S/O wiping Gojo’s kiss

Gojo wiping S/O’s kiss

Comforting a sad S/O after a mission

S/O wears Gojo’s shirt

S/O makes Gojo eat spicy food

S/O who helps Gojo (MANGA SPOILERS)

Comforting a sad S/O

Comforting a sad S/O 2

Ex to Lovers

Reader most romantic confession

Gojo’s Birthday Fic 2020

Comforting stressed S/O

Geto kidnapping Wife!Reader

Dog!Gojo Satoru x Reader

Comforting childhood bestfriend

Husband material

Flower giving

If only I had somewhere to sit

Mommy kissing Santa Claus

Comforting Gojo

Gojo having a nightmare

Cheering up his S/O

Gojo making reader laugh in a meeting

Clingy in the morning

In the shower

One of These Nights

From Behind

Gojo caught crying

A Taste?

Early Mornings

Gojo & the twins wanting another baby I

Gojo & the twins wanting another baby II

A Promise

Reader getting her period and Gojo notices

Lazy & Affectionate

Telling him you’re pregnant

The Gojo twins visiting Jujutsu HIgh

∞ Headcanons

Engagement Headcanons

Chubby S/O

Gojo turned into a child

F!Short & Strong S/O

Newborn curse reader

Curious childlike reader

S/O who is good at hand to hand combat

Cuddling Headcanons

Pregnancy Headcanons

Reader afraid of rejection

Tall & Strong Cursed Spirit

Suicidal Reader

Long haired reader

Big sister reader

Affectionate S/O

Celebrate reader’s birthday

Toxic lover

What does Gojo Satoru smell like?

Working out

Type of girl Gojo would fall for

Pregnant reader wants to decorate for Christmas

Gojo wanting a baby

Gojo trying to make stotic!reader smile

Gojo Twins #1

M!Strong & Short S/O

S/O memory loss

Popular F!Reader

S/O turns into a child

Shy S/O

S/O protects Gojo

Clumsy S/O

Day off with Gojo

Shopping with Gojo

Valentine’s Day

Insecure skinny S/O

Gojo x Idol!Reader

Agrument with his S/O

Merman!Gojo

∞Skipps Imagines

Why?

My Everything

A Moment

Afternoon Naps

I’ll be here

∞Random Gojou Satoru Headcanons Series

1 2 3

∞ SFW Alphabet

SFW Satoru Gojo Edition

∞ Prompt Event

Fluff # 12 “Could you say that again?” “Were you listening?” “No I was, I just like hearing your voice”

Fluff prompt #26 “You’re really warm.”

Fluff Prompt # 1 “Is that my shirt?” “You mean our shirt?”

Fluff Prompt # 44 “You’re an idiot.” “But I am your idiot.”

Fluff Prompt #19 “ You know, I think my (mother/father/parents) would be proud if I brought (you/him/her/them) home.”

Fluff Prompt #18 “You come here often?” “Well considering I work here, yes” #27 “Are you blushing?”

Fluff Prompt #4 “Kiss me.” & #13 “ I didn’t think it was possible to love someone this much.”

Fluff Prompt #7 “You’re an idiot.” “But you love me.”

Fluff Prompt #10 “Stop moving and let me braid your hair!”

Fluff Prompt #39 “You’re safe now, I’m here.”

Fluff Prompt #9 “You took all the pillows so I’m using you as one.” #26 “You’re really warm.”

Fluff Prompt #31 “I’m never gonna to leave you. I promise” #44 “You’re an idiot. But I am your idiot.”

Fluff Prompt #4 “Kiss me” and General Prompt #17 “Are you jealous?”

Fluff Prompt #30 “I’ve been in-love with you since we were kids.”

Fluff Prompt #16 “Can you just please hold me ?”

Fluff Prompt #7 “ You’re an idiot.” “But you love me.” General #17 “Are you jealous?”

General prompt #46&#48 “Are they really just a "friend”? “I won’t hurt you”

General Prompt #2 “It’s pouring rain, why are you here?” #50 “I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

General Prompt 17 “Are you jealous?”

General Prompt #17 “Are you jealous?” & #25 “She doesn’t belong with him!” “Than who does she belong with?” “with me…”

Angst prompt # 28 “Move out of my way before I make you”

Angst Prompt #12 “Maybe they were right, you never did change.” & #14 “ Don’t you dare walk away from this!”

Angst Prompt #21 “It’s (her,him,they), isn’t it?” & #36 “They warned me about this.” “About what?” “You.”

Angst Prompt #6 “You’re lying to me again. Why can’t you just tell me the truth for once?"

Angst Prompt #47 “ You deserve so much better.” #48 “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t leave.”

Angst Prompt “If you love me please let me go, please…”

∞ Winter Prompt Event

Winter Prompt #1 “What do you mean we’re out of hot chocolate?”

Winter Prompt #2 (Cuddling by the fireplace)

Winter Prompt #13 “Your hands are freezing!”

Winter Prompt #14 “ Aren’t you cold like that?”

Winter Prompt #17 (watching movies under a pile of blankets)

Winter Prompt #18 (snowball fight)

Winter Prompt #22 (kissing in the snow)

Winter Prompt #32 “There’s no way I’m letting you spend Christmas alone.”

Winter Prompt #37 (stuck in a snow storm)

Winter Prompt #38 “ You’re under the mistletoe so stop stalling and just kiss.”

Winter Prompt #43 “What do you mean Santa’s not real?”

Winter Prompt #50 “Those were for Santa!”

Winter Prompt #54 (Winter power outage) Gojo Satoru Edition

Winter Prompt #56 “Shhhh, don’t tell her/him!”

Winter Prompt #60 “I feel like there’s more frosting on you than on the gingerbread.”

Winter Prompt #10 “Where did all this mistletoe come from?” #61 “What are you doing with that mistletoe-oh.” #64 “I guess… this is when we kiss?”

Winter Prompt #65 “No, we’re not getting a puppy for Christmas. Stop. Asking.”

Winter Prompt #66 “ You don’t put marshmallows in your hot chocolate? YOU HEATHEN”

Winter Prompt #68 (Winter Proposal)

Winter Prompt #70 “You’re perfectly welcome to kiss whoever you wa-”

Winter Prompt #72 “Did everyone else come with a date?”

∞Smut Prompt Event (1k Followers Event)

Smut Prompt #21 “You’re bigger than I expected.”

Smut Prompt #54 “ You’re going to regret that, sweetheart.”

Smut Prompt #55 “Were you dreaming about me again?”

Smut Prompt #1 “We’re in public, you know.”

Smut Prompt #3 “Can you help me with this zipper?”

Smut Prompt #28 “Oh god, how can you manage to switch from cute to sexy in under a second?”

Smut Prompt #53 “What do you mean not yet? You can’t expect me not to cum when you’re fucking me so good!”

Smut Prompt #16 “Forget the bed. Let’s fuck right here.”

Smut Prompt #11 “You’re really gonna make me beg for it?”

Smut Prompt #5 “Are you trying to turn me on right now? Because it’s working.”

Smut Prompt #44 “If I have to pull over, you won’t be able to walk for the next week.”

Smut Prompt #46 “You’re not allowed to cum without my permission.”

Smut Prompt #6 “I’d hold on to something it I were you.”

Smut Prompt #27 “Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just pleased to see me?”

Smut Prompt #42 “I know for a fact you’re a lot louder than that.”

Smut Prompt #41 “I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you forget you ever even met that asshole.”

Smut Prompt #39 “ Angel in the streets, freak in the sheets.”

Smut Prompt #15 “Try to keep quiet. We don’t want to get caught.”

Smut Prompt #48 “Holy shit, you’re so fucking sexy like that.”

∞Physical Affection Prompt

Physical Affection Prompt #11 (Back hugs)

Physical Affection Prompt #1 (Pats on the head)

Physical Affection Prompt #9 (Wiping away their tears)

Physical Affection Prompt #18 (Wiping food away from their lips)

Physical Affection Prompt #23 (A hug some might consider too long)

Physical Affection Prompt #7 (Squishing their cheeks)

Physical Affection Prompt #8 (Brushing hands by accident)

Physical Affection Prompt #15 (The biggest warmest hug)

Physical Affection Prompt #13 (Kissing someone’s forehead)

Physical Affection Prompt #6 (Chasing after their lips after they pull away)

Physical Affection Prompt #25 (Playfully biting)

Physical Affection Prompt #4 (A hug after not seeing them for a long time)

Physical Affection Prompt #21 (Accidently knocking your head against their chin)

Physical Affection Prompt #22 (Kissing their cuts/bruises/scratches)

∞Incorrect Jujutsu Kaisen Quotes

#1 #2 #3 #4 #5 #6 #7

∞ Skipps Art

Random Gojo 1

Cat ears for Gojo

Dog Hybrid Gojo

Happy New Year 2021

Mochi Gojo

1k Followers

2k Followers

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojou satoru #gojou satoru x reader #gojo headcanons #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #jkk imagines #jjk gojo #skipps writes #skipps masterlist

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luxshine · 3 years ago

Text

Moon Knight Primer Part Thirteen

Moon Knight (2016) #10 - 14

Prologue, Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX, Part X, Part XI, Part XII

And here we get to the end of the Lemire Run, a 5 part story titled Death and Birth, which is not the end of the 2016 volume, as there will be another writer in this who will do a lot more to cement most of what is now considered the origin of the guys’s DiD, the new revised origin of Moon Knight, as well as adding two characters to the canon that are amazing and… sort of erase Randall from reality? Because during all this, there’s not a single mention to Randall Spector to the point that if someone came to these issues after only seen the series one could believe that a) Randall was series only, and b) Randall was a cinnamon roll to be protected despite him being a murderous serial killer at best and a murderous serial killer cult leader at worst in the comics.

There are a couple of things that are a bit controversial of this run, so I will tackle them fast: Mental Health Treatment is NOT as terrible as it is shown here, and I believe electroshock therapy is no longer a thing, at least not in reputable hospitals. However, yeah, this puts the Spector parents in a worse light than before, as you will see soon. Rabbi Elias Spector used to be a loving, if a bit strict father with his absolute pacifism, here he is almost as bad as the spineless man who let his son be abused by his alcoholic wife in the series.

Second, it makes clear that no, the Alters didn’t came to be because of Khonshu’s interference, as Ellis had proposed. While Lemire won’t say clearly why they came to be, it’s clear that Jake, Steven and Marc have been a System since the body was at least 10, Steven and Marc being the first split and Jake coming forward a bit later. The only Alter who comes up after Khonshu’s deal in Cairo is Captain Spector, and Captain Spector is never seen again after Lemire’s run ends.

Third: It makes a MESS out of Marc’s backstory regarding his abilities, as there’s no way that he would have gotten C.I.A. and possibly S.H.I.E.L.D training after his stint as a soldier, and yet, offers no alternative explanation as to why our guys can go against say, Taskmaster toe to toe, without Khonshu giving them extra strength, but there you go.

One and three are, in my opinion, the only parts of the Lemire Run that are bad. There are a few of very purist comic fans who dislike the second part but they’re a minority (and most disliked the Lemire Run in the first place because absolutely Nothing on it happens in the Real World, and it’s ALL in the Guys’s Innerspace and well, that is a bit of a high concept when your favorite hero is the Punisher because he shoots bad guys -really, reading THOSE forums gave me a bit of a headache)

And well, we have to remember that since Everything is in the Guys’s mind? And in specific framed from Marc’s point of view as he remembers, with only one tiny sliver of Jake fronting? It is still an unreliable narrator. It’s not HOW things happen, but how Marc REMEMBERS them happening.

But well, let’s go into exactly how it goes. And once again, instead of going issue by issue, since this still changes fast from flashback to “reality” to the Othervoid which is reachable from Marc’s innerspace -and how cool is that? And let’s start precisely with the new and revised Origin of Moon Knight -and the system.

We begin with Marc and Steven meeting outside Marc’s apartment building. They’re both ten, and anyone can see they’re pretty much identical except for the fact that Steven is not wearing a Kippah, and is dressed in a bit of a more elegant way than Marc. As if he was Marc, born into more money. Marc mentions that his father is the rabbi at the local synagogue, but Steven dismisses his own father as ‘not being around much’ and that it doesn’t matter as he’ll grow to be rich and famous as a movie producer, so he’ll not need his father anymore -this even lines up with the original Moench run where Steven pretty much refused to see Rabbi Spector in his death bed. Marc may have loved his father, but Steven? Steven wanted nothing to do with the man for what he did to Marc.

By the way, Marc’s childhood room? An absolute treasure of easter eggs: He has Max Headroom posters on the wall (Max Headroom being a show about a man working together with an AI made out of his own brain-patterns. An outside Alter, if you will, as Max and Edison do not share the same body, nor the same mind. But it is curious still as they have their origin in the same brain), a telescope and books of astrology, a lot of Star Wars toys, and an Iniana Jones poster, a few trophies for different sorts, an A-team poster, and the fact that he’s a Cubs and Bears fan. He also has a Blast Off figure, whose armor is VERY similar to Moon Knight’s black suit. There’s also a lot of art supplies and an etch-a-sketch, as if Marc was still deciding what he wanted to do with his life. Which is obvious, as he was ten.

The boys’s conversation is interrupted by the arrival of Rabbi Spector, and that’s when we get the wham shot of Marc completely alone in his room, the clear sign that Steven is only in his head, and Rabbi Spector looking devastated at the way his son doesn’t seem to notice this.

A little bit later, we see Marc having a conversation with a psychiatrist and his father. He is confused as to why the doctor asks about Steven, and tries to say something about Steven AND Jake, who is, according to Marc’s father “A new development”. In a heartbreaking moment, we realize that neither the doctor or his father are talking TO Marc, even when he is right there, and instead are talking ABOUT Marc, to the point that soon, they make him leave the room so they can discuss things privately. Marc tries to hear through the door, but he is soon distracted by the arrival of someone else: Khonshu, peering over his shoulder, announcing that no, Rabbi Spector is NOT Marc’s True Father, instead, that HE is, and that He will be waiting, because “Soon” Marc will come to him, and then, he’ll be complete.

As always, Khonshu is sketched and inked in a glitchy way, showing how other wordly he is, compared to Marc’s reality. As Marc is reeling from this, his father comes out from the office and pretty much tells the poor boy that he is sick, and he’s being sent away to be cured because neither Rabbi Spector nor his wife can help Marc with his illness.

And thus, we see the first step for Marc to see his condition as something bad, something to be ashamed off.

