#Snake searched all night for his husband

[witch-of-fanart]

Gangreen Reunion page 69-75 of 119

Ace falls, Ace flies, Ace is found by the other Gangreen gang members who were searching all night long!

[brummiereader]

Binding Love (Part Four/ Dark!Tommy)

Summary: After another eventful morning, and onslaught of demanding questions from your husband. Linda and Arthur's engagement party has you unexpectedly seeing another side of your husband, the side you continue to yearn for. But with revealing his former self to you, comes revelations that will horrify you.

Warnings: Dark!Tommy, language, violence, psychological mind games, controlling behaviour, toxic relationship, manipulative behaviour, psychological abuse, mutual pining, angst, murder, smut.

Word Count: 5K

Authors Note: Sorry this chapter is late everyone. I had a busy week and not enough time to write. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

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" When he turns up, can you have him call me?" your voice echoed down the line, fingers nervously twiddling with the twisted wire of the phone as you bit the corner of your bottom lip.

Last minute Larry his secretary had joked, you thought to yourself, reassuring your concerns as you placed the receiver down onto its brassy stand.

You just wanted to apologise, just wanted to hear the end of the nagging worries that had plagued you for the entirety of the night.

For Tommy had not only embarrassed you the previous evening with his raging paranoia, he had scared you. Scared you in a way that had your stomach turn, had you begin to fear for your own safety and the fate of your future, he held forever in his hands.

" Who was that?" your eyes snapped open to the sound of your husband's gravely voice ripiling down the curve of your neck, the lapels of his suit jacket gently brushing across the back of your flowing dress.

" No one" you flatly replied, your attempts to leave stopped by your husband's snaking hand slipping around your stomach.

" Don't lie to me, sweetheart" you felt the heat of his breath fan over your ear as he turned you around to face him.

Stood face to face, his looming frame pressed tightly against your heaving chest, forcing a suffocating response from you as you watched his gaze slowly drift to the telephone, brow cocking as he waited for your answer. " Well?"

"Mr Wyatts secretary. I just wanted to apologise, for leaving so...abruptly, last night" you chose your words wisely, choosing not to further rile his unpredictable temper up with lies he'd undoubtedly sive out as you attempted to pull away from his searching eyes.

" And how is, Mr Wyatt?" Tommy let go as his hand slipped into his jacket for a cigarette, clearing his throat of the curling smirk toying on the corner of his lips as he scooted his muddy boot away from you and the evidence of his nightly hobbies.

" Fine. He's fine" you replied, brow scrunching at his shuffling feet and usually pristine footwear inching away, when your intentions to be honest were overruled by a profund urge within you to not give your smug husband the satisfaction of thinking he'd gotten to someone.

But unbeknownst to you, he had gotten to someone. Gotten to someone in the most sinful, most derranged of ways that ended with a dead body and a trail of mud leading to his crime scene.

" Is that so, eh?" He took a lingering drag of the tobacco rolled between his fingers, blowing a cloud of smoke to the towering ceilings of your home before his eyes drifted down to meet yours with a glistening stare of mischievousness.

How sweet, how...Innocent, he thought to himself with amusement as your heart froze with a gut wrenching feeling of doubt that the previous night hadn't ended with Tommy's parting words and the slam of your bedroom door.

" Ay up, buttercup" Tommy's smirks left you with a sense of dread as his attention drifted to your daughter, nudging herself between your bodies,  beaming up at her parents with a dimpled smile. " How's my girl, eh?"

" Suited and booted, Daddy" she replied with all the seriousness her rosy cheeked pout could muster.

" Right come on then, little soldier. Let's go" Tommy jostled in his pocket for his car keys as the loving smile for your six year old suddenly dropped from your face.

" Wait, i'm...i'm taking her" you looked back at your husband with a scrunched brow of annoyance, reinforcing your intentions with a firm hand to his chest to stop him from invading your morning routine, a routine you was adamant on keeping.

" The school called yesterday, while you were out...drinking" he played the doting father as he watched your fingers fall from his chest, a wave of shame reddening your cheeks.

" They want to speak with us, together" he grabbed your parting hand, closing the gap between you.

" But you would have known that if you were ever home, with your family" his blazing eyes of turquoise, still seething with jealousy from the previous day, bore into you with a hushed statement of blame.

Was he right? Had you been spending less time at home? Less time with your daughter? It was one evening...one. Or had it...had it been more than that? Your mind began to torment you with the seeds of doubt Tommy had sewn, for the confusion beginning to fester away at your already weary thoughts.

Playing you so harmously in tune to the sound of his own fiddle, you stepped away, your searching hand reaching for your daughter with a look of worry settled between your brow as you racked your brain over the last six months worth of tangled memories.

" Not gonna take the bus then? Get there on your own, on your own terms, after that song and dance you made last night, hm?" His pettiness came to a simmer as he stalked towards you, unwilling to let you forget how angry you had made him, how he had been forced to make such drastic decsions on your behalf to keep you safe.

Feeling the pull of Elsie's hand, giving you no choice but to let Tommy have his satisfaction upon seeing you give in, you followed your daughter without a peep of defiance to the car with your husband's passing comments whispering in your ear. 

" That new life of yours lasted long, didn't it, darling?"

Unable to dodge the talking down from the headmaster you was sure you was about to get, you and Tommy got pulled to the side as your daughter joined her classmates for the day's activities.

" So?" Tommy huffed as he pulled out his pocket watch from within his waistcoat, convinced that whatever the man had to say was not worth his time nor patience.

" It's about your daughter's behaviour" the words of the suited man plunged your motherly worries into your stomach in one quick, sudden drop.

" What...what has she done?" You stepped forward from Tommy's side, concerned as to what had been so grave it warrented both you and your husband's prescence.

" Not only has she been misbehaving, Mr and Mrs Shelby, but she took it upon herself to pick the roses in the school yard during lunch yesterday. Earning her a detention, I assume you are both unaware of" his nose rose above his framed glasses as he judged not only your supposedly unruly child but you and Tommy, her unruly parents.

" You had my daughter sent to detention for picking a fucking flower?" Tommy stepped in front of you, brow furrowing at the punishment inflicted on your child for something he believed to be innocent, if not expected of any little girl or boy of her age.

" They were very special flowers, Mr..Mr Shelby. A school project, participated in by all the students" all superiority, his position as head teacher began to disapate as he caught sight of your husband's gun concealed beneath the heavy lapels of his coat.

" You're wasting our fucking time" Tommy scoffed, turning to leave with a guiding hand to your back, refusing to entertain the ridiculousness of the conversation and its supposed urgency.

" Tommy" you rested a gentle hand to his arm, a soothing enough touch to simmer the anger within him and have him take note of your welling eyes of worry.

" I'll have my gardener come and plant new ones. Better ones. We done now, Mr...?" Tommy waved his hand in front of him, swallowing back his irritation for your sake, if only to have the feeling of you seeking his support for a mere second longer, to feel that you needed him again. 

" Mr Shelby, that will not solve your daughter's naughtiness. I've become aware of some news as of late. I must ask, is everything ok at home?" The head of the school pressed, daring to rile your husband up with his relentless questions.

" What was that, eh?" Your husband's patience with the matter in hand suddenly snapped into a demanding need to know what exactly possessed the man in front of him to ask such a thing.

" Well, I...heard that you were..." He stumbled out his response, suddenly conscious of how far he had pushed his questions as you tried to pull Tommy back from cracking his skull open.

" Married" Tommy pointed his finger as his body loomed over the man unable to keep to his own business and not prod into that of the notorious brummie gangster.

" We're leaving" a hand to your back had you rushing out the corridor as you stopped yourself from pushing his anger to boiling point with the true state of your marriage and your impending demands of divorce, yet to be settled.

" Fuck 'em, Y/N" he ushered you outside to the car.

" We'll change schools, to a private one" he settled the problem his money could solve, refusing to face the true issue.

" Fucking flowers..." He scoffed, reaching in his suit jacket for a cigarette to simmer his anger.

" Me and Arthur did far more than pick a few daisies to earn us detention, darling" a chuckle left his lips as he pulled out his lighter, eyes darting to the school he'd be inclined to see go up in flames, flowers and all.

" It's not about that, Tommy" you sighed as you watched his straining fingers attempt to light the flame in the drizzle that had turned into a lashing of rain.

" So, she's got Arthur's temper" he waved off your concerns, mumbling through the cigarette perched between his lips as his failing attempts to light it saw his patience dwindling.

" Your temper more like. Shelby temper" you huffed with folded arms, brow creasing as you watched his thumb repeatedly flick over the lighter's metal head without success.

" Tommy she's acting out, she's seeing too much.  Us arguing, us fighti..."

" What do you want me do, eh Y/N?!" your husband snapped, throwing his soggy cigarette to the ground.

" You wanted this, not me!" he grabbed you by your arms as the pelting rain battered down onto your shoulders.

" Fuck Y/N, you really think...you really think I would give you up that easily? Let you leave me without a fight?" his head dropped down with a sigh of exhaustion as a silence washed over you with the rivers of water streaming past your feet.

" What are we doing, Tommy?" What are we doing to our little girl?" you began to sob, feeling his fingers clutch onto your arms, pulling you down with the weight of his body as his heavy shoulders slouched forward.

" Lets go home" he refused to answer as his head came up to meet the tears streaming down your cheeks, hand brushing the sorrowful sight of your drenched locks from your face.

" I'll walk" you pulled away with disappointment, turning to leave from the conversation you could never move past as his way continued to demand all control.

" Make my own way, remember? Get there on my own. So I can think, alone" you left him with the words he had spoken that morning, a string of words said in passing by him but ones that still continued to sting you.

" It's pissing it down, you'll get sick. Get in, I'll drive you home" you pushed off his attempts to usher you into the warmth of the car as you walked into the downpour.

" It'll do you know good to think alone Y/N. Y/N! " Tommy stood in the rain watching you walk away from him once again before nodding to his man lingering near by in an unspoken order to have him follow you when the insufferable sight of the detective that had be hassling you came into view, body propped up against the door of his car.

Always fucking there. Always trying to get to you, Tommy slammed his door shut as his eyes narrowed in, fingers turning the silver key in the ignition with only one plan of action in mind. 

Foot pressed on the accelerator, Tommy sped towards him, swerving into his car with controlled prescion as the screeching tires skidding across the concrete came mere centimetres away from taking him out. A clear show of dominance by your husband, to prove to the inquisitive officer that nothing was beneath him, nothing he wouldn't do to keep the upper hand, to have you keep quiet.

He was just keeping you safe. Keeping everyone...safe.

Aching muscles and a sniveling nose, sick from your long pensive walk in the rain back to Arrow House, hadn't been on your list of things to endure before Linda and Arthur's engagement doo that evening. And with Tommy being right about the likely outcome of your stubbornness and refusal to have him drive you home, you had decided to drown yourself within the comfort of your bed than see the satisfaction on his face.

Curled up in within the freshly laundered sheets, you let yourself drift off to sleep as the man whose smugness you couldn't stand to face watched from the bedroom door, glass of water in hand with only a face of conern etched between his brows than the cockiness you thought you'd be met with.

" I hate to tell you I told you so, love" he quietly sighed as he padded towards you, placing the crystal tumbler on your bedside cabinet.

Perching himself on the edge of the bed, the weight of his own worries pushing his body down into the soft mattress as he ran his fingers through the length of his hair, pulling at the strands of stress.

" I can't help myself, darling" he confessed his lack of self-control in the silence, taking the opportunity to lay bare his sins as he watched you peacefully sleep, your mind momentarily free from the stress, from the shouting and arguing.

" Everything I do..." He stopped himself as he pinched his brow of the inner turmoil he felt. " Everthing I've done, it's been for you" he lifted his hand, inching it closer to your face and the lone twisted lock of hair resting on your cheek.

" I'm trying, love" he quietly added, his voice cracking under the weight of emotions scrambling up his throat, fully aware of his unpredictable temper that saw him doing the unspeakable, wholeheartedly believing his bloody hands were stained in your honour, for your safety.

" I'm just a man" he dulled his actions, justified his merciless slayings with his mortal, imperfect form as he brushed the lone ringlet of hair from your fluttering lashes.

"Y/N?" a part of him hoped you were listening, hoped you had heard his admissions of guilt.

" One day you'll forgive me" he snatched his hand away from your resting body, clearing his throat as he rose from the bed to flee his exposed vulnerabilities he felt foolish for laying bare as you began to stir in your sleep.

But rest was far from what you awoke to. For what was supposed to be a relieving sleep, turned into a thumping headache, drilling into the sides of your skull.

" Fuck" you huffed, lifting yourself from the covers as you forgoed the glass of water sitting on the table for the bottle of whiskey behind it.

If you were going to get through tonight, through Linda's obnoxious happiness, the reminder of your strained relationship, through this pummeling heachache, you would do it half conscious, you thought to yourself as you swigged back the amber liquid.

" Frances, what ever would I do without you?" your eyes drifted to the dress hooked on your bathroom door, your trusted housekeeper had managed to find for you after Tommy took it upon himself to rid you of anything that showed an inch of skin.