As the flashbacks are intermixed with Mr. Knight return to the Asylum to face Khonshu, there’s this incredible sequence where he meets Anubis to barter for Crawley’s soul, and he jumps into the Over void, and we can see short scenes of poor Marc, Steven and Jake’s time in the asylum, as he’s forcibly medicated, told he can’t go home, and finally, as the Alters refuse to be integrated, and fight for their existence as a system, is forced to endure Electroshocks. (And then, he falls into ANOTHER reality, which may or may not be right outside Marc’s head but still in the astral plane, given that we see him come out of the void as if he had just surfaced from water, but I digress)

Notice, by the way, that Lemire DOESN’T give us a reason for the original disassociation, nor for Jake’s appearance as an Alter. With just the information we have, it could have been the abandonment and lack of acceptance of his family, or something else. The point is that it doesn't STIGMATIZE Marc’s Plurality, nor implies that there's a good or bad reason for that first split. The comic, right now, is not making a judgment about it being good or bad. What is CLEARLY bad is the fact that Rabbi Spector couldn’t accept his son… his sons, really, and the way the hospital tried to “Cure” the boys into what is considered “normal” behavior (Side rant: I HATE the world “normal” to describe people. Even among Neurotypicals there’s no such thing as Normal, but this is not for here and now) THAT is what causes Marc to feel ashamed of his condition, to try and hide as much as he can -and I specify MARC, because later we’ll see that Steven, Jake, and yes, even Captain Spector, have a different view of it. And I mean, Captain Spector was a very late comer to the party!

And yes, I know we ended the last arc with a sort of Integration where Marc was the only one left standing, but that is undone in issue 11. I’ll go on about how it happened WHEN we reach that point in the chronological order, not in the narrative order.

So, going back to chronological.

Marc spends at LEAST 8 years in the hospital, away from his family, under the “loving” care of many doctors including Dr. Emmet (Remember her? Oh, we will discuss about this TERRIBLE doctor later. She may not be a Crocodile Goddess, but boy, her license should’ve been revoked LONG before she got her hands on the boys’s case) , and he’s being allowed to go home temporarily as his father has died and he’ll be sitting shiva. Marc, being older, is no longer wearing his kippah all the time, and packs very lightly for the burial and funeral -which is the ONE and only time we see Wendy Spector.

At the funeral, Wendy says that Marc’s father would’ve been happy to see him, something that Marc really doubts as he knew that his father was embarrassed of him for his condition. As the argument grows, and Wendy mentions that all her husband wanted was for Marc to “get better”, Jake takes over fronting duties, trying to save Marc from being upset, to which Wendy responds as if the whole DiD thing was just Marc “being difficult” and not, you know, real.

I REALLY hate the Spector family as not ONE of them ever supported Marc. It’s at this point where I think that the guys WOULD be better off if Khonshu was REALLY their father and not, you know, just claiming them as their avatar on earth.

Speaking of which “Marc” -possibly Jake pretending to be Marc again to keep Wendy off his back- excuses himself to go to the bathroom, instead goes to his childhood room that has no more posters… but still has his old telescope… and, hearing Khonshu call him from the moon? Runs away, apparently to join the military after lying to his recruiter about his mental health issues.

And here’s where we get to the ONE scene in the Lemire’s run that I feel is deeply problematic and is an absolute W.T.F. moment that comes out of nowhere and has nothing to do with the story. See, Marc spends three years in the Marines in this version of his origin, has two tours in Iraq “mostly peace keeping” (because yeah, Lemire is HIGHLY responsible for cleaning Marc’s past ledger in the form of retcons, and thus making it easy for others to blame Moon Knight’s violence on Jake. I love the man, I love his run, I can’t deny he did this), but has a lot of “bizarre” incidents which culminate with him walking straight into a minefield while getting naked as he’s following the voice of the moon.

Sigh.

Yeah, no excuse for falling to THAT stereotype of someone with a mental condition. And while discussing this, Marc sees Khonshu telling him that he “will give his soul” to Khonshu in order to be “cured”. Because yeah, Rabbi Spector did a number on his son.

In any case, that incident causes Marc to be dishonorably discharged as unfit for duty -a new development as as I said, in the past Marc Spector’s record as a soldier was impressive- but before he can be shipped off back to the USA, and probably to the hospital, Marc runs away AGAIN, this time right into the underbelly of the illegal boxing rings of El Cairo. Because We may be whitewashing Marc’s killing as a soldier and mercenary a little later, but NOT his ability to kick ass when needed. During this time, by the way, Steven and Jake also fronted long enough so that Jean Paul Duchamp, good old Frenchie, has ALSO heard of them, but he still goes and recruits Marc. (And we know Marc is the one fronting during the Boxing matches because ALL this is Marc’s POV, remember? At this point, we’re still under the impression that the Alters were gone in the previous arc)

Working for/with Duchamp, Marc becomes a bounty hunter, and learns Arabic. After they capture a heroin dealer, they call the attention of whom Duchamp calls “the worst of the worst” although also “the one who pays the most”. Who is it? Well, our good ol’ friend Bushman, of course! Frenchie wants nothing to do with him, but Marc, enticed by the idea of a good paycheck, convinces him to at least “listen” to the offer.

Bushman hires them for a job to raid an archeological site and, once again whitewashing Marc’s past as a merc, we have him immediately telling Bushman to remember that the people at the dig are “innocents”, not drug runners or soldiers, solidifying that nope, Marc didn’t kill civilians or innocents before (Because his two tours in Iraq had him only seeing action ONCE, according to the man who discharged him). Not only that, but Marc seems convinced that the man with a SKULL TATTOED ON HIS FACE is “just for show” and won’t kill anyone even as Frenchie INSISTS that he doesn’t like the situation

So yeah, this is also the run that proves that the Moon System has exactly ONE collective braincell, and apparently at that point Jake or Steven had the custody of it and weren’t interested in sharing it.

Obviously, Marlene and her dad are at said archeological dig, and when Marlene tries to fight Bushman, he kills her father. Which is when Marc FINALLY realizes that Bushman is a real murderer and tries to fight back. Bushman, of course, knocks him unconscious, kills everyone except for Marlene and a couple of people who assure him they’ll take him to the Pharaoh Tomb, and kidnaps Frenchie in order to make sure that he flies them in and out the tomb.

When Marc recovers consciousness, he’s in the middle of the desert, with no water, no food and no way to survive. He’s walking without direction, and ready to lay down and die. And this is when Steven and Jake come back to him, assuring him that they never left, and will never leave him. Jake tells him to rest enough because once is night, HE will come for them.

And come he does. In this quite interesting take of the origin, Khonshu Temple APPEARS before Marc, from nowhere (although, of course, this is how Marc sees it, not necessarily the truth) , and Khonshu gives him a choice: “Do you want Death, or do you want life?” and when Marc chooses life, Khonshu tells him that in exchange, he’ll become Khonshu’s: His hands, his eyes, his vengeance, his knight”. Which Marc misheards as “night”, which does NOT amuse our old pigeon (yes, Khonshu’s personality on this run is the closest to the one we see in the series).

Khonshu then picks up Marc to set him on the altar of the temple -this is intermixed with something happening in the present, as Bobby and Billy, the jackal orderlies, and dr. Ammut return, confusing Marc, the readers, and reality itself- And as the “present” gives Marc an electroshock… he wakes up in the Pharaoh Tomb, in front of Marlene, and we get the original origin play out as we remembered.

Which means that at the very least everything we saw from the moment Marc recovered consciousness to this moment? Is how HE remembers Khonshu bringing him back to life, and we finally know WHY he woke up convinced he was now Khonshu’s fist of vengeance.

And yes, again, all the changes from the original story? Where Marc HAD known how dangerous Bushman was and so on? Are easy to explain in the sense that as I’ve been saying? This is just how MARC wants to remember things, and what we saw in the Moench run is the reality, at least as far as his mercenary career went.

(Because, again, if not, Moon Knight’s fighting abilities make NO sense, and Marc would be the most himbo to ever himbo to believe that a Mercenary in the middle of a war zone would JUST threaten to kill people)

Anyway, that is it for the re-imagined origin. I can’t call it a straight retcon because of the nature of the unreliable narrator, and as I mention, as much as I love Lemire? I dislike how he treats Marc’s time as a soldier. I can headcanon all I want about how this is not Marc’s true story, but it’s not actually SAID in paper. So. It’s all theories.

Now, as for what ACTUALLY happens in the series, while Marc is reminiscing about his past? Oh, that is a completely different horse and where Lemire redeems himself HARD after the “I need to get rid of all of you Alters” nonsense.

See, we start with Mr. Knight entering Gena’s diner, as he’s retracing his steps backwards to the hospital, and there, he admits to Gena that he knows that while she’s real in the outside world? Right here she’s his memory of her. That he’s been sick for a long time, and wants to get better and this, all the travel out from the hospital and back? Is his way to find a way to get better. This is when we’re seeing the Rabbi Spector’s flashbacks, by the way, so yeah, Marc is still in the “I have to get rid of my sickness” path.

Leaving Gena, he comes again to meet Anubis and Crawley as Mr. Knight. That is when Anubis tells him that if he retrieves something from the Overvoid that Anubis lost, Anubis will give Crawley back. Despite Crawley’s protests -a stark contrast with how Crawley, seen by Jake, was demanding that his sacrifice wasn’t in vain- this is when Mr. Knight jumps into the Overvoid space and, after crossing his childhood memories of the psychiatric ward torture, lands into what seems a a fantasy world with Egyptian men ride giant insects and are ready to sacrifice him to their gods.

Marc is captured, and that’s when he finds what Anubis lost: Anput, his wife, who is being held as a slave.

Here’s where the reality of this unreality gets a bit iffy, as there’s no reason for Marc to know this, or to add this to his mental narrative really, but given how he came to the place (jumping through his memories and then surfacing into the new reality as if he had crossed a pool of water) this can be the astral plane: Still not the outside world, but not necessarily Marc’s mind. The so called “connection” between the Over void and our plane, that Ellis introduced in his run.

And as he’s going to be sacrificed to the god of that particular plane? He’s rescued by none other than Classic Moon Knight, who, in Marc’s mind space, is specifically Jake. And when Marc says that he thought he had killed him, Jake, in all his absolute Jakeness just replies “You didn’t think you could get rid of us that easily, did you, Spector?”

Seeing Marc and Jake fight back to back? A thing of beauty even as Jake reminds him that they “Need to put their differences aside in order to survive” and that by now, Marc should know that “we” are never alone.

Yes, Jake talks in plural when talking about themselves. Because HE is the part of Marc that understands that they don’t need fixing. They have always been this way, and instead of fighting that? They should embrace it.

(Even if, again, their roles re: how much violence is too much violence have been completely reversed)

AS they fight, Steven does the daring suave hero thing of going and rescuing Anput from her cell. He doesn’t fight at all, and even gets saved by Anput herself at some point, but he IS the one who brings Marc his Mr. Knight mask and for now, we are setting as a pattern that Moon Knight is Jake, and Mr. Knight is Marc, and Steven… Steven brings the refreshments (and again in the color code: Jake and Marc? Dressed all in white. Steven is wearing gray slacks, white shirt and black suit. He is the only one who doesn’t “like it when they see me coming”, because HE is the only one in the system who really, REALLY doesn’t like fighting)

And oh, Captain Spector is ALSO back, ready to provide aerial defense, and a way to go back to Marc’s mind space as he confirms that yes, where they were with Anput was ONE reality, and the Hospital where Marc has to face Khonshu is another. Also, for all of Jake’s talk in plural when they were rescuing Anput, now he and Steven agree that the mission that has to be done, and why they can’t stay and rescue all the other slaves, is Marc’s and Marc’s alone: “You have a job to do” and “You can’t afford to get sidetracked”.

Marc realizes they are not coming with him, and Jake tells him that’s right, because HE, Marc, made sure that they can’t go. Steven is sure that the one who can survive is Marc, and Captain Spector points out that just because they can’t “always” be with him now -because of the whole disappearance before- they will ALWAYS be there when Marc needs them.

This is, by the way, not because they’re integrated or shoved back to the back of the mind space. No. It is because THIS specific trip? Is Marc’s path to acceptance. Neither Jake nor Steven need that, because they have NEVER thought they’re broken or in need of fixing. They know they’re Alters, they know they’re a System, and they’re ok with it. Captain Spector had a traumatic way to face this, but he was also young enough as an Alter -and apparently, under Jake’s specific protection given Jake’s reaction to his original disappearance- that he also has come to accept this easily. HE never had Rabbi Spector telling him he was sick, and it shows.

But Marc? Marc still has to get to that point. And he won’t get there if the others are carrying him. This is a path he has to walk on his own, indeed. As an aside? Look how DAMN happy Marc looks once he is reunited with the rest of his system. It's one of the most gorgeous parts of the art, how we go from Sad, dejected, even defeated Marc, to a Marc that has found his family again.

Marc sends Crawley to Gena and keeps walking into the hospital, now led by Khonshu’s voice who is growing more and more manipulative. He calls Marc his pet, his son, and reminds him that this is the way to get “peace” and the “Cure” Marc has been looking for all his life. The hospital is Marc’s brain, Marc’s “weak” mind, and he is absorbed into it, into a black void with only the Moon, Khonshu’s left eye, for company.

Marc has no patience for that, and destroys the moon -much to Khonshu’s annoyance as he had to do “all those craters” by himself- and then fights his way out of the brain despite Khonshu warning him he’s damaging it more because, in Marc’s words? It’s “too late” to worry about that.

Now, here’s where the flashbacks I summarized before and the action finally merge, and while the Electroshocks given by Dr. Ammut and our orderlies are what “Bring” Marc to life back in the past? In the present they are the ones who bring Marc back to THEMSELVES.

Because after the first shock, he gets the strength to break free, and as Bobby screams that “Spector’s Free”, The SYSTEM replies “Not just Spector! All of us!”

And while sometimes he still speaks of himself in the singular? They also shift into the Plural. Because “WE’ve outgrown you, Khonshu”, they say, as they walk into the final encounter. And Khonshu? Starts referring to them by the three names at the same time, even if we only see one body. Because now we're seeing the System, not Marc, or Steven or Jake, but all of them, co-consciously moving forward.

And that’s when Marc realizes the truth. This? This is not really Khonshu. THIS thing that has been telling him to succumb, to let himself go, to let it drive his body so that Marc doesn’t have to think, to kill his Alters and be the only one who decides to let go? Is “That thing in my mind that is wrong.” Yes, THIS Khonshu is his madness, or, more precisely, the FEAR he had about his condition being wrong, something to be ashamed of. And as he reaches for The Madness’ head (because I refuse to keep calling it Khonshu, as it is NOT him), we get the most incredibly affirming dialogue about mental health in GENERAL I’ve read in a comic. And I say Mental Health in general, because I know it can touch a lot of singlets, but I figure it is much more important to Plurals, and so, I am writing it in full here in case you can’t see the image.

Marc: “I am sick. I know that. I will never be cured. This is always going to be who I am. But I can still live. I can still have a life. And I won’t let you ruin that for me anymore.”

The Madness begs, claims that Marc needs him.

But Marc replies, as the art shifts from him, to Steven, to Jake,

“No Khonshu… I AM Marc Spector. I AM Steven Grant. I AM Jake Lockley. And WE are going to be okay. We are going to live with WHO WE ARE. WE ARE MOON KNIGHT. And WE NEVER NEEDED YOU.”

And with that, they crush the Madness skull head into tiny particles of bone, freeing themselves finally from the fear and the stigma that Rabbi Spector had instilled in Marc so, so long ago.

And as we get back to reality? The inner dialogue of the guys shifts completely to plural, as they admit that they’re still not sure if what they’re feeling at the moment, the quiet, the rain, IS real. But it’s Real enough… “and that’s good enough for US.”

So… yeah. With this we close the BEST run of Moon Knight, even if I have to admit it had some stumbles, and we close on 187 issues of Moon Knight from the first Moench issue to now. How do I know it’s 187? Easy. This is when Marvel decided to run the “Legacy” imprint, ignore all the restarts on all their titles and keep the numbering as if they had never cancelled any book and restarted from zero.

So join me in Part 14, as we start the Bemis run with Moon Knight 188, and we get to see the result of Marc, Steven and Jake’s path to acceptance.

Oh, and the cementing of Jake as the violent one as well as my thoughts about why this was a horrible mistake that becomes quite problematic. But, as I said, that is for part 14.

#Moon Knight #Moon Knight Primer #The Moon Knight System #Marc Spector #Steven Grant #Jake Lockley #Khonshu #Not!Khonshu #Crawley #Jean Paul Duchamp #Captain Spector #The Spectors were terrible parents #Jake Lockley is not a violent man #but this is the run that started that particular meme

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parcequecestnotreprojeeeet · 2 years ago

Note

Hi. It’s me, Fanfic Anon #2. I’m back with part two of my series, Laurence (I went in age order, ha ha). Laurence’s is based on reporting I saw about their response to her divorce. I’m unsure how true that report is, but I honestly haven’t seen that much else about her. Of all three, she’s the one I had the hardest time with, because of that and because I’m unsure what a relationship would look like given they’re the same age and were peers in school for so long. They’re obviously close (she shows up at all the major events, she clearly spends a lot of time on vacation with them), but beyond that? So like Sebastian, I went for a more friend-ish relationship than a strictly parental one, even if he clearly loves them like one (every time he says “nos enfants” my heart grows two sizes). Hopefully you all enjoy it.

For context, according to the report she spent a week with Brigitte in Touquet and Emmanuel cleared his schedule as much as he could to spend the weekend with her. (PS as a disclaimer: I’m sure her ex is a lovely guy - I just figure Emmanuel and Brigitte are incredibly protective of their kids no matter what, so no hate towards him was meant by this piece.)

II. Laurence

"Where is she?" he asked his wife the second he ran in the door of their house in Touquet. He hated that he couldn’t get there sooner, couldn’t get there the second she had called them in tears as the world had felt like it was ending. He hates more that he has to leave tomorrow, a short weekend the most he could clear from his schedule. He was desperate to make this time count as much as he could.

"She’s on the couch right now in the living room," Brigitte replied sneaking a quick kiss, needing to ground herself in him after the last few days she’s spent providing moral and emotional support, the process bringing up some of the trauma from her own divorce she had worked hard to put behind her while her heart broke at the sight of her daughter in obvious pain.

"How are you doing?" he asked, realizing from the way she was acting that while she has been putting on a strong front for her daughter, it was a front.

"I won’t lie and say it’s been easy for me. It is splitting me in two watching her like this. All I want to do is protect her, to make sure nothing and no one hurts her. It’s what I’ve done my whole life and then this asshole, who promised to love her and cherish her and take care of her for their rest of their lives does this? And there’s nothing I can do to protect her? That hurts far more than anything else this is bringing up. Besides during my divorce, at least I had you -"

"She has us. She’s not alone."

At Brigitte’s nod, he snuck another quick kiss before rushing into the living room, his heart breaking at the sight of this strong, intelligent, kind hearted woman so hurt.

"Men are the worst," he opened with a joke, hoping to bring a smile to her face, rejoicing at the light, surprised chuckle he got from her.

"Not all men," Laurence replied, moving to make room for him next to her on the couch.

"You’re right. Your brother’s not bad."

"And my kids! And my nephews!"

"Of course, although, I said men. They’re still boys," he allowed, sitting next to her and holding his arms out to hug her.

"I’ll keep that in mind," she replied as she settled her head on his shoulder.

"My brothers aren’t horrible, I guess, although, jury’s out on your Uncles."

"Still holding grudges?"

"You hurt one of my girls, and I never forget that," he told her very seriously, so she knew and could appreciate the full weight of what he was saying.

"You’re forgetting someone pretty important in that list there, Manu."

"Am I?"

"Yeah. You’re not the worst."

"I don’t know about that. As soon as you hung up, I threatened to send the army on him. Ask your mother. She had to talk me down off that ledge."

"Why did she do that?" she asked with another light laugh.

"I know, right? Something about ‘abuse of power,’ and ‘she wouldn’t come visit me in jail,’ and I think she may have mentioned something about how he’s ‘still the kids’ father.’”

"She’d so visit you in jail," she replied, levity starting to work its way back in, especially at the image of her mother visiting him during visiting hours, a smile finally back on her face.

"That was her weakest argument," he agrees with a smile of his own.

"I mean. She wouldn’t be happy about it, but she’d be in anytime there would be visiting hours, and probably would wait outside when she couldn’t be in there with you." She let out a deep breath she didn’t know she was holding. "Thank you. I needed that."

"Humour? I got a whole set of dad jokes lined up. Do you want a pun or corny knock-knock joke first? I read a whole book in preparation on the way over.”

She laughed, full-heartedly at that for the first time in days. "Thank you for cheering me up, for supporting me, for always being here when I need you."

"Listen to me," he said, pulling back to she could look him in the eyes and see how much he meant it, "you are my girl. I meant what I said - no one hurts my girls and gets away with it. Not your mother, not you, not your sister, not my granddaughters. He hurt you. He will not be getting away with it. Not on my watch.

"I’m sorry I only have this short time to be here in person right now. It’s in moments like this that I wish my schedule was more my own, more normal, because if I could take the full week off and bunker down here with you and your mother, I would. But I am always one phone call or text message away, any time day or night, any country or time zone. Because I am here for you, always."

She smiled as she saw her mother enter the room, clearly feeling like she needed to join them. "Come on, maman," Laurence waved her over.

Brigitte settled on the other side of Laurence from her husband, making sure she was cocooned in their love. "We love you," Brigitte snuck a kiss to her forehead.

"I love you two, too."

Hellooooo fanfic Anon #2! ❤️

Oh my heart! No but seriously, If I thought it couldn’t get better and sweater than Sebastian’s story, you just completely proved me wrong. In all ways! 👏🏻

Even through the difficulty that it is to write stories about their kids, you just continue to do it and brilliantly! And I continue to repeat myself but I can’t get tired of saying it... love how hard you work on trying to stay true to the actual characters involved! Thank you, really appreciate it!

Hahaha Emmanuel threatening to send the army on him for hurting his girl, the conversation between Emmanuel and Laurence about Brigitte reasoning him on it and saying that her mum would visit him on jail made me laugh! But that kind of laugh with a very warm feeling in the heart 🤧🥰🥰

This means, there’s only one story of the kids left ☹️ hahaha I wanted more because it’s just so beautiful!

Thank you so much! ❤️❤️❤️

#fanfic #fanfic anon 2

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ravennm84 · 4 years ago

Text

Serafina II

Part 1 Part 3

The 2nd installment of the “Marinette’s Haunted Doll” series. I was seriously shocked by how much response I got from part one, so I hope this lives up to your expectations. Blood, gore, and death are coming, along with some mental freak-outs. You have been warned.

Part II

Despite wanting to stay with Marinette to comfort the girl after the tearful apologies by Mylene and Ivan, Serafina couldn’t return until her work was finished. There was still much to do and people to punish.

She arrived early with Mylene, which allowed her to observe the others that entered the classroom. Kim had returned to school that day in a wheelchair. The cast on his leg went up to his waist and the one on his arm went up to his bicep. His face and exposed skin were covered in bruises and his right eye looked like it had blood in it.

“How are you feeling, dude?” Nino asked him as he entered alongside Adrien.

“Really sore,” the boy admitted. “Doctors had to reset my leg at the knee and said that my arm was a three piece offset fracture, so they had to use screws to put it back in place. Other than that; had a concussion, a lot of bruises, and a couple cuts; but no internal bleeding or ruptured organs. They said after a few months and some physical therapy, I should be as good as new.”

Nino gave him a solemn nod. “Glad to hear you’re going to be okay, dude.”

Kim’s expression dropped a bit. “I heard about Alya, I’m really sorry, man.”

The boy lowered his head while Adrien patted his back. “I really… I can’t believe she’s gone because of some freak accident. It makes no sense!” Nino jumped to his feet and started pacing as more students filed in. “I mean, she wasn’t supposed to die like that! Getting caught up in an akuma battle, childhood disease, there would be a reason for that! But that was just pointless!”

Mme. Bustier did attempt to calm him down, but her kind words fell on deaf ears before he grabbed his bag and left the room. No one could blame him, and only Adrien followed to make sure he would be alright, and to make sure he wasn’t akumatized.

Lila came in not long after with a curious bag in her hands. Serafina watched the liar as she looked around the room. She had a feeling that the liar would try something after her last attempt to frame Marinette had failed. When the girl tried speaking to Mylene, the doll was proud to see the girl refuse to acknowledge her as she continued to speak with Rose and Juleka. When it was clear that she was being ignored, she tried speaking to Ivan, only for him to give her a harsh glare that had her shuffling backwards. With Max and Alix still at the hospital and Adrien not in the room, that left her with Sabrina. The redhead had been sitting alone at the front of the room since Chloe had transferred schools after the Miracle Queen incident.

“Hi Sabrina, how are you doing?”

The girl smiled up at the italian, glad to still have a friend. “I’m doing okay, at least a lot better than a lot of our class. I heard Max lost sight in his one eye from the chemicals and Alix might have to have cosmetic surgery to get her face back to normal. At least Kim might be back to normal in a few months after going through physical therapy. But Alya…”

Lila faked her tears at the mention of her lost follower. She was really more annoyed than sad, Alya was easily manipulated, went along with everything she said, and Lila had been able to use her blog to build up her popularity. And the girl had been a decent attack dog, just point her at someone and off she went. Now that she was dead, maybe she could turn Sabrina into her new lead follower, she was already partially trained and it wasn’t like the blonde bitch was around anymore.

“I know, it’s so terrible. She was my first friend when I moved here, it’ll be so hard without her,” she faked a few more tears. And just like that, Sabrina took her hand in comfort and said a bunch of soothing words while she continued to fake cry.

After a moment, Lila placed the bag she’d been holding on the desk and pushed it away from her, making sure the action caught Sabrina’s attention. “What’s that?”

Lila fake sobbed even harder, hiding her face in her hands. “Ma-Marinette, she-she said it was m-my fault that Alya’s dead. She practically threw that bag at me and said to use it,” she said before breaking down in more fake sobs.

Carefully opening the bag, she gasped when she saw it was full of razor blades and a couple of kitchen knives. Sure, she knew that Marinette didn’t get along with Lila, but to actually give this to her and tell her to ‘use it’? How could she be so cruel?

Serafina scowled as the red head hugged the liar and promised her that she would take care of it. Her anger erupted as Sabrina stood from her desk with the bag in hand, and began walking towards Mme. Bustier’s desk. The girl didn't take two steps before tripping over nothing and falling onto her side. Luckily, she did not land on the bag. Unluckily, she gripped it too tight and the impact forced the knives and razors through the bag and deep into her hands.

The girl screamed and cried as blood rushed out of the wounds and down into her sleeves. She begged Lila to help her, but the italian backed away from the girl in shock. Mme. Bustier gripped her head between her hands and began saying “not again, not again” before running out of the room. The only ones that helped her were Juleka, Rose and Ivan; the smaller girl sprinting off to alert the nurse and the principal, while Juleka and Ivan got Sabrina to her feet. Ivan kept the girl upright and moving out the door while Juleka held the girl’s hands above the level of her heart to keep her from bleeding too much.

Those left in the classroom were in shock as they stared at either the door or at the blood staining the floor. No one said anything for a long time, not even Lila. She hadn’t thought anyone would get hurt. She just thought she would get Marinette suspended and everyone would be on her side again. Adrien returned before the others, completely shocked when he saw the blood and Kim explained to him what had happened. The blonde sent a scathing look at Lila but said nothing.

It was a while later before Rose, Ivan, and Juleka returned to class, along with M. Rupere. He informed them that their classes were cancelled for today. “After everything that has occurred this week, I’ve decided that all of you will be meeting with the counselor today. He will decide if more sessions are necessary and for who, but his door and mine are open if you need to talk. M. Deveraux will come to speak with you one at a time. Kim Le Chien, he had requested to speak with you first. Mlle. Rossi,” he looked sternly at the girl, “would you please follow me, we need to talk about the incident with Sabrina Raincomprix.”

Serafina smiled as the liar trudged out of the room after the man. She was satisfied with Sabrina’s punishment and doubted if Mme. Bustier would last another day before having a total mental breakdown. She also knew that Lila would be in even more trouble after M. Rupere looked into the girl a bit more. But just to make sure, Serafina touched her on the way out. To most people, that would do nothing; but to someone like Lila, it would cause her to become more and more unhinged until she did something drastic. Very soon, Lila would be out of the picture and those deserving of punishment will have paid their debts.

~oOo~

It was more difficult sneaking home with Adrien than she had expected, especially with the tiny god of Chaos and Destruction in his bag. Plagg was his name, and he was very defensive of his kitten and had threatened to cataclysm her. Serafina told him that she would not purposefully harm his ‘kitten’, but there was something she had to take care of at the Agreste Mansion. The doll had long suspected that Gabriel Agreste is Hawkmoth and she was going to find out tonight if it was true. Plagg was reluctant to agree since it would hurt Adrien; but if it was true, they had to put an end to it.