Fingers gliding over the silky crimson gown, you admired the beauty of the garment in front of you. It's soft fabric running through your palms until you came to a stop at the slit that Frances had sewn up after Tommy's demands.

Too high, too low, too much on show, Tommy's disaproving words rang in your head after the countless times he'd given his unwarranted opinions on your latest purchases.

At first you were flattered, flattered by his boyish jealousy that you'd comply. But when his jealousy came with a dousing of paranoia, and questions over who exactly you were dressing for, you began to resent the passionate show of love he'd shown.

Downing the last of the whiskey you threw the empty bottle on your bed before sizing up the satin dress and it's seemless sewing.

" There..." your face twisted as you pulled at the fabric, ripping the slit open and its looping threads one by one.

" That's better" you pulled the dress from its hanger, proping it up against your body to see your reflection in the mirror of your vanity and the provacating point you wanted to make.

Whether it be the whiskey that had fuelled your actions, the thumping headache or your frustrations with yourself for not standing your ground. One thing was sure, you was adamant on matching Tommy's pettiness and show him the true meaning of jealousy and the stark difference between what he believed was you challenging him.

" Tommy, don't" Ada's hushed voice turned to him, blocking your husband's eyes honed in on you giggling into the shoulder of a guest. A male guest. " She's just..."

"Trying to wind me up?" Tommy stepped away from his younger sister to see you glancing over at him, hips turning for him to see the provocking sight of your dress the way it was intended to be worn and not how he had Frances adjust it to his liking.

"...letting her hair down" Ada sighed, scooting herself back into his line of sight to save you from his glaring anger.

" Letting her hair down. Is that what that's called, eh?" he scoffed, tipping his glass in your direction, to the man accompanying you. The same man enthusiastically tending to your every need in a handsy display that had you flinch away, spilling the flute of champagne down yourself.

"Clumsy, clumsy" he chuckled, leering in as he pulled out his hankie to wipe the spilt droplets of bubbly that had trickled down your exposed thigh.

" Shit" Ada sighed, her protective stance not enough for her brothers fox-like eyes to see red the moment the gentleman beside you took it upon himself to dab away your clumsiness.

"It's ok, really" your panicked hands pulled the handkerchief from him as the shine of his gold cufflinks, encrusted with ruby gems caught your eye when a set of heavy footsteps appeared through your lashes. 

" What are you playing at, eh?!" Tommy snatched you away to the darkened corner underneath your winding foyer stairs.

" Nothing" you huffed, lifting your glass to your painted lips with a pout, feeling your legs sway from side to side as the champagne and half bottle of whiskey you had chugged earlier began to take effect.

" I know what you're doing" he snatched the crystal glass from your hand, tossing it's contents on a nearby leafy houseplant, unfortunate enough to be within close vicinity.

" Good. Is it working?" Your brow arched, unable to stop the emerging teen girl from your younger years trying to rile up her boyfriend of one week.

" Yes" Tommy's response took you by surprise, his battered eyes tired of arguing, catching you off guard as his finger trailed up your bare leg, closing the silky fabric around your exposed skin to save your modesty. " I came to you earlier. Did you hear me whe..."

" Speeches, everyone! My Artie wants to say something" Linda's voice broke the tiny glimpse into your past, your husband's soft voice only reserved for you, free from demands, from the constant bickering that had taken over your daily life.

"Y/N, wait..." His reaching hand held onto the tips of your fingers, backing away to join the happy couple as Tommy's breathy sighs followed you, his change in mood confusing you enough to put up your guard in fear that his unexpected move was just another calculated step in his unwinnable game of toing and froing with your emotions.

Was Tommy finally done? Too tired to fight?

 " 'ere's to Arthur and Linda" everyone drew a breath as John's tipsy speech came to its highly anticipated end. His waving hand, gesturing a toast to the happy couple, seeing the last of his gin at the feet of Linda's emmaculate heels.

Too much joy, too much happiness for any Shelby family member to endure, John was not the only guest guzzling down buckets worth of alcohol to see themselves through the quiet evening of judgemental stares from church folk with glowing hallows sitting above their saintly heads. 

"Right, yeh...thanks John boy" Arthur's twitching moustache and gangly legs rose from his seat only for his brother to pipe up with another string of words he'd have heard. 

"One last thing, yeh" he clapped his hands together as you felt the gentlemen that had been lingering close to you all night scoot along the plush settee next to you. A move that had you slipping half of your seat away from his unwarranted attention you no longer sought out to irritate your husband with. 

"May yous two one day 'ave the love of your hosts tonight. Alright lads, have at it. Bottoms up!" your heart raced at Johns drunken speech, watching him bring his empty glass up to his lips as your cheeks reddened with embarrassment at your and Tommy's contradicting relationship being made a highlight of the evening.

" Right John, let's get you some water" Ada hurried to her rambling brother, ushering him away from over indulging himself in anymore of Tommy's cellar full of booze as she mouthed her silent apologies to you.

" Never have I seen a love like that. It breaks my bloody heart, Ada. Breaks me 'art!" John's passionate speech continued as your welling eyes drifted up to the pining pare of your husband's and the impact your brother-in-law's unexpected words had mutually effected you both.

" Yes, we're all very heartbroken. Now, shut up" you heard the last of Ada's motherly tone drift from the room as one of Linda's guests took it upon themselves to drone out the awkward silence with an equally awkward, droning hym to top off the disastrous evening.

"The darkness deepens Lord, with me abide. When other helpers fail and comforts flee..." 

Head downcast, you let your tears fall into your lap as the singing commenced, desperately trying to hide your seeping emotions and the slit in your dress with fumbling fingers as you glanced up at Tommy gesturing you with a tilt of his head to join him, to let him comfort you.

But with a downfall of tears worthy of the storm battering against the windows from outside, you fled from your seat to the empty confides of your foyer as Tommy lept up after you.

"Wher...where are you going?" the man that had hounded you all evening followed in suit, furious his intended fuck for night was getting away as Tommy shot his trusted friend Dogs a silent command to deal with the unwelcome guest until he'd checked on you. 

" Are you a gambling man?" Johnny's chesire grin and looping arm wrapped around the gentleman's shoulders, guiding him out of Arrow Houses back door down to its vast landscape, and woody end. 

" Five shillings here, says you won't be able to outrun..." the rules of Dogs game drifted outside with his steady steps into the night sky, until the faint shrieks of a scream could be heard amongst the improtu singing from within the warmth of your home. 

Letting yourself fall into bed, you buried your head in your pillow as the soft click of the door closed and the dwindling sounds of the party faded out to Tommy's body settling itself next to you on the plush covers. 

" Hey shh, c'mere" he pulled you into his chest, your reluctance rapidly fading as you nestled your cheek against his body. Needing the gentle side of your husband he'd let free for the evening to soothe the pang of heartache you felt, for the memories of the love you shared that had resurfaced after John's blundering speech.

" Bloody John, eh?" his chest rose with a chuckle, lacing his fingers in your hair as he inched his body closer to you when a stifled sob left your throat.

" I'm tired, Tommy. I'm so tired of everything" you sniffed, pawing at the cascade of unstoppable tears streaming down your cheeks with frustration as your husband gently lifted your chin to him. 

" I know, darling" his voice echoed the sentiments you felt as he took over from your shakey hands, and gently wiped the pools of sadness from your lashes. 

Eyes gazing longingly into each others, Tommy bet against any rejection you'd see his ego take another dramatic fall with, and pressed a chase kiss to your lips as you pulled your head away. 

" Stop. Just stop ..." he sighed, turning you back to face him as his fingers glided down your neck, drawing you in with his tender touch. 

" I love you" his nose brushed against yours as his eyes fluttered shut, hands gently squeezing at your body with his mouth agape with anticipation. 

" Don't say you don't either" he swallowed back, fingers trailing under the curves of your breasts as he let out a breathy moan.

" I don't" you let the last of your tears fall from your cheeks as you abruptly turned your back to him, pushing his needy hands away. 

" You're lying" he huffed, letting his head fall back against the silk cushion, arm rested above the lengths of his hair as he brushed along the bar of frustration across his brow. 

" So those tears didn't mean anything then, eh? " he abruptly turned to slot his body behind you, lips kissing along your neck as he burrowed his hand under the cleavage of your dress, cupping your breast in his hand with a squeeze. 

Eyes shooting open, you clawed at the bed sheets as a surge of pleasure rushed through your body, head dizzy with the image of your husband gently thrusting himself into your clothed body in the reflection of your bedroom window. 

" Say it, Y/N. Say you love me, say you still want me, need me" his voice moaned with urgency as his eyes flew up to yours in the weathered glass.

"I don't..." Your voice hitched in a pitiful attempt to lie through your feelings as you pushed back to meet his straining erection pressed against your body. 

In one swift movement, Tommy ripped the front of your dress, exposing your body for him to see in your shared reflection as your hand flew to his thigh, nails digging through the tailored fabric. 

" Lies, all lies" he hissed, encouraged by the sweet sounds of your whimpers he'd longed to hear again. " Say it. Say it so we can forget about it all, about everything" 

" I..." you bit your bottom lip, desperately trying to repress the strangled moan he was adamant on coaxing from you as he rolled his thumb around your stiffened nipple. 

" I love you..." your voice cracked, eyes opening to the sudden feeling of your husband's hands coming to a stop as you stared back with teary eyes at him in the backdrop of the starry skies, reflecting your bodies in the window of your bedroom. " I never stopped...never"

Flipping you onto your back, Tommy's lips crashed onto yours in a seering kiss of passion, ridding you of what was left of your clothes and the suit that had him seperating himself from the heat of your body. 

Hips snapping into you with each carefully positioned thrust, Tommy was adamant on making you forget, adamant on fucking you until he was convinced of your admission, until his paranoia let him believe it. 

"No more fucking divorce, eh?" He groaned, pushing his throbbing cock into the depths of you as his body rippled with pleasure. 

"No more separate rooms" his snapping hips sped up, causing a string of muffled moans to leave your swollen lips as you let yourself be free of the stress he'd induced.

"No more, Y/N. Say it?" He brought your legs up against his sweaty chest, lifting your lower body of the bed as he thrusted into you with abandon. Muscled arms straining, face scrunched as he desperately restrained himself from falling over the edge without an answer.

"Fuck...say it, sweetheart" He breathed heavily on the edge of blissful defeat as you lost yourself in the intensity of the moment. Both pining for each other, to feel at one with another like nothing had happened, like the many months worth of distress and arguing hadn't seperated you. 

" No more...no more!" your head flew back to your cushion, hands grabbing at the sheets as he brought you to a heated ecstasy of pleasure, spilling months worth of longing into you with a strangled grunt as he threw his head back in relief. 

Giving up, giving in. In that moment, not a thought or regret was spent caring. Tangled emotions and misplaced promises would be dealt with tomorrow. But for now, all you wanted was to feel your husband, be at one with him enough to let the crushing pain of his demands slip by.

Pulling you into his lap, Tommy brushed his tongue against yours as he reached between your sweating bodies to grab hold of his hardening cock, pulling you down onto him as his fiery breath bristled against your ear and he made his intentions known for the night.

"Again" 

" And these flowers I can pick?" Your daughter skipped alongside you as you made your way down to the gardens. 

" Yes, once they've bloomed, you can pick all of them. Every, single, one" you bent down to her little frame, sending her a playful wink as she ran off with an excited shriek. 

Keeping a watchful eye on your daughter as she collected every mismatch stick she could find through the treeline to border her very own rose garden, your hand slipped across your stomach, hugging your body with a blissful smile as you recounted the passionate evening you had spent with Tommy last night.

" Mummy, we have moles!" Your daughter's voice alerted you to her discovery as you pulled yourself from your heated thoughts. " Fat ones!" 

" Elsie!" You called back, weaving yourself through the towering trees, treading carefully along the woodlands grassy bedding, when a shining gold cufflink caught your eye.  

" Mummy, come look!" She excitedly shouted as you bent down to the curious object out of place amongst the woody surroundings, it's ruby encrusted focal point sparking a hazy memory within you. " They must be giants!" 

"Giant moles, are you..." You laughed only to grab her by the hand and pull her back when you came face to face with the three heaps of mud in a line next to each other. 

"Here mummy, daddy's" she gave you the matching cufflink she'd found on top of the freshly unearthed mountain, assuming the small piece of jewellery could belong to no one else but her father. 

" Elsie....come" your eyes widened, pulling her away from what was not mole hills but graves. Three graves, each with distingualble shades of dirt, in a haunting timeline of murder that had stretched over many days, if not weeks. 

The officer. The businessman. Unheard of since their encounters with you, your horrified eyes looked at the growing graveyard, convinced of who lay beneath each plot and their enforcers muddy boots, and remarks that trailed themselves back to their murder scene, when the clouds cleared your fogged memory about the small trinkets nestled within your palm. The gentlemen...

Hands clutching the cufflinks piercing against your reddening skin, your welling eyes unable to blink through the terror you felt had you pacing up the hill with shaky legs as your daughter ran ahead. 

"Daddy!" she lept into the arms of Tommy making his way down to meet you with a content smile, body and soul free of his sins.

" Everything ok, darling?" he pressed a tender kiss to your lips as your stance stiffened, hand releasing the cufflinks from behind you back into the grassy lawn as your shakey voice answered...