After arriving at the mansion, Plagg easily convinced the boy to sneak out and check on Nino. After he left, Serafina sensed something on Adrien’s desk. Being an enchanted/haunted object, she could sense other objects like herself… such as Miraculous jewels. And right there on the desk was a pin shaped like a peacock, one of the jewels that had been missing and used by Mayura. If there had been any doubts before about who had been terrorizing Marinette, they were gone.

Tucking the pin into her small outfit, she began to search the building, starting with Gabriel’s office. She had expected the man to be present, but he was missing. And given that Hawkmoth was a very active user, she had no doubt that he kept his jewel on him at all times. So, she waited.

It was about an hour later that Gabriel Agrest entered the room, and not from the door Serafina had expected. The man had a secret entry in the floor in front of a portrait of a woman. He was muttering on knowing better than to use Bubbler again, but that the negative emotions had been too strong to ignore. She also saw the purple kwami hovering over his shoulder, but the creature stopped when it sensed her. Gabriel strode out of the room, barely noticing that Nooroo had stayed behind and flew over to the doll hiding behind the desk.

“What are you doing here? If the Master finds you, he will destroy you.” The kwami said with worry.

The doll conveyed that she knew that his master was Hawkmoth, just as her human was Ladybug. She was here to protect her and return the butterfly and peacock miraculous to their rightful place. Also knowing that Gabriel had become too corrupted for his miraculous.

“I’ve tried to tell him that the wish would be dangerous,” Nooroo told her with downcast eyes. “He wants to make a wish to revive his wife, but he doesn’t realize that the cost would be to put Adrien, someone he loves equally as much as Emilie, into the same state of death. She isn’t even truly alive anymore, her body only lives because of the machine she is in.”

An idea spawned in Serafina’s thoughts and she barely kept herself from smiling. She asked Nooroo to help her activate the secret passage so she could get to his wife, but the little kwami shook his head. “Even if I could get you down there, the motion sensors would trip and he would attack you.”

Smiling this time, Serafina promised the little god that Gabriel would not attack her. That she would make sure that Adrien would be safe and the two kwami’s would go to their rightful place. All he had to do was help her open the door. Although reluctant and slightly scared, the little god opened the door, hoping that the nightmare would finally end.

Down in the lair, the doll saw the mechanical coffin placed in the center of the room and went to it. The motion sensors caught her quickly, but she had been planning on moving fast anyway. Opening the coffin, she settled herself into the woman’s arms. Nooroo had been right, Serafina could sense that the woman’s soul had departed from her body a while ago and it was only the machine that was keeping her body alive. With no other soul to contend with, this would make what she was about to do next all the easier.

Nathalie had called to alert him the moment the alarms went off in the lair while she and Simone were out on an errand. He was moving faster than he could remember with Nooroo following close behind. Gabriel transformed on the way down, prepared to attack whoever had stumbled in, but his breath caught in his throat halfway down when he got a good view of the room.

The coffin was empty.

Rushing forward, he began frantically searching the room for his wife, calling her name. He turned to rush back upstairs and froze. Standing behind him, looking dazed, was his wife. Her eyes were unfocused and her arms were hugging her middle, but it was her. Dropping his transformation, Gabriel cautiously approached her and she flinched back from him. It took a few minutes and a lot of gentle coaxing before he was able to wrap an arm around her shoulders and lead her to the elevator. When they got to his office, he watched her carefully as she began walking around the room. He wanted her to sit down and rest, but he was still in shock that she was awake and standing in front of him.

Eventually, her green eyes met his. “Where’s Adrien?”

“I… I don’t know, he should be up in his room.”

Emilie’s head tilted slightly, her eyes searching his. “What have you done? Did you make the wish?”

“No, my love. I was going to when I got the jewels, but Ladybug and Chat Noir evaded me.”

Tears grew in her eyes as she continued to stare at him. “You tried to make the wish? Knowing that it would have cost our son’s life?”

Gabriel froze. He hadn’t known that wishing Emilie to come back would cost Adrien’s… but Nooroo had tried to tell him. He remembered the kwami trying to tell him about the cost and he had forced him to not speak. “I’m sorry, Emilie. I didn’t-”

“You knew,” she interrupted, her voice lacking any emotion as she continued to stare at him. “You knew from the beginning that what you were doing was wrong, evil. You chose to ignore what it would cost.”

“Emilie, my love, please don’t say such things,” Gabriel begged as he rushed forward to wrap his arms around her. “All I have wanted since the day I lost you, was to hold you in my arms again and hear your voice. I was lost without you and was willing to go to the ends of the earth to bring you back. Is that so wrong?”

He had just barely met her eyes when he felt the twin pains in his arms. Jumping back, he looked down to see both wrists had been cut deeply with a pair of his fabric cutting scissors. Blood was draining from the wounds at an alarming rate. His hands were shaking and he was already feeling light headed as he grabbed a handful for fabric from his work table in an attempt to slow the blood. He wanted to call out for help, but they were alone.

His eyes grew hazed as he looked to Emilie, surprised that she was staring at him with such contempt. “I know what you’ve been doing while I was in that coffin. Tormenting the city and people I love, isolating our son and treating him like a burden. If you had ever succeeded in getting the Cat and Ladybug miraculous, it would have destroyed Paris. But you didn’t care. As you said, all you cared about was hearing my voice and holding me in your arms. Congratulations, your wish came true, and you will be the one to pay the price. Not Adrien.”

His legs gave out from under him as the fabrics dripped from the excess blood. He couldn’t understand how this had happened, Emilie would have never done something like this… but was this really her? With his vision fading, he took a hard look at his wife, only now noticing the dullness of her eyes, the greying pallor of her skin, and the fact that she only seemed to breathe when she spoke… “Who are you?”

Her head tilted again, the corner of her mouth lifting slightly. “Serafina. Quite astute of you to figure that out in your state. Your wife’s soul passed on a long time ago, all you have been doing is preserving a corpse. And I was telling the truth; even if you had made the wish, it would have cost Adrien his life.” Her hand shot forward, removing the butterfly miraculous before he could stop her. “Your actions have hurt someone close to me and I could no longer stand back and allow it to happen.”

She stood, walking to his desk to pull out a piece of paper and writing something down before neatly folding it and leaving it on his desk.

“Wh… What…”

“You just wrote a letter to Adrien; admitting what happened to his mother, that you were Hawkmoth, and the reason why you did what you did.” She said calmly before looking back at him. “Whether he tells the rest of the world is up to him. As for the miraculous, I will give him a chance at redemption. Though if he should fail, you may be seeing him sooner rather than later. Either way, they will soon be back where they belong, with the guardian. And you, good sir, have just committed suicide after bringing your wife’s body upstairs, so you would be able to hold her in your arms as you died.”

Unable to sit upright anymore, Gabriel barely felt his body collapse to the floor. He was hardly aware of Emilie lifting one of his arms to tuck her body to his side. The last thing he was aware of was something that he swore would haunt him in the afterlife; a porcelain doll emerging from the folds of her clothes and standing beside them. It stood there on its own, watching him until he could no longer keep his eyes open and he took his final breath.

Taglist (even longer):

@themagicmistic @andromeda612 @ramos123 @t1dwarrior-of-earth @justanotherweirdo277 @irisfox @thestrangestofthemall @plz-excuse-my-inner-ravenclaw @certainmuffinbagelcalzone @the-fandom-girl @wisecolorthing @mewwitch @luxurioushellgirl97 @seraphichana @fantasiame @whydoexamsexist @wispyrainbow @legodetectivemalsblog @kindasoundslikealien @shadowangelreborn @kazedancer @unmaskedagain @7-sage-7 @irontimetravelflower @ghostmaster83 @izang @ulmban @plushbookworm @corabeth11 @darkened-flame @caffeinetheory @iamablinkmarvelarmy @raiderofthelostbooks @cheshire5210 @chocolateherringtacofan @city-of-all-tunas @aadnrsstar @kitten12113 @interobanginyourmom @pandacatxd @nerd-nowandforever @jesussavedevenme @zoiechance @the-smallest-kittenz @wonderbat91939 @maskedpainter @tazer6787 @that-girl-sakea @seesea22 @with-forward-motion @ola-is-dead @thecrazyfantrollshasmoved @bayball @2confused-2doanything @queen-in-a-flower-crown @sabrina1414 @ceres-zephyr @if-you-give-a-chat-a-cookie @zalladane @tails-and-scales @rumbelle18 @sam-spectra @collegefae @pale-lady-dreamer @animegirlweeb @evaraux @consumeconstantly @iz-bell-saiah @puspa-san @wishing-to-be-a-fictional-chara @sassakitty @miraculous-ninja @fandom-trapped-03 @idontfuking @sillyfishrubberducky @anonymousreviewer-t @i-am-fallen-angel @zotinha456 @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @chocolatecatstheron @crypticsabbat @startouchedqueen1318 @para-dox-normal @marinettepotterandplagg @incredulous-reader @professionalfangirl1738 @fangirlnerd001 @redscarlet95 @sixtyeightdays @iamtotalfandomtrash @tazanna-blythe @animehime94 @mysticsoulgirl @miraculouspenta @local-witch-of-mn @roseinbloom02 @senpaiweird @iggy-of-fans @tropestropestropes @sleep-deprived-aroace @comteqfr @neromerp13 @prudencerika @galaxylightmoon @c-s-stars @spartanxhunterx @shadowhex99 @abrx2002 @lunartaravlar @theymakeupfairies @myazael @wannajointhecrabcult @some-weird-multifandom-girl @marvel--unsolved @kuroko26 @mcheang @nach0ava @syrencall @mexicantttt @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @enchanted-nerd @actual-disaster-human @mashmallow619 @clumsy-owl-4178 @hollowwisteria @kanamexzeroyaoifangirl @fandom-trapped-03 @lunataravlar @lady-phoenix-of-tardis @tishwinchesterannabethjackson @mariposa-macaroon @starlightshield @255940g

#lila salt #lila gets exposed #lila karma #Marinette deserves better #gabrielagreste #hawkmoth #bustier salt #class salt

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ssscentral · 4 years ago

Text

Devil like you

Summary: Your boyfriend has a revelation about who - or what - he really is as he invites over a friend to have some earth-shattering, toe-curling, out of this world fun with you.

Pairing : Demon!Namjoon x Reader x Demon! Jimin

Genre : Smut. Pure filth. It be dirty.

Warnings : Threesome, Demon summoning, Overstimulation, Swearing, Restraints, Surprise your boyfriend is a demon, Dom!Namjoon, Dom!Jimin, Sub!Reader, Light Edging, Dirty Talking, Oral Sex (f and m), Fingering

WC : 5.5k

Member : Duda || @biaswreckme

A/N : Hope you enjoy reading this, i’m quite proud of it :v It’s my first AU for BTS, so be gentle T.T This fic is the second part of the group prompt “Hell of a Ride”, each part with our own interpretation, so stay tuned because there is more to come! Any similarities with Supernatural are not coincidental, thank you Spn wikis for the words in Latin and the inspiration for some of the abilities of these demons. And thanks so much @fluffy-fluffu for being the beta ♥

taglist: @sugasbabiie

—————

You thought you should have known. You thought you should have seen the signs – and there were quite a few, thinking back on your relationship. It should not have surprised you like this. It should not have affected you like this. It should not make you wish for more, waiting for the next time it would happen. It should not… you should not… you should not want this as much as you did, right?

You should have seen it coming. It should not have caught you off guard like that, after all, who teaches this language with this much ease and what seems like almost natural and native knowledge? That should have been the first sign to strike your attention. He was not the first Latin professor in the language department at this university, but he was the best. But this department has a lot of languages, and Latin is part of the curriculum for some of the other languages. It was not weird to have a Latin professor. It was weird to have someone as hot as Namjoon teaching Latin. Hot, gods, you sound like a teenager again talking about boys and crushes. But yes, Kim Namjoon, one of the hottest teachers in the university – and it is a big one – teaches a dead language.

So when he asked you, the English teacher – not the only one in the department and you did not consider yourself to be one of the best-looking teachers there – out on a date, you said yes. It had been a while for you, issues with an ex left you being cautious about entering new relationships. It made you pay more attention to certain red flags, but there were none with Namjoon, at least not like those from before.

Kim Namjoon was considerate. Kim Namjoon was creative with his dates. Kim Namjoon was a romantic man, one that had you indeed feeling like a teenager dating for the first time, sneaking around the empty halls and classrooms, the butterflies in your stomach wild and making you giggle at the mere thought of him. Kim Namjoon paid attention to you and your problems. Kim Namjoon listened. And Kim Namjoon was great when it came to sex. Great actually did not really translate how incredible and mind-blowing sex with him was. He knew how to do things to your body like no one ever could before. He suggested some things – some kinky, oh, very kinky things indeed – to spice up the sex that you had only fantasized about but never had the courage to ask for, and he did not judge anything. It was almost as if his mission in bed was to give you utmost pleasure, even if it hurt sometimes – but it always hurt so good. Kim Namjoon was the perfect boyfriend. Maybe too perfect, so you think to yourself that you had ought to know better. No one could be this perfect. There had to be an explanation. And there was. You just never would have imagined that it would be this explanation.

The day had started just like any other, there was nothing special about it, at least to your knowledge. So why, oh, why did it have to be on this day? (Maybe you could ask them later.) You woke up to your alarm, as usual. You love your job, but you always found it difficult to get up this early in the mornings, so you always made sure to set more than one alarm. You got up, had breakfast – “breakfast” is a very general word, but you do eat a piece of toast while the coffee machine warms up. You had a shower, just a quick one to truly wake you up and get you going before getting dressed in your usual teaching outfit. Namjoon would be coming over later, so you would have time to shower again and get dressed up for date night after getting back from the university. You grab a travel mug on the way out, pouring the hot coffee in it, the smell invading your apartment just as you like it.

The classes go on without any issue; a slight problem with the projector in the beginning but nothing out of the ordinary and that would strike one’s attention, especially if one was used to dealing with the projectors in that older building the languages and literature department was stuck with. You crossed paths with Namjoon once the entire day, walking down the hallways of the old building; you were getting out of an English literature class, Joon going to teach his Latin II group. As your bodies got closer, both of you nodded in acknowledgment as if you were any other professor, but your hands discreetly touched in passing, just a small sign you had agreed on to let the other know everything is okay, have a good class, I love you, I will be waiting for you later. You knew he was going out on a field trip with an advanced class and he would have to leave during lunch, so you ate a sandwich in your office, watching some comedy series to relax and get energized for the rest of the day – of course, the hot and new cup of coffee helps -, every once in a while, pausing to chat with the other professor who chose to do something similar. The afternoon is not really that different from other Friday afternoons; no one usually comes during office hours, so no one came on this day. You spent your time alternating between counting the minutes on the ticking clock to be able to go home and get ready for the date and responding to some emails, starting the term report, and downloading some articles to read. You were alone in the office, so you have some music going to help distract you and try to make the time go by faster.