" Perfect" 

 

Next Part

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@strangeobsessed @ttae-yong @lemonwithstupidity @lindsay00000 @mischievouslittlecreature

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[surielstea]

Paranoid Parent

Based on this request!

Pairing: Azriel x Pregnant!Reader

Summary: Azriel’s scared of a microwave— and other things that might harm his pregnant wife.

Warnings: Drabble , pure fluff

1.2k words

Azriel has always been a light sleeper. But ever since you've been pregnant you were sure the male was entirely nocturnal.

Especially now that you've reached the third trimester. You'd get up to use the bathroom and find his side of the bed empty, on nights when you had the energy you'd venture through the house and usually find him in his office, always hunched over a book or his computer, glasses hanging off the tip of his nose as he stares at you with pure and utter concern.

Tonight, however, Azriel had slept the entire night. His large arm snaked around your waist to have his hand on your stomach protectively, your own hand atop his. His touch always made the baby relax, the kicking would cease whenever his warm hand cradled you.

However, that didn't stop you from having to use the bathroom every ten minutes. You released a silent groan, cursing Azriel for giving you twins as you clambered from the warm bed, from Azriel's open arms— and trudged toward the bathing chambers.

After exiting the restroom you noticed the sun peeking over the horizon, indicating the time. You released a long, frustrated breath— knowing you wouldn't be able to go back to sleep.

You look to Azriel, who was soundly asleep. You wondered how you didn't wake him up when shifting beneath him, supposing he took a sleeping medication of some sort.

You decide not to bother him and exit your spare bedroom. You walk past the nursery painted in a soft, pastel purple with two wooden cribs pushed against the wall. You were nervous about having twins— but Azriel, ever the researcher, seemed beyond anxious. Which oddly put you at ease, every insane thought he had left you saying, "It's fine, there's nothing to worry about." Which helped the both of you.

You walked into the kitchen, craving something spicy. You gnawed at your bottom lip as you searched the pantry for anything with some sort of tang. After about three minutes of scrounging, you found a bag of forgotten chips in the back. You smiled giddily, exiting the pantry as you opened the bag and kicked the pantry door shut behind you, deciding you wouldn't need to put this bag back by the time you were done with it.

You stuffed your mouth with the delectable chips, groaning in pleasure audibly because it's everything you craved at the moment.

Azriel's hand roamed your empty space, finding only warm sheets in your absence. He pats the space like he doesn't quite believe you're not there. When the realization hits him he springs up, eyes widening as he stares at your ruffled sheets. He didn't waste time in getting up, springing from the bed, eyes analyzing every crack and crevice of the wall like you've somehow disappeared into one of them.

He strides out of the room, his steps rushed as he pads down the hall.

He skids to a stop when he spots you in the kitchen, heating a pot of coffee in the microwave.

He releases a sigh of relief and walks towards you, wrapping an arm around your waist.

You jump at the sudden contact, not hearing your husband enter the room. "You're so quiet, detective," You hum and he murmurs something softly into your shoulder but it’s inaudible. You turn around to look up at him. "Come back to bed." He pouts and a smile spreads over your features. "I can't sleep," You shrug. "You need your rest." His brows crease worriedly and you place your hands on his fidgeting ones. "I'll take a nap in a few hours." You reassure and all he can do is nod in reply.

You pivot on your heel, reaching for the bag of chips. "You want one?" You turn toward the male, offering him a chip. His eyes widen and he goes ghostly white. "How much of these have you eaten?" He grabs the entire bag from you and your brows crease. "Uh," you look down at the bag. "Most of them." You shrug and he frowns, clearly panicked. "Should I not have or something?" You tilt your head. "It's just— I read this thing about how spicy foods might result in blinding the babies." He murmurs and a giggle bubbles from my chest. "What's funny?" He blinks and you shake your head in disbelief. "You read too much," you murmur, reaching for the bag and he swerves, not letting you have it. "Az c'mon," you sigh, your hand coming to your stomach reflectively. "I promise whatever you've been reading is a myth," you reassure, reaching for the bag again, and this time he lets you have it. "What happened to my husband?" You bring a hand to his cheek. "My very skeptical husband." You correct and he frowns. "I just want everything to go well," He explains and you give him a saddened smile. "It won't be perfect, but everything will be fine if you stay by me, okay?" You rub your thumb along his sharp cheekbone and he releases a sigh with a nod.

The microwave beeps and you turn away from him, reaching toward the handle of the microwave before he grabs your hand. "Wait," He calls and your brows crease, before your shoulders slump and you realize what he's so paranoid over. "Az, c’mon." You sigh, craning your neck to look back at him tiredly. “Well, sometimes, microwaves can leak radiation.” He lets go of your hand and scratches his arm nervously. You square your features, staring directly at him. “I won’t explode if I open this, I promise.” You place your free hand on his bicep. You open the door of the microwave and he flinches, but nothing else happens.

A small smile comes to your face, both hands coming to his cheeks as you release a soft chuckle. “Why are you so worried Az?” You rub the tops of his cheeks with your thumbs. “You’re too smart to believe in any of this stuff.” You drone and he sighs. “I just worry,” He shrugs and you shake my head, rising onto the tips of your toes, and press a kiss to his lips, which he reciprocates by dipping down, hands coming to my jaw.

“I’m fine,” you whisper, my forehead pressing against his. “It’s alright, okay?” Your hands come to his and you lean into his touch, showing him that you’re just fine. “Okay.” He nods with creased brows. A smile curves your lips and you press a kiss to his lips again, before backing away as quick as you came. “You’re so protective.” You roll your eyes and back away from his hold— which he reluctantly lets you go from. You reach into the chip bag and pop a few into your mouth. “I promise the flavor dust won’t kill me,” you mumble, licking your fingers clean. “The seasoning?” He tilts his head with an inquisitive look and you pale, removing your thumb pad from your mouth and nodding. A genuine smile breaks out across his features, mirroring your own.

“I love you,” He says incredulously, pulling you into his big arms and peppering your face with kisses as you fight him off.

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[some-bunniii]

Even the Devil Mourns

・❥ You awake one night to find your husband, Lucifer Morningstar, missing from your side. You go out to search, only to see him distraught in a pool of tears.

x: reader is g/n, no use of y/n. more luci angst popped into my head yall, sorry not sorry

~ 3.2k words

Warnings: Angst!! Hellish themes! Descriptions of death & Satanic rituals ft. human sacrifices!

You awoke suddenly, sweat beading on your forehead and heart pounding in your chest. The silken, satin sheets slid across your naked back as you stirred. The cool breeze across your exposed skin sent goosebumps up your spine.

What time was it? What was that sound that had pulled you from your beauty sleep?

Your face was still buried into the cool pillow beneath you. Its plush, velvety touch beckoning you back into slumber. You snuggled deeper into the pillow’s embrace, your pulse slowing as you began to drift off. 

And then, you heard it again. Echoing from the cracked doorway across the bedroom, emanating from somewhere down the hallway. A stifled sound, like someone holding in a large intake of breath. You shifted your face off of the pillow slightly, straining your ears. 

Sleep was slowly ebbing from your mind, as you stirred underneath the sheets once more. The strange noise piqued your interest as you pulled the covers away from your face, the room beginning to feel unusually cold.

It was night, you guessed, since your eyelids were still bathed in darkness. Usually, the morning light would peak from the drapes that covered the large glass panes that bordered your bedroom. The rays of light would bask your bed sheets in a red glow, and you would have nestled your face closer against the soft, supple skin of your beloved. His arm lifting to snake around your waist, pulling you closer. Hot breath tickling against your lashes as he placed a drowsy kiss on your temple.

Your beloved.

Lucifer.

Where was he? You couldn’t feel the warmth that seemed to seep from his very being, enveloping you like a gentle embrace without even touching the man. You couldn't feel Lucifer beside you at all, not even the weight of his figure on the mattress. 

The fallen angel always had some part of his body against yours. Whether that was his head snuggled against your chest, or his legs wrapped around yours. There was always some sort of contact with Lucifer, no matter the time of day. 

His fingers always seemed to graze against yours as he handed you another one of his candy apple creations. The feeling of his hand resting on the small of your back protectively, as you took a drunken, wobbly step backward as the two of you enjoyed another romantic evening filled with laughter and soft whispers.

But, now. There was none of that. For the first time since you began sharing a bed, Lucifer wasn’t here to greed your tired form. Which made you uneasy, and you lifted yourself slowly from the mattress, renewed energy feeding your tired muscles as you rose to a sitting position.

Twisting your legs, you pivoted until your feet floated over the edge of the bed, before lowering them to the ground. Your skin met the cold, firm wooden floor beneath as you inhaled a deep breath. Sitting there for a few moments, you allowed yourself a little more time to wake, before shifting your weight to your legs and rising.

Your hands reached for the hanger beside your bedside table, a dark red that called out to you with warmth. The thick, plush garment enveloped your fingers as you pulled it from the hook. Wrapping the robe around your semi-nude figure, you quickly shuffled your feet into the fuzzy yellow duck slippers neatly tucked beneath the hanger.

Your eyes were slowly adjusting to the darkness of the room, the only source of light teasing you from the doorway. The door was opened only an inch or two, but the familiar orange glow that flickered from the hallway still reached your bedroom even from the lounge. 

Reaching an arm down, you let your fingers gently graze against the marble surface of your bedside table, until your pink landed on the small item of value. Its smooth, metal surface slid against your finger as it nestled around your digit.

Your wedding ring, something you never parted without. Even in a nightly search like this one, where you weren’t sure what exactly you were going to find outside of the safe confines of your chamber. Lucifer had a ring just like yours, but in the darkness, you couldn’t see whether he had taken it with him when he departed.

Snaking your arms together, you held them closely to your chest as you crossed the distance, using your foot to quietly peel the door farther open. It creaked quietly, and you grimaced at the noise. Turning slightly, you shimmied through the gap, the soles of your slippers meeting the carpet in the hallway. 

You turned your head towards the orange glow, that flickered around the corner. The pitiful noises beckoned you as you tiptoed across the corridor, past the large paintings hung across the walls. Scenes of rushing, deep blue waters cascading over glittering rocks as it fell into a pool of sunlit waves. 

On the edge of the large waterfall, was a mother grizzly bear and her cubs, their small frames hanging from their mother’s legs in playful banter. The large bear’s caramel-brown coat stuck out from the sharp, gray edges of the rocks standing tall behind her. 

Her snout was lifted towards the cascading water, her mouth parted to show sharp, white teeth as the shadows of long, pink fish leaped from the edge of the falls, their bodies barely grazing her jaws as she snapped at their forms. 

You weren’t particularly aware of where that painting had come from, but it was a very beautiful scene of life on Earth, a very rare type of piece to find down in Hell.

There was one, that you favored over them all, of you and Lucifer. It depicted a midnight-red sky, the large pentagram glowing above the two figures on a large balcony. Vines snaked around the pillars on each side of the terrace, blue and purple flowers blooming across their green, prickly skin. The familiar face on the left, a pearlescent glow against the red backdrop, wore a playful look on his features. One hand holding a wine glass, the other snug against the figure on the right, you. 

You stood beside Lucifer, a large smile plastered across your face as the two of you leaned comfortably against the tall marble balcony railing. It seemed like the two of you were at some kind of party, perhaps one of those annual meetups all the Sins and friends have away from the prying eyes of Hell. Lucifer’s attire was a more casual fit for a king, his favorite red-and-white striped waistcoat, over that clean, white dress shirt. You were also adorned in an eye-catching outfit that displayed your power and statue of royalty, without making you the center of attention.

The two of you looked so happy, as you leaned into each other with lips curved into goofy grins. For being the highest-ranking figures in Hell, the two of you looked so natural and carefree in this moment. A moment you cherished every time you glanced at the portrait hanging comfortably along the wall during your walks between rooms.

Unfortunately, the light illuminating from the end of the hall wasn’t strong enough for you to get a good glimpse at it, as you neared the corner. You planted your back against the wall, peeking your head slightly out of the edge. You couldn’t see the fireplace from here, but the sound of wood crackling as it split from the flames echoed through the room.

You could hear the strange noises much clearer now, a shaky breath followed by quiet, soothing murmurs. Sniffling, before another one of those stifled sobs. 

Your breath quickened, muscles tensing as you listened for another moment. The voice intermixed with the sounds was awfully familiar, and you couldn’t understand what would make the owner so distraught.

You calmed your beating heart, before pivoting to stand in the entryway of the lounge, your gaze landing on the figure curled on a piece of furniture. Their side faced you, and you partially see their features, illuminated by the orange glow of the flames.

Across the room, was Lucifer. He sat on top of a dark red ottoman, only a few feet from the fireplace as he stared into it, lost in thought. He wore his white dress shirt loosely against his figure, the buttons partially undone in the front, exposing his collarbone. Lucifer’s arms were wrapped around his legs, and his knees were hugged to his chest. His head limply lay against one of his kneecaps, his head out-turned towards you. 

It wasn’t until you approached him, and your footsteps creaked against the floor, did the sullen man perk up from his ball of comfort. Tears glistened against his pale features, and his quivering lip curved into a shocked frown. The man’s disheveled hair bounced softly as he lifted his head, those platinum-blonde curls practically glowing like candlelight.