When you finally got home the first thing you did was hop on the shower again, but now taking some time for yourself, phone blasting your favorite songs as you washed the day away from your body, cleaning, shaving what you wanted, moisturizing with some shower oils Namjoon gave you and that you know he loved the scent of. You spent some time choosing your outfit for the evening, knowing it had to be good. You opted for a white lace and silk playsuit, the new lingerie that Namjoon had recently given you, and you knew it had to be expensive from the brand – expensive and fancy lingerie was a guilty pleasure you had that somehow Namjoon was able to indulge, and you had no complaints about it. It gave you an almost innocent look under the black dress, and you were curious to see Namjoon’s reaction. You did not do much for hair and makeup, choosing instead to keep it quite simple and natural – it was only going to be ruined later on anyways.

Soon you heard the bell ring and you looked at the small monitor near the door, letting him in. His hair was slicked back, giving him an edge that was not present in day-to-day life at university. He had his earrings on and paired up with his silver-rimmed glasses and that black blazer made him look unbelievably hot and so different from the pristine almost clumsy-like image of Professor Kim. He kissed you, murmuring a hi in the kiss, letting his hands roam over your dress. He paused and stepped back enough to look at you.

“Are you wearing the new gift?”

It only took a nod from you to have him pressing you against the wall, hitching your leg up and around his waist. His hands took advantage of the position and touched your skin, going up your thighs and bunching up your dress in the way, giving him access to feel the lace and silk on your body.

“Fuck,” he paused, almost breathless, “fuck the reservation, right? I need you now.”

You nodded in affirmation, almost as out of breath as him, “Fuck the reservation, fuck me instead.”

He didn’t need anything else to press you even harder against the wall, hoisting both of your legs; you wrapped them around his body, and he pushed his hips into yours, you could feel how hard he already was. You moaned into the kiss, his hardness was right against where you needed it the most, and when he started slightly moving his hips into yours, it made his length deliciously drag against your clit. The feeling was also enhanced by the lingerie; every time Namjoon canted his hips up, it made the lingerie move up together and tug on your skin, and it did not take long until it was snugged between your nether lips and you were certain you were staining the front of Namjoon’s pants with your wetness as he started nibbling on your earlobe, sucking and kissing your neck, the skin caught between his teeth to make sure it would leave bruises. And then he let you go, dropping your legs from around his body.

“Do you trust me?” He looked into your eyes, seeming unsure, which was unlike him. You could swear that his eyes got darker for a brief moment – and not in the way writers usually describe, with eyes darkening with pleasure or something akin to that. No, it seemed that they physically turned darker, almost black, but you thought you must be imagining things. It could not be humanly possible.

“I trust you, Joon.” You said without any hesitation, fingers entangling with his and taking him in the direction of your bedroom.

He started by taking off his glasses and carefully putting them on the wooden nightstand, taking a minute to take off his blazer and carefully drape it over the piece of furniture. He then turned to you and you felt nervous, his walk almost predatory towards you. He gripped your shoulders, taking the straps of your dress into his hands, and it felt like he was considering just ripping the piece out of your body and your breath faltered. So this was the mood today. But he must have thought better and let his hands caress the front of your body, squeezing your breasts, his fingers then gliding over your clothed nipples, feeling them harder under his touch. His hands moved down, grabbing the edge of your dress in his fists and then lifted it up and off your body, and then you were there, standing in front of him, the white lace and silk that covered your skin seemed almost virginal when contrasted with the current mood. You bit your lip, looking at Namjoon, gaging his reaction, and you saw his eyes widen, a smirk crossing his lips, his tongue unconsciously poking out to lick his top lip. There was a different look in his eyes, one that you did not recognize at all, and you were getting slightly more nervous now. What did he have in store for you this time? You tried to think back to conversations you had, discussing ideas in between cuddles and kisses on the bed, after one of the times you had some passionate lovemaking, his eyes glued to yours the entire time, his body encompassing yours, protecting you. Not every time was kinky, but there was no doubt tonight was going to be. You took a deep breath and stepped forward, your fingers going to the buttons of his shirt, undoing them one by one, slowly, your fingers shaking in anticipation.

“Remember when we were talking about maybe having another person in the bedroom with us?”

His question took you by surprise, your fingers stopping mid-action, and you looked at him. “Yes?”

“You are going to learn some things about me tonight, Y/n, but you don’t need to be scared.” He grabbed your hands, intertwining your fingers and kissing them while looking into your eyes. “I promise everything will be okay, and I’ll answer all your questions later. Now I just want you to enjoy yourself.”

And ok, now you were worried, and he could see that in your face, so he brought you closer to his body, hugging you, and your arms tightened around his body.

“You don’t have to be scared, love. It can be scary, but have I ever hurt you?”

“Well…” you started, giggling at the double possibilities to answer his question.

“I’m talking about real harm, Y/n. And might I remind you, who asked to be spanked again?” He chuckled, shaking his head, the mood getting a little lighter. “I can’t promise it’s not going to frighten you at first but keep an open mind. You have your safeword, you can stop this at any time, no matter what.”

“Ok. I can’t promise I won’t fear whatever it is… because you are scaring me a little bit, Joon. But I trust you. I know you won’t hurt me like that.” You raised your head from where it was resting on his chest, looking into his eyes again, and this time you could not be mistaken. They were black. Like black black; you could not see any of the previous colors in his irises, even the sclera was taken over by the color, and it hit you. You took a quick step back, letting go of his body, shocked. Was… was this real?

“I’m still me,” his voice was soft and his hands raised by his sides in that universal sign of I’m not going to hurt you. “It’s always been me.”

“So you’re not… possessed?” you laughed in disbelief.

“No. It’s always been me,” he repeated, taking one step closer to you with one of his hands reaching out, and hesitantly you grabbed it. “Let me show you. I promise you will have a good time.”

Your body was still shaking with fear when you let yourself get closer to him, but his words were starting to reassure you, calm you. If he had always been like this and never harmed you, you would be okay, right? The fear and worry were slowly starting to give way to curiosity and some slight confusion when he started muttering some words under his breath. Now, you did not understand Latin – it was a dead language, come on –, but you were able to pick up that he was almost chanting in it, words like te invoco, spiritus, infernalis, and daemon being spoken with more intensity. He finished saying it and kissed you deeply, his arms encircling your body and pulling you to him, when you suddenly felt another presence behind you, a second body pressing against you, feeling a hard chest pressing you into Namjoon even more. You stopped the kiss, looking over your shoulder, and your eyes stumbled upon another black-eyed figure. This man, this demon, was shorter than Namjoon, but with the way the front of his body was glued to your back, you could feel he was just as muscular, maybe even more, from what you were feeling from his thighs. There were no words for his face. You thought Namjoon was handsome, but this man’s face was on a whole other level of beauty, with those rounded full lips that would give Namjoon’s a run for their money. If it were not for his black eyes you would dare say his face was angelic even, with his light-colored hair parted in the middle. But something about the smirk and raised eyebrows let you know that there was nothing angelic about him.

“Damn, Namjoon. You’ve been hiding her this entire time?” He almost growled, shifting his hips, and you felt the hardness in his pants. “If I’d known, I’d have come sooner.”

“And this is Jimin, Y/n,” he started, scoffing at his… friend? “Now close your eyes and let us take care of you.”

He did not wait for an answer from you, and at the same time his lips found yours, you felt Jimin’s lips on your neck and his hands on your waist, and you could only sigh, close your eyes, and give into these new sensations. The two pairs of hands were roaming your body; the contrast of their clothed bodies against yours, almost naked, was heightening the sensation of your powerlessness, and you had to press your thighs together in an attempt to bring some pressure to your center and relieve some of the aching. You could feel their smirks when you did it, and then Jimin’s hand traveled downwards and on the front of your body, his fingers sneaking under the lingerie to feel your wetness.

“Fuck,” his voice was almost strained, “she’s dripping, Namjoon.” His fingers went all over your mound spreading your wetness around, careful to not touch you for too long to tease you.

“Is this right, Y/n?” Namjoon asked against your lips, then tilted his head back to look at you, his hand joining Jimin’s. “I know you get wet for me, but if I had known you would be dripping like this, I would have brought Jimin much sooner.” He stated as his fingers toyed with the straps of your playsuit, slowly lowering them. “And you are wearing this, today of all days… all in white…”

Namjoon’s fingers teased your nipples lightly at first, just caressing them while Jimin slowly lowered the lingerie down your body, giving open-mouthed kisses to your back and lower and he went down on his knees behind you. You closed your eyes, letting your head fall back and grabbing Namjoon’s biceps for balance when Jimin lifted your left feet first then the right, letting the playsuit fall to the ground off your body. You felt a pinch to your nipples, and you sighed, and shortly after you felt his tongue circling it, then his mouth sucking on it, tugging lightly with his teeth. You clenched your legs again, only for Jimin to spread them. You felt Jimin’s breath on your backside, and his hands made you arch your back so he could see you better from behind, but you felt nothing else but his warm breath very close to your center, his hands gripping your thighs from the inside to stop you from closing them. When Namjoon used the fatal combination of pinching down on a nipple harder and biting the other and sucking on it, Jimin chuckled.

“Do that again, Namjoon. She liked it, she just clenched down on nothing so hard.” His mouth was so close to you yet doing nothing, and to worsen the situation, he used his hands to help you spread your legs more. “Tilt your ass towards me, Y/n, I want to see you clench like that again.”

You did so without hesitation, arching your back more so he could see you better, and when Namjoon did it again, inverting touch and bite to the other nipple, you clenched again, needing their touch, needing something. And he combined pulling your nipple with his teeth with his other hand entangling in your hair and pulling it down hard, increasing your arch. You heard Jimin chuckle softly again and then his mouth was pressed to your inner thigh, licking upwards as he moaned, probably tasting the wetness that had started dripping. Namjoon was not being gentle anymore, using the amount of pressure and strength he knew you loved, much rougher than when you were making love, your nipples becoming more sensitive and abused under his ministrations. This moment, with his lips around your nipples, his teeth worrying them, while Jimin licked your thighs, was pure and unadulterated passion and desire. You let one of your hands fall to grab Jimin’s hair to try and direct him, but he let one of your thighs go to wrap his fingers around your wrist while he bit down on your thigh. You moaned in pain, but you loved it.

Your other hand moved from Namjoon’s biceps to the front of his shirt to undo the few buttons that were left, and he paused what he was doing to help you. When you went to unbutton his pants, you felt your arm being pinned to your back by the demon between your legs. You looked back and down, seeing Jimin licking his lips again while he got up. He pulled you against his body, murmuring that tonight was about you and not to worry about them. As he said these words, Namjoon’s long fingers undid his own pants, hooking them under his underwear to take them off at the same time. His erection slapped softly against his stomach, his cock long and thick, the bulbous head already a little wet with precum. He stepped out of his pants, his strong thighs flexing, and he came closer to kiss you again, letting you feel his hardness against your belly. He started to pull you towards the bed, turning your bodies so you could fall against the mattress with him on top, but he did not stay long. He got up, looking at Jimin, and raised his eyebrows.

“You look so innocent like this, wide-eyed looking at us about to devour you,” Jimin started, unbuttoning his shirt slowly, putting on a show for you.

The dark shirt Jimin was wearing opened to reveal toned muscles beneath, ones you had already felt against your back. His light purple hair was slightly messy from your attempt to grab it; his lips were turned up into a corner smile observing the way you were watching him. He let his hands caress down his body, feeling his own muscles, his luscious lips open now. One of his hands went to the button of his pants and the other grabbed his crotch, showing you the outline of his erection, and then he took the black garment off, and he was wearing no underwear. His hand went to his erection again, stroking himself up and down slowly, showing you his body and how proud he seemed of it. His cock was just as beautiful as the rest of him, the head a light pink color, and while he was thinner than Namjoon, he was just as long and curved upwards, and it made you wonder if he could hit that spot without much effort.

“We are going to destroy you, and you will take it all. You will be lying there on the bed, ruined, a sinner, and in the end, you will be begging for me to come back again and wreck you.” Jimin’s voice was deeper, his black eyes shining under the lights and the promise. And then he looked at Namjoon. “Have you done it yet?”

You looked confused for a moment, especially when Namjoon answered a no and Jimin chuckled. And then you understood. Jimin snapped his fingers and your arms were suddenly above your head, pressed on the pillow. You tried moving them but to no avail. Oh. Your chest went up and down quickly, your breath faster, but you smiled.

“Oh, this is new. Can you do it too, Joon?” You needed to know. Had he been hiding this from you this whole time? He licked his lips and snapped his fingers, and then your legs were up, an invisible force holding them up and wide open, spread apart for them. You bit your lip and clenched down on nothing, moaning softly, your head thrown back into the pillow. “This is fun.”

You smiled at them and saw them looking at each other smiling as well, but you could not even imagine what was going through their minds. Could they communicate like that? You had so many questions to ask Joon later, but before your mind could wander any further, your body was being dragged to the edge of the bed by Jimin, who was kneeling on the floor in front of it. You had never felt so exposed before and so without control, although you knew all you had to say was that one word and everything would end.

“She tastes delicious, Jimin. You’re going to love it.” Namjoon sat by you on the bed, looking down at the other man, and lowered his head to whisper in your ear, “you want to know another thing I’ve been hiding? We don’t get tired.”

Namjoon bit your earlobe at the same time that Jimin licked you where you needed the most, from bottom to top. You could only moan loudly and arch your back, your fingers closing into tight a fist and your thighs clenching, but you could not move them. You thought he would make you beg for it, considering all the teasing from before, but he wasted no time and started applying pressure to your clit with his soft tongue, short circular movements alternated with longer licks while his fingers kept your lower lips spread open for him. Unable to move, all you could do was take it, the pleasure intensified by your inability to move your legs; there was no escape from Jimin’s tongue on the underside of your clit, its hood up, leaving it exposed and so sensitive to his probing. While Jimin was doing this, Namjoon began playing with your nipples again. They were already hard and a little red from before, more sensitive, so when he started pinching them again the pain seemed to go straight down to your clit, enhancing your pleasure, and he seemed to know this. He became relentless in teasing them, pinching harder, lowering his body beside you to bite at them, tugging on your nipples and pulling them, letting his teeth scrape against the sensitive skin. Jimin’s tongue was also relentless on your clit, and the first time he felt you getting close to your orgasm, he stopped and looked at you.

“Please, please…” you sobbed and moaned; the desperation clear in your voice as Namjoon did not stop.