“Oh, Honey!” Lucifer gasped, his head whipping to face the opposite direction of you. His hand rubbed across his face hastily as he straightened himself atop the sofa. He fixed his loose collar, clearing his throat as he fixed his posture. “I’m sorry, did I wake you? You should just go back to sleep, I don’t want to bother you.”

“It’s hard to sleep when you see your husband like this at one in the morning,” you responded, taking a few steps closer. Your tone was firm, prompting him to speak more on the subject. 

Lucifer stayed silently, the only noise between the two of you were soft pops and crackles from the burning wood. Fear gnawed at you watching him ignore your words. Your husband always tried to hide his emotions at first, masking them behind a smile while he let his mind drift off to such dark thoughts. Except, with you, he always came undone and spilled the beans like a teenage girl at a sleepover.

But, your presence was not breaking him just yet, as he averted his gaze. In the faint light, you swore his fingers were shaking just a tad against the fabric of his shirt. Should you prod him further? There was no way you were going to leave him to drown in whatever sorrows he was battling right now.

“It happened again,” Lucifer finally breathed out after a moment. His fingers harshly squeezed the sleeves of his dress shirt, his chest shuddering as he inhaled another shaky breath. His eyes were still trained on the flames licking against the metal barrier, as he refused to meet your gaze.

You stood there, your arms crossed against your chest as you shivered. The heat of the fireplace felt so welcoming to your tired bones, but the sight of Lucifer sullen upon the ottoman kept your feet frozen in place.

“What happened again?” You whispered, taking a step forward, careful not to cross any boundary that could set your husband off further. This was a side of him you rarely saw. Yes, he was an emotional being, but the distress Lucifer was exuding was making you more nervous after every second he remained silent.

“I was summoned, to one of those… rituals.” Lucifer spat out that last word with disgust, a growl underlying his tone.

You tensed. Oh, one of those.

Since Lucifer fell, and became the King of Hell, his soul was chained to the realm. Unable to cross to Heaven or Earth, even with another’s magic. The fallen angel was stuck, cursed to watch the cruelty and hate that sprung from his past actions.

Except, through the slaughter of a newly-born lamb, could he enter into the mortal plane. Only to answer the call of whoever had landed the killing blow. Something about being punished to only view your creation through ‘the blood of the innocent’ or some stupid Heavenly shit like that. You never asked him what transpired during those summonings, and he never spoke of it.

There was one kind of summoning, that you knew of, that was different from the rest. Cults that worshipped demons and monsters, perpetuated suffering in exchange for a supposed blessing from the fiery pits below. Lucifer always seemed… off, after those times.

“I always feel it, before it happens,” your husband started, his hand raking across his scalp as he pulled the tangled blonde mess behind his forehead. “Like a tugging at my shirt, but from deep inside, like my soul. I didn’t want to disturb you, so I ran to the bathroom. Just as I was pulled through the portal to Earth.”

Those images flashed through Lucifer’s mind as he spoke. Large, crumbling pillars dot the perimeter. Torches circled a thick, wooden stake planted into the ground. Satanic symbols were woven into posts and burned into the ground around the grassy, hidden clearing.

A bloodied figure lay limp against its surface, rope wrapping around their thin frame as it kept them in place. Flames licked at their feet, the stake beginning to catch fire as they writhed in pain from the intense heat.

Hooded. figures stood in the shadows, chanting some awful, ancient tune. Asking for blessings and powers Lucifer couldn’t even grant them.

“It was a girl, I don’t know how old. But, she was young, not even full grown,” Lucifer started, his voice shaky as the words slipped painfully from his tongue, “When I got there, she was already burning. Screaming in agony, pleading for mercy.”

You grimaced, trying not to picture the scene. The metallic tang of blood that no doubt had permeated the air. The stench of burning flesh, as it sizzled off its owner. 

Bile rose in your throat, threatening to spill from your mouth before you held it in. Leaving you to wonder how many times Lucifer had witnessed such a thing to have better composure to the scene than you.

“Do you know who she cried out to during her last moments?” Lucifer turned to you, his features glowing as his eyes glistened with tears. A bitter smile bloomed on his lips, a dark chuckle escaping his throat. “God! She begged Him to save her! To strike those hooded men down and end her suffering.” 

You said nothing, instead taking a few steps closer to your husband's quivering form, only a few feet from him now as Lucifer spoke with a pained tone.

“Do you know what ended her suffering? The flames that ate away her skin.” He snarled, his eyes turning blood-red as he pivoted towards you. You reeled back, your heartbeat quickening at his bared teeth.

“There was nothing I could—nothing I can do,” He cried to you, his tone wobbly, desperate. As if he was trying to convince you that was the truth, that he didn’t let such terrible actions go unpunished purposely. “I’m always too late when they call for me. Too much damage already.”

Tears pricked at your eyes as you listened to him. You would have never had that kind of idea in your head, you knew Lucifer wasn’t that twisted of a man. 

“And imagine, when those bastards finally kick the bucket, they’ll come here,” Lucifer spat hoarsely, venom dripping from his words, “another citizen that I’m expected to protect and rule over. I’m expected to care about, as King. What a cruel joke Heaven has played on me.”

Lucifer sat there for a moment, breathing heavily. His horns jutted out of his head as he fumed silently at himself. Those tears threatened to spill from his pretty eyes once more as he lifted a hand with an anguished growl, and Lucifer raked his claws down his face. 

You gasped, watching blood spill from the small gashes across his cheek, glowing sickly against the blazing light from the fireplace.

“Don’t do that!” You begged, lacing your fingers with his, pulling his hand to your chest as you kneeled before him. The golden liquid spread across your fingertips from his damp claws, and your face screwed into anguish, “Don’t hurt yourself, none of this is your fault. Absolutely none..”

Your finger rubbed against a small, smooth surface on Lucifer’s hand. Glancing down, your eyes followed the glint of his wedding ring as it shined in the basking light. Your heart fluttered, and you sighed.

Slowly, you lifted your other hand to his face. Lucifer leaned back slightly, hesitant at your touch. He broke a moment later, squeezing his eyes shut as he brushed his cheek against your open hand. Your nails grazed lightly against his skin, the damp feeling only driving your own tears.

“Do you know what it feels like, to watch innocent people be burned alive to please some sick, twisted version of me?” Lucifer whispered into your palm, tears pooling against your skin as he blinked them away.

You pursued your lips, the agony on his face clenching your heart tightly.

“Those defenseless men and women, sentenced to death simply for theatrics.” Lucifer whimpered, and you slid your hand from his fingers to rest against his other cheek. 

“All those children—”

Lucifer choked on the last word, a sob escaping his throat as he struggled to contain the shakes racking across his body. 

In a swift motion, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling the fallen angel flush against you. This time, there was no fuss from him as he collapsed into your hold. 

You held him, as he sobbed. Painful, heartbreaking cries of grief. As Lucifer mourned the lives that were destroyed in his name, for an image that didn’t exist. 

You shook against him, ceasing the noises that threatened to escape your aching throat. You only bit your lip harshly, tasting blood drip flood your tastebuds. You ignored the pain blooming in your mouth, staying silent as Lucifer began to calm in your grasp.

All because he wanted mankind to be able to express themselves outside of Heaven’s strict rules and suffocating influence.

“I gave them a chance to do so much more,” he whispered against your skin. His head lay limply against your shoulder as he sobbed quietly. “And, they fucked it up.”

“Please don’t cry,” you whispered hoarsely into his hair, inhaling the deep scent of apples and cinnamon as you hugged him tightly. “I’m here for you, as always. You don’t need to hide your grief from me.”

“I know, I'm sorry.” He replied quietly, his fingers rubbing soothing circles against your upper back. The weight against you grew heavier, as he fell completely limp against your hold, his hand coming down to rest against your waist. 

“I’m just so tired.” He muttered into the crook of your neck, and you pulled him closer.

“Sleep, I’m right here. Just rest your eyes, for me.” You begged your lover.

Lucifer nodded into your skin, before you felt him curl farther into you. You nestled closer into his hair, your back against the ottoman now, as you let the heat of the fire dry your soaked cheeks.

Oh, how cruel Heaven truly is, to give such a fate to such a loving soul. 

And now, you’d make sure he would never feel so alone in his pain again. A silent promise to your husband, as you drifted into bliss-less sleep.

YOU GUYS. this idea had me by the chokehold suddenly after work, and i wrote it in one sitting, my ass hurts yall 😂

also, don’t worry, that alastor fic is still coming! i’m about halfway done, so stay tuned for that next :)

what do you think? let me know your thoughts! <3

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[sashi-ya]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ エロチックトバー２０２４> MDNI / EXPLICIT CONTENT

STICKY HONEYMOON 🍼 SABO X F! READER ＫINKTOBER DAY 9: CREAMPIE

🐙 requested by: Anonymous. Hey! 🎀 May I request Sabo(OP) x female reader for the 9th day, please? I'm not sure if I can ask for this, but let it be in the style of Fluff with a bit of spice, just like our blond. Thank you and wishing you inspiration! ⚠️ tw: mdni. explicit content. as requested it is fluffy and smutty 💕 a couple of newlyweds enjoying their honeymoon with loads of sex. cream pie. masturbation. and so much lovemaking. 🐙 wc: 1,1 k // kinktober 24 masterlist // join the taglist

Arms like snakes all around your body. Sabo’s golden locks grazing your nape, his nose buried on your spine. Warm breath wetting the space in between your shoulder blades. His fiery hands hanging on your belly, hardness against your ass… 

“Nmhg…” Sabo mutters, as he inhales the scent of your skin. It is late, very late. Night has fallen some hours ago,  with bodies sore from the day… you’ve chosen your honeymoon to be an adventurous one. 

“Mh? What is it, babe?” you ask, lifting your ass a little bit more so that you can feel his erection growing bigger against you. Being the little spoon with your now husband, is all you want for the night. 

Sabo knows, exactly, what you are doing. And excitement, lust and need turns a little flame into a big fire… 

“I love you…” he murmurs, planting a peck on your shoulder. His hips begin to move; it feels as if he was dry humping on against your buttocks. “I still can’t believe you have finally become my wife…” 

You smile against the pillow, a beam so big can’t even fit your face. Sabo can be this and even more romantic when it comes to you. 

“I love you too, my sweet husband…” you whisper back, passing your hand to the back, caressing his hip side with a loving sexy graze. Such graze, then, turns into your nails clawing into his milky skin… and that, to him, it only means one simple thing; go ahead Sabo-kun, fuck me! 

Needless to say, both lay naked on silky sheets. Already sweat imbued fabric, as it’s been putting up with nights of hot love making sessions. And tonight, it won’t be the exception.

“What you want, mh? You want me deep inside you again?” Sabo asks, whispering right into your ear, biting your lobe right after. 

You giggle, once again your nails carve marks on his flesh. Pulling him even closer to your ass, you can even feel how his hard sex slides in between your cheeks. 

“Deep, yes. Very deep, babe… plus, this time, I want you to fill me up with your cum” you request; the intimacy of your relationship has stripped you from any shame whatsoever. 

Sabo grunts, there is only so much a man can take. He can be strong, but those words are simply a detrimental move you have just made. 

 His right hand slides down your waist up to your lower belly and then to your sex. His fingers wander through your anatomy, separating your folds just enough to reach your clit. Sabo finds those lands as expected; wet, more than dampened. He gloats, he knows his dick will slide so deliciously in and out, and the sound of every ram will be music to his ears. 

He begins tracing circles on your pleasure button, as his free hand reaches for your left breast. Erect, hard, sensitive, that’s how he finds it everything he touches on your body. 

You react to his pinching and massaging, whimpering low, jolting every time he stimulates it all at the same time. His sex, as well, hasn’t been left out of this intercourse prelude; it, by itself and powered by increasing hardness and throbbing pulses, moves in the search of your entrances. Coated by your honeys, that have already wet the inner side of your thighs, and mixing with his own precum, finds enough lubrication to finally meet with your fleshy folds. 

“Fuck me, please…” his masturbation can be perfect, but the heat growing stronger inside you and walls that ache to be stretched get the best of you. “Fuck me, Sabo… I want you so deep inside of me…” 

You didn’t need to ask, and still Sabo enjoys such pleading like a trophy, like a medal. Ego bursting; ego and shaft exploding. 

“Are you sure you want me inside you, my sweet wife?” he asks, enjoying a little bit more how your hips move on their own, desperate to feel him pumping into you. 

“Dear husband, if you don’t fuck me right now…” you playfully -and perhaps even a little cranky- threaten him. 

The blond revolutionary laughs sweetly; there is nothing more he could ever want now than to fuck you as you ask. And so, he does… 

On its own, with a simple forth hip movement, his sex finally penetrates you. It takes him no effort, as it seems your body has been made for his, and his has been made for yours. Truly soul, mind and flesh mates. 

He hugs your waist from behind, ramming into you so deeply and violently, exactly as you like it. 

The back of your head fall on his shoulder, reaching with your mouth his. Million kisses that deepen the more the in and out rhythm increases. It lets the commissure of your lips shiny, erratic tongues sometimes can’t be precise, and the need for oxygen also makes it even more messy. 

And just as predicted, your juices both mix and let him move so perfectly in sync with you, and the sound of the slapping skins play a sinful ambrosial melody. But it is what abandons your lips from time to time what makes it even magical; whispered, breath, inhaled “I love yous” fill the room, the love nest you both chose to consummate your marriage. 

Your milking walls, your spasming muscles, your moans and whines… 

“Don’t stop… don’t… stop… I’m close, please-”  “ngh… not… stopping….”

Your pleads. His grunts. The scent of sex... 

“Were… you- for real? Inside?”  “Fill me the fuck up Sabo, I beg you please… I am… about to… fuck…” 

Sabo takes a deep breath; he needs to get ready; he is about to burst and your core to be flooded with his relief. Sabo is desperate, your climax keeps milking him with no mercy, it feels like you are going to drown his cum from him and he can’t stop it…

“Take it all inside babe… I want to make you so fucking full” he grunts, giving the final thrust to reach for the deepest possible spot.

You can’t even talk, you are just still orgasming, still trembling, savouring the incipient pulses of Sabo’s climax. His belly becomes hard, his arms lock you against his dick; there is no scape now, you are trapped there to be overfilled with his seed. 

Seed so hot it feels like a burning fire taking over your womb, getting to every little corner of your anatomy, going in with pressure as Sabo pushes your lower belly down… oh, Sabo-kun… it feels like fire, it fills so good. 

“I love you, my sweet husband… thank you for the treat” “We are just starting, babe… you are still not even remotely full of it” 

Taglist of amazing babes: @kwnblack @terrabear2003 @eyes-ofhell @votaeto @cokou @seoul-is-a-dream @tinydonkeysforlife @appalost @themessedupsonata @adamsfanficstash @ariesbbytings @animesnowstorm @lenablack9919 @anothersoulless 💖🍓

[smashing-teacups]

My very dear friend (who is so grumpy that J&C hijacked her brain again when she wanted a break 🤣) @theawkwardterrier tagged me in an invite to share a section of one of my WIPs. So hey, how about a peek at an upcoming chapter of Atonement? 👀

______

In the second month, they began their respective job searches in earnest.

On that particular front, Claire had an undeniable advantage: there was a terrible nursing shortage throughout the UK, and more job postings than she knew what to do with. She had enough experience to be accepted at practically every bedside position, and so she had the ability to be selective.

A very fortunate state to find herself in, she found out rather quickly, as there were a number of positions that… well, positions she wasn’t sure she would be best suited for anymore.

Wound care, for example, was definitely out. Just reading the vague clinical expectations under the first post made her snap her laptop shut, her skin chilled and mind numb. She held Jamie from behind later that night, tears soaking her pillow as she traced the scars that had once been open flesh. The memories were as vivid as if she were living them all over again; she could see the snake of saturated pink gauze she’d pulled out of his back by the meter, watch her gloved hand depress a syringe of morphine into his IV, hear her own murmurs of reassurance as she reached wrist-deep into the cavernous wounds to begin packing them again…

So, no. Nothing with wound care.

Anything on a neurology floor was likewise out of the question. The prospect of monitoring an EEG took her right back to the endless days and nights when those incomprehensible squiggling lines were burned into her retinas, watching for any change that might signify a seizure. The ICUs in general were out for that same reason. Just the sounds alone — the non-stop beeping of monitors and IVs, the whoosh of the ventilator and hiss of suction equipment—

She couldn’t.

Her damned glass face as she scrolled the job boards must have told her husband far more than she ever would have said aloud; it didn’t take long before she woke to find a folded newspaper on the kitchen table alongside her morning coffee. Circled once, with a question mark beside it, was an advertisement from a local primary care office in town, seeking a clinic nurse.

Claire looked over the top of the paper to find Jamie watching her apprehensively, as though unsure if he’d overstepped. The moment she caught his eye, he dropped his gaze and blew on his steaming coffee. “It’d be quieter than ye’re used to,” he said around a careful sip, “but somethin’ to consider, mebbe.”

Softening with tenderness, she reached for his hand across the table. “No, it’s—it’s a good thought. Thank you. Maybe I need the quiet, I don’t know.” With a sigh, she smoothed her free hand over her face and back into her hair. “That’s just it, I don’t… I don’t know what it is I want any more.” Peering up at her husband through her lashes, she admitted with a self-deprecating smile, “Suppose I’ve just been hoping I’ll know it when I see it.”

Returning the smile so that his soft morning eyes crinkled with it, Jamie brought her knuckles to his lips. “I’m sure you will. The right job’ll find ye when it’s meant to, Sassenach. I know it.”

[lxvsxjy]

Casual dominance • n.k

Cw: afab!reader, no uses of y/n, slight suggestive remarks, husband!nanami, pet names (babe, sweetheart) not proof read (sorry)

﹥*:ꔫ:*+ﾟ﹥*:ꔫ:*+ﾟ﹥*:ꔫ:*+ﾟ﹥*:ꔫ:*+ﾟ﹥*:ꔫ:*+ﾟ

Nanami has manners, he’s very polite no matter where he is. You would’ve thought that his mannerisms would have rubbed off onto you, but that’s not what happened. You sometimes get jealous of how natural his demeanour is, he doesn’t have to remind himself not to be a bitch.

He will always remind you to fix your posture, he puts his hand on your lower back to make sure you straighten it up, he didn’t realise what effect this has on you.

He’ll hold the door open for you, anywhere you go he’ll hold the door and let you go in first. Nanami is very laid back, he’ll mostly just get angry at his work. His laid back personality makes him even more desirable in your eyes. Nanami will always look you in the eyes when you talk to him, every time. It was so sexy but it can be intimidating at some points.

Like when he gets jealous, you know. His demeanour changes and his attitude is completely different. When he invites you to a work event, he knows he’s gonna have to keep an eye on his coworkers. There has been many times where his coworkers have tried to feel you up, he knows you wouldn’t let that happen but he just can’t stand the thought of someone else touching you in that way.

Your stood next to the drinks stand as you pour yourself a glass of wine, one of Nanami’s coworkers chatting you up. To be honest you weren’t even listening to what he had to say, you scanned the room in search for your husband. Your eyes stopped on Nanami, it was clear his eyes were fixed on the bloke who was clearly trying to make a move on you.

You notice his frame began getting closer. His hands snake around your waist. “Hey sweetheart, hope I’m not interfering” his voice was stern, his eyes glared at his coworker as he spoke. “Not at all, babe” His coworker seemed to get the hint because before you knew it he was making his way over to a group of people in the corner. Nanami still felt a slight pinch of jealousy, he doesn’t know why.

The rest of the night he tried to keep his cool, for the rest of the night, staying as close as you as possible. You were leaving the event, getting into the passenger seat of his car. It was an half an hour drive, his hand rests on your inner thigh, as his other one grips the steering wheel. “I don’t think bringing you to future events is a good idea” his serious tone was intimidating, not once did he take his eyes off the road. “Why not?, did I do something wrong?” Your head turns to look at him, he bites the insides of his cheeks as he focuses on the road. “Its nothing that you did, it’s just can’t stand the way they look at you”

The jealousy in his voice was clear as day, he finally turned his head to face you for a second before turning forward again. Pulling up in the driveway he stepped out of the car walking towards the passenger door to open it for you, you let out a small thank you in response as you followed him into the house. “I think we should continue our conversation” he placed his car keys down on top of the counter, as he spoke again this time walking towards you. “I don’t appreciate how those men talk to you, hell I don’t like the way they look at you either” his voice wasn’t harsh, he was just trying to talk.. “babe it’s okay it’s not like I’d let anything happen” you spoke up, looking anywhere but his eyes. “Look at me in the eyes when I’m speaking” this was a demand, though his voice wasn’t demanding. It was sexy, seeing him all jealous.

Safe to say, he’s definitely not going to take you anywhere near his coworkers in the future

[camarocarfight]

Alastor's Bloody Valentine

Human Alastor x Reader late Valentine's Day special

Rated very mature with sexual content, murder, blood, and gore. Set in the 1930s with human characters. I suppose you could look at this as being a little Alastor back story.

Maybe there'll be a part deux?

It's kinda edited, but I got lazy and lost interest, and I just wanted to finish it. I hope all of you dear readers enjoy!

New Orleans, 1932

There was a chill in the air, carried in on a breeze that whistled through the old willow trees, and rustled their long, spindle-like branches. The trill of grasshoppers and crickets and the occasional screech of a night owl were customary of the bayou. Only interrupted by the nightly steam train, whose whistle echoed for miles until it faded like a whisper. There was no moon - only an ebony sky accompanied by its thousands of starry hosts. 

As serene as it all seemed, the bayou was one of the most dangerous places to be in 1932. Not just because of the alligators, snakes, and venomous spiders. The neighboring town was full of talk about the Louisiana serial killer, who lured their victims into the darkness of the bayou to slaughter them, leaving no trace or remains. People simply vanished, though it seemed to be mostly men of diverse age and status. Innocent and not so innocent. The most recent being a younger gentleman who had just gotten married. The papers did fail to mention that he'd nearly beaten his new wife within an inch of her life not long after the wedding, but news traveled fast. He was the thirteenth person to go missing.

With Valentine's Day came the fear of who the next victim would be. Mothers and wives kept tight leashes on their sons and husbands, and the police put in place a mandatory curfew. Temporary police sentinels were stationed on street corners, keeping watch over the streets day and night. Which subsequently made it more difficult to get to and from the only speakeasy in town. The police were happy - killing two birds with one stone. 

“Yes, ladies and gentlemen, don't let this curfew get you down. Take your gal out on the town for some swing and make the most out of your Valentine's Day. Ladies, keep your gents close, and stay safe-”

“Y’see,” Mimzy turned the cathedral radio off with a huff and crossed her arms over her voluptuous chest. “This curfew is ruinin’ everything!” 

You rolled your eyes and leaned your elbow on the bar and rested your cheek in the palm of your hand. Mimzy had been on a tangent for the last week for having to close the speakeasy. Being that it was in the basement of an old sugar mill, it was too risky to keep it running with the police snooping around. In one night, with the help of Husker, all of the liquor was moved under the cover of darkness to the crawl space of Alastor's hunting cabin deep in the bayou. The liquor would at least be safe if the police felt it necessary to search the sugar mill. The only thing they'd find would be an empty stage and bar. 

With no speakeasy, the regular meet and greet for you and all of your friends was the cabin. It was a comfortable space, at least. Alastor had used the extra money he made from his radio show to install new, polished wood floors, a nice bar, and even a loft with a decent sized bed when he would stay for the first week of hunting. It also had a decent kitchen, which was Alastor's favorite feature. As for you, Alastor made sure to give you your own bit of space. In the corner of the main room was a stone fireplace with book shelves flanking either side. The shelves were filled to the brim with books of every genre. Hanging above the fireplace was Alastor’s prized Stag - previously occupied by Alastor’s portrait from when he was in the service. You never did tell him just how creepy you found the stuffed creature. Alastor loved the hunting sport, but you appreciated wildlife as just that; alive. 

Mimzy sauntered over from the radio and sat herself on a rickety barstool, her brows pinched. “How am I gonna make money? Who knows how long this whole thing will go on for. And where's Alastor? His show ended an hour ago. His ass better not be dead too.”

You sighed and stood from your barstool to round the bar. There was a bottle of, ironic enough, Red Stag that was already open. It wasn't your first choice, but prohibition made everyone less picky. You poured yourself a generous glass, only for Mimzy to swipe it from you, and gulp it down in one swig. Your eye twitched in irritation as you glared at the woman through your lashes. The relationship between the two of you was decent enough, but as of late, she'd been grating your nerves and testing your patience. Mimzy's flamboyant personality didn’t jive well with your own in an enclosed space. You were more reserved, shy, and softly spoken. Not to mention that the cabin had always been an intimate space for you and Alastor. It didn't seem so intimate now - being that it was now shared space with Mimzy and Husker. 

“Would you like another drink before I pour my own,” you asked, your voicing clipped. 

Your head was pounding now, with a migraine blooming behind your eyes. The little grin that slid over Mimzy's lips told you that she knew exactly what she was doing. 

“Actually, Doll, I would,” she flashed you a grin with her nose wrinkling as she did so. “You're such a good friend,” Mimzy cooed and thrust her empty glass in your face. 

Your grip on the bottle of Red Stag was white knuckle, and you opened your mouth to give her a piece of your mind, but the words caught in your throat when the cabin door opened. Both you and Mimzy looked over to see Husker coming through the door with Alastor trailing behind him. Your shoulders visibly deflated when your gaze met Alastor's.

Mimzy put her glass down on the bar and threw her arms up in glee. “Alastor! I'm so glad to see you!”

“And I you,” Alastor grinned. “Thanks for holding down the fort and watching over my darling for me.”

“I don't need a babysitter,” you grumbled and nodded your head at Husker when he gave you a sympathetic smile. “Hey, Husk.”

“Cher,” Husk greeted in that deep, baritone voice. 

Alastor laughed boisterously and leaned on the bar in front of you. Upon meeting his gaze, his chocolate brown pools started to melt away all of the tension in your body. It was so easy for you to get lost in his eyes. 