“Should we see if she can cum only by teasing her nipples?” Jimin’s voice was playful.

“No, please, please, no, please,” you begged.

“Oh, Namjoon, she begs so beautifully. But is it a no or is it a please, do it?” His tongue was between his teeth, his smile wider now, the look on his face pure teasing. You shook your head negatively, a sob caught in your throat, but he continued, “You’re clenching again, Y/n. I think you can do this. But maybe another day,” you let out a sigh in relief, “another day, when we will tease you for hours, edge you until even our breath will make you cum, how about that?”

Jimin wasted no more time and got back to licking you, making out with your pussy, encompassing it entirely with his mouth, and the moment his lips closed around your clit to suck it, you lost it. It took you by surprise; the sensation usually begins with a slight tingle on your belly, and then it spreads to your fingers, but this time your whole body clenched as pleasure overtook you, his tongue continuing to press on your clit while he sucked to prolong your orgasm. You did not know what sounds came out of your mouth, as your ears seemed to be ringing, numb to sounds. You could barely murmur out a weak stop, but he ignored it – which also relieved you, you did not really want to stop–, choosing to insert a finger and then two into you, moving them in and out at first and then pressing them upwards, looking for the spot inside you that made you see stars. You were about to say you were too sensitive for him to continue when he found it, and as you moaned loudly you heard Namjoon say something to him, but you couldn’t understand what it was, but Jimin’s response was to increase the pressure of his fingers and let your clit go. You were confused for a second but you soon understood when you felt one of Namjoon’s hands moving down, his fingers then making quick movements on your clit, knowing it was what you needed to get you there fast again. This time you felt the sensation growing, a tingling on the tips of your fingers, your toes, as it grew and permeated your entire body again. You thought they would relent, and then you remembered what Namjoon had said. They did not get tired.

You lost count after the fifth orgasm, or so you thought it was the fifth; your voice was hoarse from moaning and your clit was so sensitive from all of the overstimulation, and they did not seem like they wanted to stop anytime soon. You could feel the tears that had escaped your eyes wetting your cheeks, and every once in a while, one of them would lick them away while the other continued his assault on your clit, the pleasure relentlessly taking over you again and again. You did not know anymore when one orgasm ended and the other began, the tingling sensation a constant on your entire body. And then, finally, they snapped their fingers again, releasing your body from the invisible restraints.

You could barely move, but they helped shift and turn your body until you were on your hands and knees, Namjoon’s body behind you. You heard the sound of a small foil packet being opened, and then he was pressing inside you, his cock stretching you even though they had used their fingers before. It was always a stretch, Namjoon going in slowly, giving you time to adjust to his size before starting to thrust his hips into you. On his first thrust forward, you opened your mouth on a moan and Jimin took advantage of the opportunity to press his cock into your lips, holding your hair with one of his hands while the other was at the base of his cock, holding and moving it to go over your lips. You licked around his engorged head and then opened your mouth wider, taking him inside and sucking. You could barely keep your body upright, so soon your hands faltered, and you fell to your elbows, the dip in your spine changing the angle slightly and it had Namjoon pressing into that one spot that had you almost screaming. Jimin lowered his body, sitting down with his legs open to fit you between them, inclining his body backward, bending his elbows to have a good view of you, and it made it easier for you to suck him. His view was nice, your body bent forward, your ass being held by Namjoon’s hands while he pounded into you, but your view was not bad at all.

Jimin’s muscly thighs flexed each time he pressed his hips up, fucking into your mouth, his abs clenching, and his face… his face, dark black eyes half-closed, mouth open in a sly smile, licking his full lips still wet with your taste. You maintained eye contact while you sucked him, bobbing your head up and down, sucking hard when his head was about to leave your mouth, and when you went down, you let your tongue lick the underside. It was sloppy, saliva leaving your mouth, making him wetter and easier for your hand to help whatever did not fit your mouth. You were moaning around him, figuring he would like it as much as Namjoon did, and you were rewarded with high pitched moans from Jimin, his head now thrown back. On a hard suck downwards you felt his thighs clench and his release spill on your mouth at the same time Namjoon played with your clit, and you screamed and soon saw nothing else.

You did not know how long you were out, but when you came to your senses again you were lying on your front, covered by your blanket, and Jimin was nowhere in sight. You heard footsteps entering the room just when you raised your head and saw Namjoon with a cold bottle of water and pants on. He smiled tentatively at you, sitting by your side on the bed. He helped you sit, propped up against him, and you took the bottle from his hands, feeling thirsty.

“Hey,” his voice was almost shy, so different from before and from the usual Namjoon. Well, the Namjoon you thought you knew. “Are you ok?”

You nodded, smiling softly at him between sips. You looked around and then looked at him, the question clear in your eyes.

“Hm, Jimin’s gone now. He helped clean you up and left, we… we did not know if you wanted him here for the after. Or if at all. Or… if you still wanted me.”

It was strange, seeing this difference in him. Namjoon was so confident, especially in the bedroom, and after finding out the truth about him, you could not imagine he would ever be this timid.

“I still want you, Joon,” you could barely speak, but you wanted to reassure him, hugging him tightly. He needed you at this moment as much as you needed him. “I just have some questions, but I still love you.”

“I love you too, Y/n. And I’ll answer whatever you want.” He was eager to respond, his relief apparent in his voice.

“The first question is… can we have fun with Jimin again another time?”

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bitchassbucky · 4 years ago

Text

.zip

Word Count: 2k

Warning/s: toxic/abusive relationship dynamics, gaslighting and manipulation, abduction, injuries were mentioned, stalking, dark!bucky x dark!reader, emotionally/mentally unstable!reader, dismemberment (not gore-y but still), three very special character mentions, shady corporate stuff, career sabotage?, food mention, sedation/drugging, f-words.

A/N: oh my god, this is the final chapter of CTRL. to all who read from the start, thank y'all so fucking much - from the bottom of my big-ass heart, thank you so much for coming along with this journey. this is my first FINISHED series, oh my god. to @babyboibucky (CTRL's number one fan), @sarge-barnes-sir, and @borikenlove thank you so much for indulging my inner degenerate GHJSDFG and for screaming (affectionately) at me when i first let y'all read the finished draft.

BUT THIS IS NOT THE END (just yet), i will be uploading TWO epilogues very soon: the explicit version and the not-so-explicit version. stay tuned!

follow the CTRL series:

i - .exe

ii - .avi

iii - .raw

iv - .png

v - .zip

epilogue:

.eps (explicit)

.eps (cut)

CTRL playlist CTRL moodboard

Your demeanor, character, even tone, changed.

Calculated, cold, unnerving.

But you sat there like a housewife in front of her husband, eating spaghetti and meatballs. Acting all dandy like there isn’t a man strapped onto the chair four feet away from you.

“C’mon, darling, eat! I made your favorite,” your eyes twinkled as Bucky helplessly tugged on his restraints, “oh, sorry, you’re tied up.”

Hm, sick in the head, bad for the heart.

“What do you want?” Oh, wow, even talking hurts for him. His throat is all dried up, he tasted something bitter under his tongue.

You chuckled, moving half a meatball around your mostly empty plate, “for you to stop treating me like I’m stupid.” You spear the meat with your fork, swirling it in the sauce, “I know you’ve been… checking in on me, Bucky.”

Oh, fuck.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? I was-- I mean, look at you--” He’s making it worse. You’re mad. You’re angry because he was being a good friend.

He only did that because you were lonely and he’s right: you are lonely.

So lonely that you’re willing to kidnap a grown man to keep you company, “I’m so sad for you.”

“You’re aware you’re the one’s been tied up, right?” You’re curt as you should be, scooting over near Bucky to feed him.

“I can’t eat that—” If he wasn’t sitting down and tied, Bucky would’ve vaulted over you and called the neighbors, she’s fucking crazy!

You giggled, rolling your eyes as if he had the freedom to make a choice right now, “if you’re thinking of screaming… More than half of my neighbors are felons or on parole, I doubt that they’ll call 911.”

Jutting forward the fork, you let the prongs gently touch Bucky’s lips, “now, eat! We have so much to talk about.”

“No. I don’t-- I’m not hungry.” He shakes his head, the fork hitting his chin and clanking down the floor.

“Just eat the fucking food, Steve!”

Bucky flinched at your sudden outburst. The words—the name—seeping in a moment later. Steve? Who the hell is Steve? Was he your husband? Boyfriend? His head throbbed again, his mouth filling with saliva like he’s about to throw up.

You kneel down, pulling a napkin from the table to wipe the meat and the sauce from the floor.

“This better not stain.”

—

He promised thrice.

Once over pasta and meatballs, once over dessert, and once when you were clearing the table.

You relented, of course. Half because you love him and half because it’s getting annoying.

“As long as you don’t leave me, okay?”

“Yes, I promise. I won’t leave you.”

Bucky’s still seating on the dinner chair, slightly slumped without the ropes holding him up, “look, I’m really sorry about the anesthetic, I went overboard with it.” You look over to him—at least he’s regaining his fingers and arms again.

“It’s okay, babe, I wouldn’t trust me either.” If he could stand up, he’d go over and hug you. Helping with the dishes, peppering you with sweet kisses.

A genuine laugh slips out of your lips, “ugh, still… I’m really sorry.”

The last of the plates were neatly stacked, cups and cutleries were placed gently on a drying rack. It was getting late, you could tell.

“I’m not mad, by the way.” You muse, prompting Bucky to lean forward, listening to you.

“What do you mean?” He takes your hand into his, ever so gently.

“You did that,” you squeeze his hand back, gazing into his soulful eyes, “because you love me.”

Did you know that some people could read microexpressions well? Bucky went through a whole lot of them before answering, “of course, I do.”

Contemplating whether you call him out on it or not, you hum, placing a gentle hand on his jaw, “it’s okay, you’ll learn how to love me.”

He has to. He has no other choice.

Bucky clears his throat, “have you seen my phone?” His tone was hopeful, upbeat, maybe he can reach out to someone, anyone, before you can do any more damage.

“Yeah, ‘s on the couch.”

He tried to move, he really did. Bucky’s fairly strong, he can bench an easy 140 on a good day. But even the beefiest motherfuckers have no match for Propofol.

“Don’t worry about your friends, they’re not worried about you, Buck.” The coolness of your tone sends Bucky into a panic—again. “D’you wanna check your messages though? There’s a lot of ‘em.”

Grabbing his phone, you asked Siri to read him his latest notifications.

Urgent: Notice of Immediate Termination

From Joaquin: Where are you, man?

From John W.: Do you have copies?

Urgent: Notice of Immediate Termination

Urgent: Gross Misconduct

From Joaquin: Bucky, what the fuck?

From Samuel Wilson: Pick up the phone, Barnes. You’re fired.

17 missed calls from an unknown number

From John W.: I knew you were a freak but holy shit, dude!

72 text messages from an unknown number

Bucky never really liked horror movies. It made him jumpy and anxious. Too paranoid, even. But now? Now he’s sure that people have never experienced sheer fright before.

His toes cramped inside his boots, his feet were cold, sweating. The little hairs on his legs stood up, goosebumps littering the entirety of his body. If he held his breath, he’s sure he could hear his heart hammering out of his chest. The blood rushes past his ears and onto the base of his skull—he’s gonna be sick.

“What,” he gulped back the saliva pooling in his mouth, “what did you do?”

You’re irritatingly calm, “well, I mean… We’re already together, what do you need those for, right?”

Putting a warm hand over his forehead, you cooed, “poor thing, you look sick.”

—

Bucky thinks it’s well past midnight when the anesthetic wore off.

His limbs were heavy, he had to lean on the wall every couple of steps to regain his balance. Helpless. He’s helpless and you both know it. As if it’s a bear trap, Bucky carefully took his phone from the coffee table.

Why would you leave it unattended?

The screen lights up as soon as he picked up, his lock screen littered with ‘fuck yous’, ‘sicko’, and his personal favorite, ‘motherfucker.’

Ignoring the glaring messages, he went straight for the emergency dialler and—you took out his SIM card, snapping it into two neat pieces, placing it beside the phone.

Bitch.

The golden surface of the card was scratched too, he can’t do anything, use it as a toothpick, maybe? His phone was just as good as a paperweight.

He looks out of the window, limping towards it. Even if he could climb over, it would take him forever to get onto the street. Your neighbors would probably think that he’s just on a bad trip.

“It’s bolted shut. Perks of living alone as a single female.” Your voice made him flinch back, like a kid whose hand was halfway down the cookie jar.

Bucky plays it off with a cough, he can’t be weak now, “no, babe, I was checking out a noise. You ready for bed?”

You smiled softly, taking his hand and draping his arm on your shoulders as you prop him against you, “almost, big guy. Gotta get you settled in bed first. Are you tired?”

Nodding, Bucky kisses your temple, “yeah.” He just needs to play with your sick little games until he regains his strength.

Where would he go? His reputation and his job are besmirched, his apartment is probably crawling with forensics too.

“You fell down and banged your head earlier. Nasty cut on your head too. I told you to not tire yourself much.”

You hit and drugged me but I digress, “Yes, darling. ‘M sorry.”

“You scared me, Buck. I thought you were dead.” Are these tears forming in your eyes?

“I’m not leaving you, not by any chance. I promise.”

He promises a fourth time.

—

Your bedroom was bigger than he thought. But of course, he only saw your desk and your bed through the webcam.

Save from the Ted Bundy-esque corkboard you have in front of your workspace, he feels weirdly at home. You tucked him in, reminding him to wake up every two hours for the painkillers.

“You’re not going to bed?” He muses from behind you, all cocooned in your blankets.

“Just need to take this phone call real quick, babe.” Your back was turned from him as you work on your company laptop. He noticed that the webcam is covered with white tape.

The sound of an incoming call filled the room before you quickly answer it, your voice turning hoarse and raspy as if you’ve been crying.

Hi, Mr. Wilson. I’m so sorry for the late call. Do I- do I need to come in tomorrow? I just... I don’t feel comfortable facing everyone—I used all my home hours this week and—

Miss L/N, I’m glad you reached out to me. Is it okay if I record this call for security purposes? It’s just for you, me, and the HR department.

You turned to Bucky, your face is stone-cold but your voice belonged to someone so utterly helpless.

No, you don’t have to call into work tomorrow… Or any other day.

A dainty gasp and a fucking sob comes out of your mouth, your eyes were telling a different story.

Am I fired?

God, no. Please, Miss L/N, don’t worry about that. We want you with us through this entire debacle. We want you to take some time off—paid. We’ll also grant you… a grievance package.

You could almost hear what he would say next.

As long as you don’t talk to any members of the press or any journalists until our friends in the PR department can clean this up.