“I jest, my dear. Husker here is going to drive Mimzy home, and we are going to celebrate!”

Mimzy quirked a brow and made a sound akin to a high-pitched scoff. “I ain't ready to leave yet. I want to celebrate too! We could have a round of drinks!”

Husk had noticed that you and Alastor had yet to tear apart your gazes and were seeming lost in each other. Alastor flashed you a dazzling smile and leaned over the bar to press a chaste kiss to your lips. That was enough for your cheeks to flush and become a brilliant crimson. 

“C'mon,” Husk grabbed Mimzy's fur coat off the coat rack and all but threw it into the woman's face. “Before I drag your ass to the car.”

Mimzy put her coat on in a huff, then fussed over her hair, throwing insults at Husker as she did so. 

“Thank you,” you mouthed to Alastor and waved to Mimzy as she was all but pushed out the door by Husker. You could hear her nagging as she walked all the way to the door. “Poor Husker.”

“He'll live,” Alastor hummed and gave you a wink. “Mimzy, however,” he chuckled.

“That would be too good to be true,” you mumbled and grabbed the bottle of Red Stag to pour yourself that long awaited glass. “How was work?”

Alastor set about removing his suit jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his white dress. Your gaze was drawn to the newly exposed, tan flesh of his forearms. “Same as always, my dear. I'm sure you were listening?”

“Until Mimzy turned the radio off,” You walked into the main sitting area and sat in your favorite rocking chair. 

In your left hand was your glass of bourbon that you then took a sip of. From over the brim of the glass, you continued to study your partner as he made himself comfortable. Alastor's bowtie was now untied, and the top button of his dress shirt undone, exposing a delicious expanse of his neck. Being that it was Valentine's Day, you hoped that it meant that Alastor wouldn't mind taking everything farther than usual. The man would tease you here and there, whispering dirty things in your ear, because he knew it riled you up. The act of sex, however, just didn't fit his idealism. Any affection from Alastor would include kissing and touching, maybe heavy petting, but the two of you had only had penetrative sex a handful of times. Each time it happened was mind-blowing, leaving you craving more and waiting on bated breath to feel him the same way again. You could feel yourself beginning to flush just thinking about it - the heat slowly building up in your chest and rising until your cheeks were crimson. At least you could blame it on the bourbon, which you quickly threw back and tore your gaze away from Alastor. 

“So,” Alastor sat down on the couch and crossed his legs, and draped his left arm over the back of the couch. “Quiet evening with a shared drink, my darling?”

Honestly, the man was entirely too distracting. It didn't help either that the bourbon was affecting you far sooner than you anticipated. Your mind blanked, seeing Alastor sitting there - sleeves rolled up, bowtie undone, the red vest that matched his trousers that fit him entirely too well. Alastor was your perfect definition of a sex-god that had a distaste for the very thing that you craved. His smoldering gaze and satisfied, closed-mouth grin told you that he knew exactly what  kind of effect he had on you. 

“Are you alright,” he cocked his head to the side. “You look bothered.”

“You're a tease,” you swallowed. 

Alastor’s brows rose in surprise. “Me? I'm just sitting here,” he laughed and beckoned you over with his finger. “Come here, my darling.”

A bolt of red-hot arousal shot right up your spine, and your body moved automatically, seemingly out of your control and under Alastor’s. Alastor moved to uncross his legs and seized you by the hips with his strong hands. You now stood in between his spread thighs, looking down into his brown eyes as he gazed up at you. His lips quirked in a crooked grin, making him look like the cat who got the cream. 

“Tell me how I'm a tease,” Alastor whispered huskily. 

You brought your hands up to cup his face and ran your left thumb along his bottom lip. “You know what you do to me, Alastor.”

Alastor grinned and wrapped his arms around your waist. “Oh, I'm well aware,” the man's pupils were now blown with his own need. “Would you like me to do something about that?”

Relief flooded you, and you nodded eagerly. By now, the bourbon was really beginning to have an effect on you and how much you needed the man before you. “I've been waiting so long, Alastor.”

“The wait makes it worthwhile,” he growled.

Before your tipsy mind could even comprehend what was happening, Alastor stood, effortlessly hoisting you up by the hips, and bounded towards the spiral staircase of the loft Your arms wrapped around his neck and your legs around his slim waist. Alastor’s arousal was very noticeable against your own pelvis. The heat from his girth radiated through his slacks. When his lips met yours in a fevered kiss, your mind blanked with arousal. Your senses quickly became overwhelmed by his touch, his scent, and his taste as his tongue coaxed your own in a scorching kiss. Alastor eagerly devoured your mouth and every subsequent moan he drew from you. He broke the kiss, nipping at your bottom lip as he did so. His lips then trailed down to the column of your neck where he sank his teeth into the supple flesh. You hissed from the pain and carded your fingers through his brunette hair until you had a handful and tugged, earning a groan from him. 

“Fuck it,” Alastor growled and sat you on the steps of the spiral staircase. 

Alastor’s hands snaked up your dress to pull your panties down your legs, leaving the silk garment dangling from your left ankle. You gasped when he cupped your dripping sex in his left hand and breathed against the side of your neck. 

“I’ll have you right here,” he growled and claimed your mouth once again. 

You moaned wontanly into his mouth when he penetrated you with two fingers and curled them against your g-spot. Even though sex was a rare occasion, Alastor had memorized your body from the inside out. Knowing every sensitive spot to kiss, lick, or bite. Alastor groaned and pulled your bottom lip between his teeth and tugged, ripping the most delicious moans from your throat. Each and every sound you made went straight to his cock that was now straining uncomfortably in his slacks. With a tweak of his fingers, Alastor had you coming with his name falling from your lips like the most beautiful prayer. 

“Alastor,” you were breathless, chest heaving as you fought to catch your breath. “I need you inside me.”

Alastor’s eyes darkened, and he carefully withdrew his fingers from your quivering sex. “You’ll have me,” he whispered and kissed you chastly. 

The sound of Alastor’s belt buckle was like music to your ears, as your body was finally getting the attention that it so badly craved. With your left hand, you reached between you and Alastor and took his now freed, sizeable length in your hand. You bit your lip and looked up at Alastor through your eyelashes. Alastor held your gaze as he guided himself into your tight heat, slowly splitting you open and seating himself inside you. Both of you panted, attempting to adjust to the almost foreign sensation. No, you weren’t a virgin, but Alastor had been your first, and since sex wasn’t a regular occurrence, it took both of you longer to adjust. You, more so than Alastor. 

He was thankfully patient, waiting until the pained look on your face was no longer before slowly pulling out and thrusting back into the hilt. The man clenched his teeth painfully and screwed his eyes shut, completely drunk off of the feeling of you fitting around him so perfectly. 

You held onto Alastor tightly, with your nails digging into the flesh of his back, even through his dress shirt. Alastor’s hands had your hips in a death grip, and you hoped that you would have bruises left in their place. You wanted Alastor to claim you - mark you -  so that everyone knew you belonged to him. 

“Come inside me, Alastor,” the words fell from your lips in a pathetic whimper before you even realised what you said.

The look Alastor gave you startled you, and his hips stuttered to a pause. You stared into each other’s eyes for what felt like an eternity, Alastor’s eyes searching your own as if looking for truth behind that request. You feared your moment of intimacy with Alastor was ruined until he started moving once more. This time, he moved slower, taking his time pulling all of the way out and sinking back into you. He continued to hold your gaze and leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Is that what you want,” Alastor asked, but it was barely above a  whisper. “To be mine, forever?”

Of course it’s what you wanted. Alastor had been your first, and you wanted no one else. It was difficult for you to imagine your life any different. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about starting a family with Alastor. You brought your hands up to Alastor’s face and looked into those chocolate pools.