A triumphant smile creeps on your bare features, putting a finger in front of your lips, you mimic a ‘shh’ gesture to Bucky.

You round up another mirthless sob as the CEO drones on about the bureaucracy of this whole thing.

He was really nice to me, you know? He took me out on dinners and lunches. He even brought me to his place and I– nothing happened but I can’t stop thinking about it.

I’m really sorry, Miss L/N. I thought he was…

A good guy? I really thought so too.

Please stay offline for a bit, just for the weekend, alright? Someone from the HR department will be in touch with you for the process. We don’t wanna be a hassle more than what Barnes is. On our behalf, please accept our deepest apologies.

Jesus, this guy had the PR department cook up an apology letter.

Thank you—thank you so much, Mr. Wilson. I’ll keep in touch.

You burst out in laughter a second after the call ended. Hearty laughter, the one where you can feel your belly tightening.

“Did you hear how good I was, baby? Oh my god, we had them fooled.”

We? Fuck your ‘we.’

You slide over the covers, propping up yourself with your elbow as you turn to face Bucky, “don’t worry, you don’t need them anymore. You have me, yeah? We have each other.”

—

Out of the most bizarre things that happened to him last week, finding dismembered fingers in the fridge was the least of his concerns.

“Honey!” Bucky calls out, holding the ziplock bag with a pair of tongs.

You bound down the stairs, your laptop in hand as you squint, “what am I looking at?”

Bucky hesitated, maybe he’s going insane too, “fingers. Dismembered fingers—are these yours?”

Setting down the laptop onto the table, you peck him on the cheek, smiling as if him holding a baggie with human remains is just your Sunday normal, “god, I hope not. I need my hands to do things.”

As soon as you look back at him, you dropped the facade: “those are Steve’s. Well, used to be.”

Bucky’s afraid to ask the question where’s the rest of him?

“You know the term pinky promise, right? Well, it has a dark origin.”

Just as fast as a bustling train, Bucky rakes his brain for all the times he promised you something. Hoping that he won’t end up with a stump for a hand.

One vividly bright memory is seared into his brain though, the days blurred together with sharp edges and mismatched colors: we love how we were taught to love.

So, who taught you how to love like this?

#bitchassbucky writes #dark!bucky #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky x reader #dark!bucky x reader smut #dark!bucky x reader fluff #dark!bucky x reader angst #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes x reader smut #dark!bucky barnes x reader angst #dark!bucky barnes x reader fluff

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bloededhoine · 4 years ago

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world building cause twn doesn't part 12: the hen ichaer

i realize i've been mentioning the hen ichaer without really explaining it, and for that i apologize. but without further ado, let's go

colour code cause i fucking love colour codes - already happened/introduced, probably s2, important background info, stuff that might be in the prequel, extras

series masterpost

general

the hen ichaer is basically a magical gene that originated with the elven sorceress, scholar, and princess, lara dorren aep shiadhal

it can lie dormant or inactive for generations, but when someone is an activated carrier of the gene, they are called a source

sources have an insane capability for magic, it's so intense that without instruction they are a huge danger to themselves and/or others. remember pavetta's betrothal feast? hurricanes should not happen indoors

same thing with ciri's sonic scream.

obviously, the hen ichaer is highly weaponize-able, but it's difficult to put this into theory since the magic is so strong that it can easily kill the person who carries it

most important is that the hen ichaer can open ard gaeth, the gates between worlds. you may remember that the witcher is a multiverse, and the continent is just one of countless worlds

aen elle

the aen elle, elves who live in another world called tir ná lia, controlled at least one gate that they used to get slaves from other worlds

however, this was before the hen ichaer was seriously studied. unicorns are also capable of opening ard gaeth, and were present in tir ná lia, so the aen elle would kidnap them to be used as their world-hopping-genocide key. yeah, the aen elle are seriously fucked

the king of the aen elle was named auberon muircetach, and he was very well known for his wars with the unicorns, who weren't too keen on being enslaved for the purpose of conquering other worlds

the hen ichaer came into play when auberon noticed that his daughter, lara dorren, had pretty intense magical abilities. like, ard gaeth opening abilities.

auberon, lara, and a few other elves began studying the gene and trying to figure out how it works and how to use it.

through this study is how we got the title aen saevherne, which is used to distinguish an elven mage with extensive knowledge of history, science, magic, and, most importantly, the elder blood.

both lara and auberon were aen saevherne, as was lara's husband-to-be, avallac'h, and avallac'h's foster son, caranthir ar-feiniel

ithlinne's prophecy

ithlinne aegli aep aevenien was an elven prophet known for her incredibly dark prophecies that she delivered at totally random times. how dark were they? ithlinne's prophecies were almost exclusively about the death of all humanity and/or the end of the world. she was fun at parties.

anyway, when we talk about ithlinne we really only mean one specific prophecy, aen ithlinnespeath. to be confusing it's usually referred to as ithlinne's prophecy

here's the prophecy itself:

Verily I say unto you, the era of the sword and axe is nigh, the era of the wolf's blizzard. The Time of the White Chill and the White Light is nigh, the Time of Madness and the Time of Contempt: Tedd Deireádh, the Time of End. The world will die amidst frost and be reborn with the new sun. It will be reborn of Elder Blood, of Hen Ichaer, of the seed that has been sown. A seed which will not sprout but burst into flame. Ess'tuath esse! Thus it shall be! Watch for the signs! What signs these shall be, I say unto you: first the earth will flow with the blood of Aen Seidhe, the Blood of Elves...

what does that mean? well, the white chill (aka the white frost) is a massive ice age that has been approaching the continent for years. don't believe me? the white frost has destroyed countless worlds in the past, and it literally cannot be stopped. the only way to save the world is by the power of the hen ichaer.

here's a perfectly frightening visual of the white frost

ithlinne didn't elaborate on the how, but we now know that the only to survive the white frost is by finding a new world and massively evacuating the continent through ard gaeth, which can only be opened by the power of the hen ichaer.

genetics

clearly, the hen ichaer is important enough to literally save, or end, the world, but the aen elle did a famously terrible job of studying it. like, you'd think they'd be good at that, but no. to their credit, it is a bit complicated

first, there are multiple types of elder blood genes, the main gene, the latent gene, and the activator gene. to actually show the powers of the hen ichaer, someone would need to either have one latent and one activator, or the main gene.

let's go back to secondary school biology for a second, remember punnet squares? these fuckers

the letters in a punnet square represent a genotype, or the two alleles that are inherited from the parents. phenotypes, on the other hand, are what you see on the outside. for example, a genotype would be Aa but a phenotype would be brown eyes.

while the main gene is a simple dominant allele (shown by a capital letter on a punnet square), both the latent and activator genes are semi-dominant, meaning that when they meet they create a new phenotype: the innate magical ability that makes you a source.

it gets a little less scientific here so bear with me; this new phenotype is so powerful that it sometimes creates a whole new genotype. so instead of having one activator gene and one latent gene, the two would merge and you'd be left with only one (very powerful) main gene. this is the only single gene that actually has magic and it's a dominant gene, so you only need to have one to have the power.

but, the latent and activator genes don't always combine. you still have the full powers when they stay separate, but it is then less likely to pass the hen ichaer your children.

complicated? very much so. but in practice it's a lot easier.

for simplicity's sake i'll call the activator gene g/a, latent gene g/L, main gene g/m and a regular nonmutated gene g/r. to be a source, the genes you inherit would be g/a g/L, but they may combine to be just g/m. your average person would be g/r g/r and a carrier would be either g/a g/r or g/L g/r.

clearly, this makes tracking it pretty messy, since generations of people can be carriers without having a single source

tracking the hen ichaer

for now, let's do what those elven sages couldn't and track then hen ichaer, starting with lara dorren

eventually, lara met an exceptionally talented human mage, cregennan of lod, and they were lab partners (oh my god they were lab partners) in the study of the hen ichaer.

for all the studying, lara and cregennan's own genes have always been something of a mystery. elven mages don't tend to have any issues with using themselves as lab rats, so it's entirely possible that lara and cregennan, knowingly or not, mutated their own genes in their research.

ultimately, it doesn't matter what lara and cregennan's genes originally were. by some happy little accident, the two eventually ended up with at least one activator gene and at least one latent gene between them.

later, when lara and cregennan made their own happy little accident, riannon, she inherited one of each gene (g/a g/L), making her a source. however, riannon's genes did not combine as the elves expected, which made her a little harder to study.

riannon eventually met king goidemar of temeria (g/r g/r), and they had two children named fiona and amavet. i'll start with fiona, who the aen elle managed to figure out had the latent gene, making her g/L r

fiona ended up having a baby with king coram II of cintra (g/r g/r), they named him corbett, and he inherited fiona's g/L and one of coram's g/r.

the aen elle lost track of the hen ichaer when they studied riannon's other kid amavet. see, amavet was kind of a whore. he had twins, muriel and crispin, with the married countess anna kameny. obviously, these children weren't legitimate, and when the angry count kameny murdered amavet a few months later, he was officially childless

the elves did, however, manage to figure out that amavet had riannon's g/a gene and goidemar's g/r gene. anna kameny was just g/r g/r, and crispin ended up being g/r g/r as well. destiny does favour the hen ichaer, but sometimes it's just not meant to be. muriel, on the other hand, did inherit her father's activator gene and was g/a g/r.

let's hop back to corbett, fiona and coram's g/L g/r son. he and princess elen of kaedwen (g/r g/r) had a son, dagorad, who got corbett's latent gene and one of elen's regular ones, meaning he was g/L g/r

muriel married robert of garramore (g/r g/r), and their daughter adalia, the dramatically posed lady right there, had the same genetic combination as her mother, g/a g/r

this is where it gets even weirder

the lovely adalia married dagorad. her second cousin. they shared riannon as their great grandmother. feel better in the fact that it was not intentional, adalia's mother, muriel, was not officially riannon's granddaughter. no one would have even known, but adalia's g/a met up with dagorad's g/L in their daughter, calanthe

for the first time since riannon, the hen ichaer was back, and calanthe's parents genes combined to give her g/m g/r

while it took generations of destiny and accidental incest to make the hen ichaer happen again, now that calanthe had the main gene there was a 50% chance she would pass it to her child, which, of course, she did

calanthe and her husband roegner (g/r g/r) had pavetta, who inherited the g/m from her mother. no one knew about this until pavetta literally created a source hurricane, and was already pregnant

pavetta and duny's (g/r g/r) daughter, ciri, inherited the main gene from her mother and was a source.

sources

it's important to note that a source is not necessarily an incredibly powerful sorcerer, merely a person who has the genetic predisposition required to channel very intense magic

sources, like anyone else, can be bad students, allergic to potions, or just generally averse to magic on all levels except heredity. there is also no way to guarantee that even the most willing source will be good at using magic, in fact it's far more common that they will be really really bad at it. sources are extra susceptible to the chaotic state of magic in the world, and many end up pretty seriously harmed by it.

magical talent tends to make itself known in very emotional situations, like the death of a parent or a war. the same applies for sources, but they have an extra rule: their full powers are off limits until they lose their virginities

now, netflix has not mentioned that rule to be true or false, but i'm going to think of it as strictly book/game/etc canon, because ciri is 10 years old when netflix shows her using her source powers for the first time

the virginity rule makes things even more complicated, as customs about premarital sex are pretty strict in the witcher world (well, among nobility), and the dudes didn't seem to have fast reflexes. what i'm saying is that getting pregnant the first time you had sex was not uncommon. sources couldn't even use, and likely weren't aware of, their powers until they were already passing them on to another generation.

and even still, there is no guarantee that someone who is a source will ever actually show their powers. calanthe had the genetics, but she wasn't a mage. what happened? we don't really know. after calanthe married, cintra was pretty peaceful; there were no invasions or massive upheavals that could put enough stress on her to show her powers. plus, her parents didn't know she had any magical powers, so they didn't give her the training that would develop them, and she was a very level headed person who would likely be unaffected by many of the things that would make another source lose their shit.

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watchmegetobsessed · 4 years ago

Text

VALERIE - Part II. (Harry Styles)

thank you so much for all the love you have showed to the first part of valerie! im so happy you are just as excited about the story as i am so i hope i won’t let you down.

if you are enjoying the story please make sure to give it a like and reblog so it can reach even more people and of course as always im more than happy to read your thoughts and comments on the part!

word count: 3.9k

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

Working on a major report you have to finish by the end of the week, you are completely focused on your computer’s screen when your phone buzzes on the desk next to the keyboard. You grab it and answer the call without even checking the screen.

“Y/N,” you say into the phone.

“What’s your size?”

Harry’s voice pushes you out of focus as you grimace unintentionally.

“Since when do you have my number? And what the Hell are you talking about?”

“Since I asked for it from your sister,” he tells you matter-of-factly. “And I’m asking you what size shirts you wear.”

“Why do you need to know that?”

“Because I’m trying to dress up as you for Halloween.” Your eyes widen at his comment, but soon enough he continues. “Because I found cute matching shirts for godparents and a goddaughter and I wanna buy it, but I don’t know your size.”

“Oh,” you say, finally understanding the situation. “What kind of shirts?”

“It’s Fairy Godparents themed, thought it would be funny to wear it at maybe Christmas or something. But only if you are up for it.”

“Yeah, sounds fine,” you nod and give him a little guide to what sizes you usually wear, letting him decide which information he needs for the shirt he wants to buy.

“Have you thought about what you are buying for Val for Christmas?” he asks once you put the topic of your size aside.

“Harry, it’s the middle of October. I don’t even think about Christmas presents until the 15th of December,” you let out a tired sigh.

No matter how bad you want to start shopping in time every year, you have failed every time so far, no exception.

“This proves that I’m the better godparent,” he huffs on the other end of the line.

“It’s not a competition, Harry,” you roll your eyes.

“But if it was, I would be winning. Anyway, I might go a little overboard with the present, so if I end up ordering something big, are you interested in teaming up? I don’t like to give the biggest present on my own, makes it feel like I’m bragging.”

“But you kind of are bragging.”

“That’s besides the point. So, do you want to share or not?”

“I guess we could,” you shrug your shoulders leaning back in your seat. Your legs feel numb as you finally straighten them under the desk, you haven’t even realized how long you’ve been sitting there, eyes glued to the screen.

“Perfect. Is that all?” you ask, not because you are impatient to leave the conversation, it’s been kind of pleasant, you just have a lot to do.

“So you’re really going on that blind date on Friday?”

You furrow your eyebrows at the sudden change in the topic and how boldly he just asked you about your private life. This was the last thing you expected from him.

“Why does that have anything to do with you?”

“Was just asking,” he says and you can see him shrugging his shoulders. “It’s an odd thing.”

“For you. I’m fine with it.”

“Are you though?”

“Why does that matter to you?”

“It doesn’t,” he simply answers. “At least there will be something to make a joke out of next time we meet,” he snorts and you roll your eyes at his comment. Now that sounded more like Harry.

“Unless you won’t have any information about it.”

“You seem to forget Steven gossips like a little girl and I can also have my ways with Rosa too. I’ll have the details before you even get home after the date.”

“You are so full of yourself, Styles,” you sigh, shaking your head.

“Yeah, and it seems like you were also full of me one time.”

“Go to Hell,” you spat, mocking his British accent that just makes him laugh. “If you are done making a joke out of me I’d like to get back to work.”

“Whatever, Love. We both know you just want to get away from this conversation so I don’t roast you even more.”

“Bye, Harry!” you sing before ending the line without even waiting for an answer. Harry Styles once again proved how talented he is in getting on your nerves.

***

Marcus turns out to be a great company and you are finally sending your kudos to your sister for setting you up with a hot guy who is also smart enough to keep up the conversation and not bore you out of your pants.

He took you to a fancy restaurant that’s in the building of a hotel, a place you normally never go to, because it’s pretty much out of your budget, but Marcus was persistent on going there and paying for dinner. After the starter awkwardness you soon cool down and maybe that wine he ordered has helped you relax too. Marcus tells you about himself and then you do the same, just covering the usual fields of your life.

“I have to admit, when Rosa said she wants to set me up with her little sister I was hesitant at first,” he chuckles softly when your dishes finally arrive.

“You’re not alone with that.”

“Does she set you up often?”

You shake your head. “No, there was just one other time, but the guy was horrible, I have no idea why Rosa thought we would be a match.”

“I hope I’ve been better than him,” Marcus chuckles.

“Absolutely.”

You hear your phone buzzing in your purse and at first you just ignore it, but when it goes off two more times you sigh and reach for your purse.

“Sorry, I forgot to mute it completely,” you excuse yourself as you grab your phone and your plan was just to mute it, but then you see that you got three texts from Harry and your curiosity doesn’t let you slide over it so you quickly check them.

“Well done with your outfit.”

“Gives a great view of your legs.”

“Is it also this tight on your ass?”

You run over the messages two more times, staring at your phone in complete confusion. What is he talking about? How does he know what you are wearing?

“Is everything alright?” Marcus asks and you snap your eyes back at him.

“I, uhh—Yes, everything is fine, it’s just that…”

As your gaze runs over the place your anger immediately boils inside you when you spot that familiar grin at the bar. Harry is sitting right there with a scotch in his hand that he raises when you spot him. There’s another guy with him who you don’t know, but it seems like he is more focused on you than his friend.

“For fuck’s sake…” you breathe out clenching your jaw. “Excuse me for a second,” you tell Marcus who just curiously eyes you as you slide out of your seat and head over to the bar. As you march over to the grinning Harry you are literally fuming, ready to kill him right then and there.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you snap at him trying to keep your voice down. You wouldn’t want to make a scene for sure.

“Having a drink, what does it seem like?” he asks innocently, but his face tells you otherwise.

“How did you know I would be here?”

“Why do you think I went into such depths as finding out where your blind date would be? Can’t I be here by accident?”

“Nothing about you is an accident except the fact that I ever found you charming enough to sleep with you,” you growl back and earn a laugh from his friend. Harry wasn’t expecting such a harsh response for sure, you can tell it surprised him, but he doesn’t let it push him out of his cocky act.

“Was it Rosa and Steven?” you ask, folding your arms on your chest.

“What if both?” he asks smugly and God! You just want to smack him across the face.

“Why are you here, Harry?” you narrow your eyes at him.

“Maybe I just want those details first handed. It’s funnier to witness it all.”

“You know what? I don’t think that’s the truth. The reason why you are here is because you are afraid someone might treat me right and that I might have an experience that would just make you appear like an even bigger asshole than what you already are.”

Harry chuckles looking away from you, but you can tell you just wounded his confidence big time, so you decide to take it further.

“I made a mistake with hooking up with you, but I’m smarter now and I don’t start with little boys like you. I know my worth and what I deserve so I’d really appreciate it if you could move on and let me be. I know it’s hard to forget about me, but you’ll have to try.”

You mentally highfive yourself, because this time you actually made him shut his mouth, he has no retort as he opens his mouth but then closes it back. Flashing him one last bitter smile you turn around and walk back to your date and make sure Harry has a nice view of your ass. He can have one nice thing after getting so burned.

Your little scene with Harry doesn’t ruin your date, especially because not long after you made his jaw drop to the floor he decided it’s best if he just leaves quietly. By the time you finished eating he was nowhere to be seen.

However you keep thinking about why he even chose to come there. It was way over that healthy line of picking on someone and being an annoying stalker. It’s one thing wanting to know the awkward details about your date, but showing up was definitely just too much.

Part of you was expecting him to call you the next day, maybe apologize, but more like to make a joke out of the whole thing but you don’t hear a word from him and it makes it easier for you to forget about it pretty fast.

A week later you are having dinner over at Rosa’s, just the three of you plus baby Valerie who you keep in your arms the whole night, not able to get enough of her cuteness.

“I knew you two would hit it off,” Rosa sighs with a proud smile and Steven just rolls his eyes at his wife.

“It was alright, yeah,” you nod with a soft chuckle. You just told them about your date with Marcus and you can tell Rosa feels like she just hit the jackpot. After that disastrous try you had last time Marcus was surely a change for the better.

Valerie looks up at you with her huge eyes as you flash a grimace at her, earning a short giggle before her attention diverts somewhere else. She is grabbing onto your finger, not letting go of it as if she is trying to hold herself in place by her grip.

“Funny thing, Harry showed up at the restaurant too.”

Rosa almost chokes on her water and Steven starts to cough very suspiciously. Glancing up at them you can tell they are both to blame Harry had any information about where Marcus was taking you.

“Really? That’s… odd,” Rosa clears her throat.

“Is it though? You don’t have to pretend like you had nothing to do with it.”

“I’m sorry, but he just makes you talk so easily, he always gets what he wants,” Rosa sighs, clearly feeling guilty about it. “But I didn’t think he would actually show up. I thought he was just curious.”

“Did he cause a lot of trouble?” Steven asks, worried his friend gave you a hard time. He is not wrong, but it’s not your intention to throw dirt on Harry.

“It was just awkward. I don’t see why he came there,” you admit, shaking your head as you adjust baby Valerie in your arms so she is sitting now on your lap, looking around the table curiously.

You catch a look Rosa and Steve shares and you immediately know something is up.

“What? Do you know something I don’t?”

“No, we definitely don’t,” Rosa shakes her head, fingers running up and down the glass in her hands. “I just… there could be one reason I think he went there for.”

“What is that?”

“You don’t want me to say it out loud, it’s silly, let’s just forget about it,” she tries to end the discussion, but there’s no way you let it slip.

“Rosa!”

“I was just thinking, that… considering the past you two have, he might have been… jealous?”

“That’s literally the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” you scoff as you turn to Valerie. “Did your momma lose her mind, Princess?”

Valerie just looks at you curiously before smacking her little hands on the edge of the table, completely ignoring the conversation.

“I told you, you wouldn’t like this idea, but this is what I thought about.”

“Then stop thinking about it. There’s absolutely no way this is what it was about. Besides, our past is irrelevant. He was literally the biggest jerk to me when he had a chance with me. Why would have he blown that just to be up in my business now all jealous?”

“I didn’t say it doesn’t have any plot holes, but it could be a reason,” Rosa adds while Steven just hums next to her, not really taking part in the conversation.

Soon enough Steven takes Valerie up to put her to sleep while you and Rosa stay downstairs. You have moved on from Harry, but your mind keeps wandering back to him so you find yourself bringing him up again.

“What do you think about Harry? Aside from everything I’ve told you.”

You’ve always been curious how other people see him, since you had a very strong opinion on the guy that was tainted by everything that happened between the two of you.

Rosa takes her time thinking of her answer and you wait for her patiently. Leaning onto the table she rests her arms on it turning to face you.

“From what I’ve seen from him, he is a very loyal, caring and loving person. He and Steven have been friends for so long and Steven always told me how he could count on him no matter what and he has been proving the same to me. Have I told you he was the reason I got to wear the dress I dreamed of on my wedding?”

“What?” you ask surprised. “I didn’t know that.”

“Basically, I had that dress and a cheaper one held in the store until the day before the wedding. I knew we couldn’t afford the expensive one, but I guess I was hoping until the last minute for a miracle to happen and it seems like Harry was that. Steven asked him to pick the cheaper dress up because he was caught up with work that day. He told him specifically to bring the cheaper one and leave the other there. But when he arrived with the dress in the morning when I was getting ready, he had the expensive one. He said the lady asked which one he needed and when he said the cheaper one, the lady seemed sad and told him how much I loved the other one but I even told her I couldn’t afford it. Harry didn’t hesitate to pay for the difference the dress had over the cheaper one. I started crying the moment I saw that he had the one I loved and I was also panicking that I won’t be able to pay back to him.”

You listen to her in awe. It surely is a side of Harry you haven’t had the luck to see in the act, though you felt like you had a glimpse of it before the night of the wedding took a heated and then a quite sad turn later on. The Harry you got to know in the very beginning was the same Rosa was just talking about.

“Harry told me he won’t take my money, no matter how hard I tried to make a deal with him, he made his mind up and didn’t let me change it. I knew then that everything Steven told me about him is true. And I know he can be a cocky fucker sometimes,” she chuckles making you smile as well, “but he has a heart of gold for sure. And this is why I agreed when Steven told me he wants him to be the godfather. I want Val to learn from him, to look up to him, because I really think he can have an amazing impact on her.

“Listen,” she sighs leaning back in her seat and you watch her curiously. “I know that the two of you hate each other with passion, but… you can’t do it forever.”

You let out a long sigh looking down at your lap. It’s one of those sisterly talks when she’ll share her wisdom with you and you’ll just know she’s right. Rosa is always right. Well, mostly.

“I wasn’t there, I don’t know how he acted or what he told you exactly, but he is family now and one of you will have to take the first step. You’re wasting energy on the constant fighting, but I really believe you could work together as a team. I know it’s not just on you, I’ll try to have a talk with him as well. No matter what I think about why he showed up at your date, it was still an ass move. I’m just asking you to… be patient with him and maybe only say out loud half the insults you address to him in your head. That would be a nice start,” she chuckles and reaching over her hand squeezes yours as you nod quietly.

It almost hurts you how right she is. It doesn’t matter how pissed you are at Harry for everything he did and said in the past, you can’t keep on playing his ridiculous game forever. It consumes too much energy and time when you could just be neutral and coexist with each other happily in Valerie’s life. She doesn’t deserve to grow up seeing her godparents hate each other with a passion, that’s just not right. This time you gotta suck it up and move on from what happened, but everyone knows it can only happen if he cooperates as well. You can only hope he’ll take Rosa’s advice and show a nicer side of his face to you.

***

The room was exactly like battlefield, makeup and hair products laid on every possible surface as all the bridesmaids were getting ready, two hairstylists working on the girls while a third one was perfecting Rosa’s loose curls. Grabbing your dress you looked around for a possible corner where you could change since you were finished with hair and makeup, but you saw no free spot, so you had to be creative.

“I’ll go get changed in one of the other rooms,” you told Rosa before you walked out, down the hallway looking for an open and empty room you could use as a changing room for just two minutes.

Luckily you found one just two doors down the room Rosa and the girls were getting ready and taking a look around you made sure no one saw you sneak in there. It seemed once it was used as a smaller conference room, but now it was filled with boxes and extra chairs, looking more like a storage room. It was just fine for a quick change.

You quickly got rid of your plain shirt and jeans along with your bra since the dress had one sewed into it. You stood there, already in your dress as you were trying to get the zipper up, but it seemed like it got stuck.

“Great,” you grumbled, still jumping around hoping to find an angle where it slides right up, but it was stubbornly staying in the same spot. You were just about to gather your stuff and go back to the bride’s room and have someone zip you up when the door flew open and a tall, curly haired guy appeared with a suit on a hanger on his arm and a pair of shiny shoes in his other hand.

You jumped at the stranger’s arrival and he seemed just as surprised to see someone here as you were.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t expect anyone to be here.”

His British accent was thick through his words and it immediately made you think that he must be Harry, Steven’s best friend. You’ve heard about him before but never actually got the chance to meet him. Now standing in front of him with your back almost fully exposed you can’t help but feel a little shy. He surely has an intimidatingly handsome face and physique that shows even though his loose hoodie.

“I just snuck in here to get changed, I was just about to leave,” you explained yourself, holding your previous clothes to your chest along with the front of the dress so it didn’t fall.

“Your dress is… unzipped,” he pointed it out with a soft chuckle and you looked over your shoulder as if you had to check it for yourself, but you knew it well it was in fact unzipped.

“Oh, yeah. The zipper got stuck, I’ll just… have one of the girls help me.”

“Come here, let me help you,” he offered and you hesitantly, but turned around to show him your back.

His hold fingers made you jump a little when he reached for the zipper.

“Sorry,” he chuckled and you just shook your head letting him know it was alright.

It took him a few tries to get the zipper going, but it finally gave in and slid all the way up. Once it reached the top Harry ran his fingers over it gently as if he sealed it, the touch of his fingertips sent a shiver down your spine.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, turning around. “I’m… Y/N by the way,” you told him, holding out a hand that he took and shook with a charming smile on his soft looking, pink lips.

“Harry. You’re Rosa’s sister, right?”

“Yeah, and you’re Steven’s best friend.”

“I am,” he chuckled. “You look a lot like Rosa, if I might say.”

“We get it a lot. It’s the eyes, I think,” you told him. You and Rosa more or less have the same eyes and maybe share a similar jawline too that makes it pretty obvious that you two are sisters.

“Two sets of pretty eyes,” he smiled and your eyebrows rose at the compliment, feeling the heat crawling up on your neck to your cheeks.

“I… better get going, so you can change too,” you told him turning away and rushing to the door before he could realize how nervous he just made you.

“See you around, Pretty Eyes!” he called out after you.

He called you Pretty Eyes quite often that evening. Whenever you met at the bar, when he sat next to you through dinner, when the two of you talked outside, a little farther away from the people having a smoke. But the last time he called you that was when the two of you were heading to his room, he was all over you, kissing you anywhere he could, hands gripping your waist greedily as you were trying to open the door with the card he handed you in the elevator. That was the last time he called you that. You haven’t heard this nickname from him since then.

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