“Make me yours, forever, Alastor.”

~~~

You awoke the next morning, nestled in the king-sized bed of the loft alone. Alastor was nowhere to be found, with his side of the bed neatly made. Between your legs was an ache and a stickiness in the inside of your thighs that served as a reminder of the previous night's activities. What little bourbon you had, had also left you with a slight headache that settled over your temples. Coffee would be a good fix, and you wondered why you hadn't smelled it perking if Alastor had already been up. 

There was a fire going in the fireplace when you made your way down the staircase, confirming that Alastor was around, but nowhere to be seen. You thought nothing of it and went over to the kitchenette to get coffee perking and breakfast ready for whenever Alastor returned. 

You sat down in your rocking chair by the fireplace when the coffee was ready to enjoy your cup. The chair rocked rhythmically on the hardwood floor, nearly lulling you to sleep until you heard a god awful noise coming from the crawlspace under the cabin. Your first thought was that a stranger or the police had found the liquor stash, and you bolted out of the chair to get the pistol hidden among your books. 

The door to the crawlspace was in the kitchenette and was flung open, revealing a blood covered Alastor. The man looked up at you with blood splattered across his face and chest, staining his white dress shirt. There was enough blood that you couldn't tell if it was coming from Alastor or not. 

You dropped the pistol that was in your hands and rushed over to him, and hooked your arms around his arm. “A-alastor, what the hell? Are you-”

“It's fine!” He laughed and looked down at you with a grin. “It's not mine.”

Your eyes widened, and you took a tentative step away from him and shook your head. “Then, whose is it?”

Alastor ignored your question and casually walked over to the pot of coffee on the stove. He poured himself a mug, all the while humming a song with that same grin on his face. 

“Alastor,” you demanded. “You're scaring the hell out of me.”

“I'm sorry,” he put his coffee mug on the counter and turned back to you. “This,” he pointed to his stained shirt. “Is just the latest victim.”

“The latest…,” you paled, with the details finally coming together. “You're him.”

Alastor flashed you that dazzling grin and opened a drawer next to the stove. Without even looking, Alastor pulled a massive knife out and studied it. 

“Did you know, my darling, that in order to inflict a fatal wound, you need at least fifteen inches of penetration?”

“Please put the knife do-”

You gasped. Before you could even react, Alastor lunged forward, plunging the knife deep in your abdomen. He stood in front of you, holding the blade in place with his smile never faltering. Pain blossomed throughout your body, and you began to choke on the blood that bubbled up through your throat. You coughed and watched the blood mixed sputum splatter across Alastor’s already stained shirt. Tears fell freely from your eyes, staining your cheeks, and your trembling hands grabbed onto Alastor’s arm that still held the knife inside you.

Blinking up at Alastor through your tears, you saw no remorse on his face. Just that twisted grin that you had fallen in love with so many years ago. 

“You should know I'm too much like my father to have children,” Alastor said darkly. “That's a risk I cannot take.”

Alastor pulled the knife out of your abdomen and stepped back as you crumpled to the floor on your knees. The pain was white-hot, but it was nothing compared to that of your broken heart. Your body screamed for his closeness and wanted to hate him for everything. Even after the previous night, after telling you he would be with you forever. In an attempt to stop the bleeding, you held pressure on the wound, but you knew it was no use. You were dying. At the hands of your lover.

“It won't be long, my love,” Alastor got down on one knee and brushed your hair out of your face. “I'm sorry I had to do this.”

“F-fuck you,” you gasped and choked. 

Your vision was beginning to fade in and out, along with your hearing. The weight of your body suddenly became too much and you fell to your side. Before your head hit the floor, Alastor had caught you and laid you down gently. The last sensation you felt, other than the pain, was Alastor kissing you. It was a passionate kiss, similar to that of the kiss you shared while making love. He didn't care about the blood that pooled from your mouth, but seemed to enjoy it more than anything. When he broke the kiss, you met his gaze, struggling to keep your eyes open.

“I'll see you in hell,” you spit, using every ounce of energy you had left before going still.

Alastor smiled down at your now lifeless body and ran his fingers through your hair. A single tear ran down his cheek, and his smile grew into a grin.

“It's a date.”

Part Two

[writingsofwesteros]

Monster Fucking#

Mythological of any kind

Harwin a centaur fucking a young maiden, when she enters into his lands. Made sure to military press her or bend over doggystyle l. Letting his horse cock make sure stupidfied.

Daemon is a humanoid dragon that takes pretty maidens as his treasure, ravishing them until he releases hot cum into their wombs.

Aemond is a dashing cyclops, eating all men, but breeding the women for more children to defend their lands from mortals. Every child is born with one eye, making the cyclops father proud.

Aegon is a satyr who is always erect, going after moral women or nymphs. Sometimes by force or consent. If anytime he catches a beautiful woman he will watch them no matter what they are doing and start masturbating just to blow his load off only for him to get erect again.

Alicent is a gorgon, that will turn any man to stone but will take them women as lovers. Allowing her snake hair to lick at the pretty maidens' cunts, while she licks around their bodies. Using her tail as a makeshift cock for pleasure

Laena is a mermaid who will lure men and women to the sea only for the women to be eaten out and the men to be thrust into her slippery little hole, which she has covered in her fin. Afterwards, she eats them for food.

Rhaenyra is a succubus who goes to different men, from peasants, leaders, kings, and even gods. Mostly ones that are married and fuck them until they have come to the last drop inside her tight pussy making sure they go crazy searching for her leaving them is disarray with their wives crying.

Oh she is rendered completely stupid on his fat cock; her stomach bulging as his dark chuckle echoed in her ear. His larger hand soon presses down as she squirts around him. The legend has it that if she is still there by morning - she is his.

They are completely bare in his cave; the jewels dance under the light as they purr and rub against him. His treasure trove continues to grow.

Some women even prey to Aemond if their husband is a terrible beast - of course; their price is to bear his child. And with all the rumours - they happily do such a thing.

Aegon being ruled by his nature is so on point. The poor things that come onto his path - imagine a sweet, so sensitive little fairy.

Alicent not liking men and having that stare of Medusa is so her. And the hair ! She would drive her lovers mad with pleasure whilst cooing down at her.

Laena moaning as she finds a women on a rock; all there for her to feast upon and oh she does that. Before Dawn, the woman finds herself safe on the sand - with no husband in sight.

Rhaenyra just being so mean! Just taking and taking and taking; nobody ever getting over a night with her.

[the-desilittle-bird]

AN- I just thought, why not 🤣🤣🤣. Also, Rhaenys is dead for the sake of this…

Thank you and Enjoy your reading!

HoTD Preference

First Meeting

Characters- Daemon Targaryen, Aemond Targaryen, Otto Hightower, Corlys Velaryon, Cregan Stark & Criston Cole

Warnings - Incest (Targaryen)

Daemon ‘Rogue Prince’ Targaryen

You are either a noble or a part of the extended Targaryen family. Possibly a sister of Aemma.

If you are just a noble lady, then you meet at the court. Possibly at a ball thrown by the King or at a tourney, when he asked for your favour.

If you are a Targaryen (Aemma’s sister, as I am imagining), you meet at your sister’s wedding to Prince Viserys.

You two spend the entire time giggling and laughing and drinking.

Perhaps he spare you a rare dance or two.

You two fully enjoy your time together.

Aemond ‘One-Eyed’ Targaryen

You are most probably a noble lady from one of the Great Houses of Westeros, maybe a Stark or a Lannister or a Tyrell.

Your father or your brother is looking for a perfect betrothal. A good husband and a promise of alliance between your house and his.

Alicent Hightower deems you worthy for her second son.

You two met when you traveled to King’s Landing with your father.

A stroll through the gardens or perhaps a personal supper.

The first meeting was awkward with barely any words spoken, but after a few such meetings, you start to open up to each other.

Otto ‘Hand of the King’ Hightower

You are a Targaryen; younger sister to Viserys and Daemon.

You meet Otto when he is appointed the Hand of the King to the Old King Jaehaerys.

You wish not to marry for alliance; and everyone seems to respect it, surprisingly.

After his wife dies, you become a friend of his.

As much as you love your brothers; you don’t like how Daemon seems to always fight with each other.

You and Otto spend your time together reading and playing chess; or if you have any interest in politics, then you two discuss politics sometimes.

Corlys ‘Sea Snake’ Velaryon

You are a Lannister; sister of Jason Lannister and Lady Regent of Casterly Rock until he marries Johanna Westerling.

You and Rhaenys had always been quite close to each other.

You meet Corlys for the first time at her funeral in Driftmark.

You offer your condolences to him about her death; to which, he only smiles and nods.

He calls you for a supper when you are in Driftmark.

You reminisce your memories of Rhaenys with him and once, your back in Casterly Rock, you send ravens back and forth.

Cregan ‘Wolf of the North’ Stark

You are Rhaenyra’s first born and the only true born Velaryon. The star of your mother’s and father’s eyes.

You are sent to the North to gain alliance with the North on dragon back.

You tamed the Bronze Fury, much to Daemon’s delight. His mere presence made the Northerners freeze with fear.

Cregan welcomed you to the North with a light small smile and a hand on your back.

You handed him the scroll written by your step father.

You later came to know that you have been betrothed to him.

Criston ‘Kingmaker’ Cole

You were a respected lady of House Dondarrion, where he and his father served.

He had asked for your favour in a tourney held in the joy of your name day.

You had been startled by his handsome features and shy behaviour.

Next, you see him when your house attends a celebration after Princess Rhaenyra’s wedding.

You were the one to seek a conversation out with him.

You two jested about all the fat lords and the envious ladies in search of a suitor all night.

[novamariestark]

Hey this is my request

Where yn and Antonio buy a house and when the sell goes trough they give a house warming party and they get from Jay and Hailey matching bathrobes and from Hank and Trudy some pictures of yn and Antonio

The rest you decide with allot of fluff Thank you

Title: Sweet Dreams Are Made of You

Summary: You and Antonio have finally found your dream house. So you celebrate by having a party.

Warnings: suggestive, fluffy 🤣

Word count: 1807

Fandom: Chicago P.D

Pairing: Antonio Dawson x Reader

“What do you think, baby?” your husband asked as he walked up behind you, his arms snaking around your waist. He pressed his lips to the soft spot behind your ear, placing a gentle kiss. “Is it perfect enough for you?”

You couldn’t help but smile, sinking further into his embrace. “This is it. This is the one.”

“We’ll take it,” Antonio said, turning to the realtor.

You felt like you were going to explode with happiness—and maybe, just maybe, a little relief. The past few months had been stressful, searching for the perfect home for your family. Antonio had been more stressed than you, as he was determined to shield you from as much strain as possible. After all, stress is bad for the baby.

But this house… it was everything you had hoped for. And the most perfect part? The man by your side, the man you were lucky enough to call your husband. It was literally a dream come true.

“Mommy! Daddy! Look at this room!” Your three-year-old daughter came running toward you, tugging at Antonio’s pant leg. “Can this be my princess castle?” she asked, her eyes wide with excitement.

You bent down to scoop her up, her giggles echoing around the empty room as she wrapped her arms around your neck. “What do you think, sweetie? Is it the perfect castle for you?”

She nodded enthusiastically, clapping her little hands. “Yes! I love it!”

The next couple of months felt like agony—waiting to finally move in, then worrying about the logistics of the move itself. But you needn’t have stressed. The boys offered to help, though really, they were there to help Antonio. His overprotectiveness wouldn’t even let you carry a plant pot.

As a thank you, you headed to the best coffee shop in Chicago, bringing back coffee and donuts for everyone. Hailey and Kim dropped by frequently to keep you company while the guys worked tirelessly on the house. Antonio insisted on starting with your daughter’s room, wanting everything to be perfect for his little princess.

Jay and the girls took on the task of setting up the nursery for your unborn baby. You and Antonio decided to wait until the birth to learn the gender, but you didn’t want to wait to have the room ready. Kim had come up with the idea to surprise you by decorating it, and you weren’t allowed to peek.

You trusted them completely. Jay was the first person you met from the district, and he quickly became like a brother to you. Hailey came next, though there was a bit of a misunderstanding at first. Once Jay clarified that you were Tony’s girlfriend, you and Hailey became fast friends. Then there was Kim—sweet, soft-spoken Kim, who you learned had a fierce side after an encounter during a girl’s night out. Beneath her soft exterior was a woman who wouldn’t hesitate to stand up for herself.

Now, you couldn’t imagine life without any of them. They had become part of your family.

The housewarming party was your way of showing them how much they meant to you. Despite Antonio’s protests that a simple BBQ would be enough, you went all out, preparing different meals and drinks for each person—steak and whiskey for Voight, Chicago-style pizza and cold beer for Jay.

You even got a bounce house for your daughter and her friends, though you should have known that Adam would be the first to jump in.

Hank Voight, the first to greet you, wrapped you in a quick hug. “You didn’t have to go through all this. You should be taking it easy.”

“But you guys worked so hard, you deserved it,” you replied, smiling.

“We certainly don’t deserve you,” he said warmly.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” you were about to add more when the sound of shrieks came from the backyard.

“He’s never going to grow up,” Hank chuckled, nodding towards Adam, who was still bouncing in the inflatable castle.

“Don’t tell me you don’t want to go in there,” you teased, nudging him.

“I’m a little too old for that,” he laughed, raising his glass.

“So is he,” you grinned, nodding toward Adam, “Doesn’t stop him.”

As night fell and the air grew cooler, you brought the party inside. That’s when everyone began handing you gifts, much to your surprise.

Hank and Trudy gifted you beautiful picture frames, each holding a wedding photo. “Thanks, guys. You didn’t have to, but I know exactly where to put them,” you said, envisioning them above your new fireplace.

Hailey and Jay’s gift was a set of matching robes that said “Mr. and Mrs. Dawson.” Of course, Adam couldn’t resist giving you both some novelty items—two mugs, one reading “I like his…” with a bird picture, and the other, “I like her…” with a cat. Your daughter giggled, “But we don’t have a cat, silly Uncle Adam!”

Then there was the Christmas pajama set—one reading “Tickle my pickle” and the other “Pickle Tickler”—with red and black plaid pants to match.

Alvin’s contribution was a sign that read “Time Out Spot.”

“My princess is very well behaved,” Antonio protested jokingly.

“I never said it was for her,” Alvin replied, deadpan, before breaking into laughter with the rest of you.

“Don’t give her any ideas,” Antonio whispered to him, but you overheard.

“It’s not a bad idea, Al. Thank you,” you teased, smirking at your husband.

“I’m very well-behaved,” he grinned, giving you a playful wink.

The night continued for a couple of hours before everyone decided to head home. They did still have work in the morning after all.

You stood from the couch and started to collect all the dishes and glasses but a hand stopped, “I got this, baby,” he said, taking the dishes from your hand.

“But…”

“No buts,” he interrupted, “You’ve done enough today, I’ll clean up and I’ll meet you upstairs,”

You sighed, the look on his face, despite behind hidden amongst the tiredness, told you that he wasn’t going to budge, “Okay,” you folded, you looked down at your daughter, who had fallen asleep on the couch. You walked over to her, leaning down to pick her up gently in your arms.

You walked back over to Antonio, placing a kiss on his cheek, “We love you,” you told him.

“I love you two more,” he said, leaning down to place a kiss on your daughter’s head. He stood back up straight and pressed a kiss to your lips, “Go get comfy, baby, I won’t be long,”

“I hope not, Daddy,”

“And I need the naughty spot?”

“Fine,” you sighed, “But I still want cuddles,”

“You got it,” he said, giving you another peck on your lips. You said goodbye and headed upstairs.

You walked over to the room that was across the hall from yours. You opened the door and you’re greeted by the light pink and purple walls, with a brick like patten painted on it to give her a castle feel. Her bed has a pink canopy hovering above, with light purple transparent fabric cascading down like a waterfall.

You move further into the room and towards the bed. It only takes three steps before your standing beside it. You use one hand to move the covers to the side and gently lower her down onto the mattress. You grab the corner of the duvet and bring it back over to cover her. You tuck the duvet in around her, smiling when you notice the multiple different stuffed toys on her bed. Each from one of the team. You see she got her housewarming gifts last week.

You brush a stray strand away from her face and lean down to kiss her forehead, “Love you Princess,” you whisper.

You stood beside your daughter’s bed, smiling as you admired her peaceful appearance. Gently, you tucked her favorite stuffed bunny closer to her side, making sure everything was just right before you headed to the door.

But before you could move, you felt the familiar warmth of Antonio’s arms wrapping around your waist from behind. He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his chin resting on your shoulder as he gazed down at your sleeping daughter, “She’s out like a light,”

You nodded, leaning back into his chest, “She loves her castle,”

"Only the best for my girls," Antonio said, as he pressed a kiss to your clothed shoulder.

You smiled, placing your hands over his as they rested on your belly. "We’re lucky to have you," you whispered back.

“I’m the lucky one,”

For a moment, the two of you stood in silence, simply watching your little girl sleep, bathed in the soft glow of her nightlight.

He smiled, cupping your cheek as he leaned down to kiss you softly. "Come on, let’s get you to bed," he said gently. "You wanted cuddles, right?"

You nodded with a contented sigh, letting him lead you out of the room. With one last glance at your sleeping princess, you quietly closed the door behind you.

Antonio continued to lead you towards your room, his arm still wrapped around your waist. As you entered your own bedroom.

“Let’s get you settled,” he said, guiding you toward the bed. You sat down on the edge as Antonio knelt in front of you, helping you slip off your shoes. His touch was gentle, the way he always was with you, especially now with the baby on the way.

“You spoil me,” you teased softly, running your fingers through his hair.

“You deserve it,” he replied softly, pressing a kiss to your ankle. He stood and pulled back the covers for you. “Besides, I need you well-rested.”

You gave him a curious but suggestive look. “For what?”

He rolled his eyes and smiled, “For all the cuddles you asked for.”

You couldn’t help but laugh quietly and somehow, you find yourself falling for him even more, if that was even possible. Antonio always had a way of turning even the simplest moments into something special. Sliding into bed, you watched as he joined you, wrapping his strong arms around you as soon as he settled beside you.

You nestled your head against his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat beneath your cheek. His arms surrounded you and the whole world just disappeared.

“I’m so happy,” you whispered.

Antonio tightened his hold on you, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Me too, baby,” he whispered back.

You smiled, resting your hand on your growing belly. Antonio’s hand joined yours, his thumb brushing over your skin in a soothing rhythm and you found yourself being lulled to sleep. The last thing you remember, is feeling a soft kiss in your hair.

[nandawrites]

Surprise, @raziasark, I'm your Secret Santa for the @inusecretsanta this year! Hope you like it!

~~**~~

Something just like this

It was a quiet and peaceful night, and still Inuyasha could not sleep.

Nightmares plagued him like they hadn't since he was a child, turning shadows into monsters and the sounds outside into warnings. He pressed himself closer to Kagome but not even her scent was enough to quiet the sense of discomfort deep within him.

Too restless to lie still any longer, he got up as quietly as he could and walked the couple of steps across the room to where Moroha slept. She seemed safe and sound, but he still knelt by her side to check her breathing, anyway, sighing in relief when her blearely blinked her eyes open at him. She was the picture of easeness, but the knot within him seemed to coil even tighter as he got back up.

Anyone, anything, could ruin this bubble of happiness they had built. The kindness of a priestess had brought forth an horror like Naraku, who knew what other evils could be spawning in the world as they slept? How could he ever guarantee they would be safe?

Two arms wrapping around him from behind pulled him out of his spiralling thoughts. He brought a hand up and held Kagome’s hand against his chest.

“What’s the matter, Inuyasha? Can’t sleep?”

He shook his head.

“It’s nothing, sorry. Did I wake you?”

“Yes, I could hear the sound of you worrying all the way from over there,” she teased. “So, please, tell me what’s wrong.”

He sighed, looking over Moroha one more time. Still sleeping, still safe, but for how long?

“One day, I might not be able to protect you. The both of you,” he said softly, and turned around to face her. He knew there was fear in his eyes, but he hadn’t been ashamed of sharing it with her for a long time now. Her brow furrowed.

“Why do you think that?”

“I know I learned a lot while we were searching for Naraku, but there will always be someone stronger out there, a new evil, and when that happens I don’t know if I-”

“No,” she cut him off. “I mean, why do you think you need to protect us?”

“Kagome, you know I know how strong you are and what you are capable of, but if some disaster happens I’ll want to keep you as safe as possible.”

“No, that’s not what I meant, either. It’s the middle of the night, just gimme…. She rubbed her eyes as she gathered her thoughts. “What I meant is: why do you still think you need to do everything alone? The world isn’t on your shoulders, Inuyasha. If anything were to happen again, we will, we all will, deal with it together like we’ve always done.”

He could understand, in a sense, what she was trying to say, but the coil of anxiety was still within him.

“But what if…” He started and then took in a deep breath to keep his voice from trembling. He knew how ridiculous he was being, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he world was about to come crashing down on him at any minute. “What if that’s not enough? What if everything gets ruined because I am not enough? I need to get stronger, be always stronger, so that nothing happens, so I don’t lose you both.”

In a moment, Kagome had his face gripped between her hands and was giving him one of the fiercest looks he had ever seen. Some would say the inherited spirit of Midoriko still lived within her, but his knew this fierceness and bravery had always been all Kagome.

“The only thing you need to be is my husband and Moroha’s father. That’s it. The only thing you need to do is stay here, help me with dinner, rub my back when I am tired, take care of Moroha when she cries and teach her how to climb trees. We don’t need you to be a hero and save Japan or the world. Just be here and hold me, just like this, and all will be fine.”

His eyes widened and then softened. He really had managed to get the most amazing woman in the world to be by his side. She always knew exactly what he needed to hear.

“I think I have some other things I need to do, too, like hunt or warm the bath or keep snakes away.”

“No, you only need to do what I said.”

“Only that?”

“Yes.”

“That’s an easy life I’ll have.”

“Yes, you deserve it. We deserve it.”

He laughed, knot finally loosening, as did the tension on his shoulders. Kagome’s eyes softened dreamily and she hummed.

“Actually, there’s one more thing.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“What is it?”

“You have to kiss me.”

“I can do that.”

He kissed her in the now welcoming darkness and quietness of their cabin. He kissed her until a soft crying and whimper rang in the night.

He turned around and picked Moroha up, holding her with one arm against his chest.

“What is it? Did we wake you? I’m sorry.”

Her whimpers had turned into happy coos, though, and she reached her hands to his face. When he ran the back of his finger through her soft cheek, she got his finger and held it tight, waving it around like a prize. Kagome chuckled.

“I think Moroha is also saying all she wants from you is for you to stay here.”

He buried his face on Kagome’s hair once more and thanked the darkness of the cabin as he quietly did something he was still too embarrassed to do in front of her:

He cried.

[fastlikealambo]

Connubium.|| Coriolanus Snow x Black Fem Reader Chapter Nine

table of contents.

Chapter One.

Chapter Two.

Chapter Three.

Chapter Four.

Chapter Five.

Chapter Six.

Chapter Seven.

Chapter Eight.

Summary: Stealing from The Capitol is a deadly offense, yet you’ve done it more times than you can count but when you do something you should not have done, Volumnia Gaul decides a fate for you that might just be worse than death.

Notes: This takes place post The Ballad of Songbirds And Snakes and Coryo is in his last year at The University, studying under Dr. Gaul. This will not follow canon, I’m not an expert on all the lore so I apologize if I get things wrong.

Disclaimer: You know Coriolanus is a POS, I know Coriolanus is a POS, please don’t yell at me because this is just a fun little story, something for thee hotties, and  if you feel that strongly against President Snow, please let me know if you’d like me to sign you up for tessarae.

18+ only

trigger warnings for blood, vomit, injuries.

We are finally at the end, wow, this has been so much fun. I'm still a little unsure about this ending but I just want to say thank you for reading over these past few months, thank you so much.

  “And we’re back with our President and First Lady to be! It’s so good to see you both smiling after such a tragic time.” Lucky Flickerman beamed into the camera.

    “Thank you for having us Lucky and thank you to everyone watching at home.” You said with a soft smile, taking Coriolanus’ hand in yours.  In return, Coriolanus lightly kissed your knuckles and the studio audience cooed in response.

    “Let's get down to why we are all here, shall we?  It’s been three long and sad months since that fateful day and what a day it was. I should know, I was there and vomited all over my favorite suit!”

    “It really was a great suit, Lucky.” Coriolanus chimed in, earning a  laugh from the audience. 

  “Tell us, Coriolanus, what was it like in those moments?  We’ve all seen the footage of you cradling your beautiful wife, the danger, the drama! In your own words, tell us and everyone watching at home, about your wedding day.”

With a last look at you, Coriolanus Snow, husband, murder, and President-elect of Panem, opened his mouth and began to speak.

The night before his wedding, Coriolanus Snow was not in search of a final fling before an eternity of matrimonial bliss nor was he drinking himself into a stupor to bid his old life behind.  

When he kissed you goodbye after your long important walk and talk, he watched you get into the waiting car, shut the blinds and got to work. Crassus Snow’s record player crackled to life and with a sonata filling the apartment, Coriolanus surveyed the upwards of hundreds of champagne bottles on the dining room table.

He had not lied, if you asked him to burn down Panem, he would fetch a match yet after tomorrow, that would not be necessary.

For you, he would poison his wedding guests and murder President Ravinstill.

And for him, but that's besides the point.

As night turned to dawn, Coriolanus packed the champagne, the scent of apples and rosewater hiding the danger beneath. His guests would get something of his own collection, sweet and light, just enough to make them vomit and collapse, enough chaos to distract from the main attraction.

For President Ravinstill, he would not stray from tradition.

Nightlock.

Not just nightlock berries ground with a mortar and pestle, that was lazy, noticeable.  Every little piece of the berry was used, sprinkled in with champagne already designated for the soon to be former president. 

He watched, oh how he watched Ravinstill, take flute after flute upon his arrival. 

Yet at the very end, the person whom Coriolanus wanted at his side to witness the end of an era was currently unconscious on the floor beneath him.

Coriolanus Snow, with all his careful planning and plotting, had lost.

It had been two minutes since you had stopped talking, one minute since you stopped breathing and ten seconds since Coryo had tried another dose of the antidote. Coriolanus looked to the purpling corpse of Ravinstill, face frozen in death, and refused to let him win. 

There was no Panem with you.

    “ Not yet, Mrs. Snow.”

 “Coryo!”

A small gasp and the click clack of heels brought Coriolanus out his head and back to you as Tigris came running into the room. He had made sure Tigris was away from the venue before the champagne was served  by simple timing but now he was glad to have her here by his side.

    “Coryo, Coriolanus? Is she-

  He did not, could not, answer that. 

    Coriolanus brushed tears back and gave you another rescue breath, watching your chest rise and fall with his help only to remain just as still.  He checked for a pulse again, felt that weak irregular beat beneath his fingertips starting to slow.

Please don’t go, he whispered.

     “Coryo, I can hear sirens, we have to get her outside.” Tigris urged, voice thick with tears and Coriolanus was vaguely aware of himself pressing his lips to your forehead before gently picking you up. It all became real in that moment and Coriolanus began to run. 

The sight in front of him was more horrific than he had imagined to be with his wedding guests in various states of consciousness and the pungent aroma of vomit and blood wafting through the venue. Peacekeepers and medics were beginning to swarm the area and  with you in his arms, Coriolanus remembered there was still a part of his work that needed to be executed.

    “Help, somebody help! There’s something wrong with my wife, I don’t know what’s happening but President Ravinstill, he’s back there, he’s collapsed! I tried to help him but-” Coriolanus broke off, false tears in his eyes as he shook his head at the listening medic. The medic nodded at two other medics and peacekeepers who ran towards where Tigris was pointing. 

  Coriolanus reluctantly let the medics take you before following them into the ambulance himself without a word, barely hearing Tigris’ promise to meet him at the hospital.  Alarms and instructions between medics faded away as he squeezed your hand.

Please don’t go.

At some point, a shrill monotone sound invaded Coryo’s ears and it was then and only then that he let himself splinter. There was more noise and action around your body and unable to hold your hand, Coriolanus curled in himself, hands in his hair, caught between suffocating fear and such incredible rage.

The ambulance came to a stop at Capitol Hospital and all Coriolanus could do was watch a nurse climb onto the gurney take over compressions and let that same gurney carrying Panem’s possibly dead next first lady pass him and race inside.

Only then when standing alone did Coryo care to notice that the inside of his mouth was stinging, letting his tongue pass over the beginnings of a bloody sore. Every time he had breathed for you, what remained of the poison on your lips traveled to his own. 

The taste of blood in his mouth was nothing new to Coriolanus. 

There would be no Panem without you, all would crumble and perish before him, there would be no capitol, no games, just the end of all.

Coriolanus Snow had made up his mind: should you pass this day, Panem would know the dark days once more.

   “I’ve never been more afraid in my life, Lucky. If I could go back and save our dear President Ravinstill too, I would have done more, I should have done more, there was just so much happening.  I couldn’t lose my wife, without her I would lose myself.” Coriolanus broke off, a small sob escaping him and the audience was more than happy to lick up his grief.

 With a soft kiss on his cheek, you guided his hand from your thigh to your stomach with a smile.

Lucky loudly blew into a hanky before gasping when he saw Coriolanus’ hand on your stomach.

   “Mrs. Snow, is there something you’d like to share with us?”

   “Because of Coriolanus,  the extraordinary medical team at Capitol Hospital, and the support of Panem, I’m still here and I’m so happy to announce I’m pregnant.”

The audience roared and it was then you knew the girl from District 6 had all of Panem in the palm of your hand.

But there were games left to play.

FIVE MONTHS LATER

  “Ma, if you can hear me, squeeze my hand.” You urged, your hand wrapped around hers, tears in your eyes. 

A few long seconds later, your mother weakly squeezed your hand, the same as your Pa the day before.  

You were taking it slow but the doctors promised they would fully wake any day now and pre- inauguration press and third trimester be damned, you would be at their side the moment they opened their eyes.

You kissed your mother on her forehead, promising to come back tomorrow. 

But now, you had a very special appointment.

   “Little thief, you’re glowing! How can I be of service?” Dr. Gaul looked up from her research with that all too familiar venomous smile.

  “I just wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done in aiding my parents’ recovery. The doctors say they will wake up any day now.” You said, taking the seat she offered.

   “How wonderful! It’s good to hear my favorite lab rats are on the mend. Hopefully seeing their daughter pregnant and married won’t send them right back into a coma.” 

 You gave a hollow laugh but sat up in your chair.

  “ They’ll be happy to know I’m still alive.  I almost wasn’t, as you well know. It took the doctors so long to treat me, they couldn’t figure out why I was so much sicker than everyone else. So many tests were run and even now they still don’t know.”

  “Have you asked Mr. Snow? He’s always had such an insight into poison.” Dr. Gaul remarked pointedly. 

It was no secret that Coriolanus was involved in Ravinstill’s death but thanks to your dramatic yet romantic near death experience being caught on camera, Panem did not care.

  “ I would but he’s been so busy touring the districts, preparing for the inauguration. Speaking of, there’s something I need to tell you, actually it’s easier if I show you.” 

 One of your security detail came forward and turned on Gaul’s television. 

Lucky Flickerman came on to the screen excitedly, a breaking news banner beneath him and to his right sat Coriolanus.

  “ Mr. President, I’ll cut to the chase, my producers have told me you have something to share with the fine people of Panem? ” Lucky asked, bouncing on the edge of his chair.  Coriolanus smiled into the camera, hands folded on his lap.

   “To honor the tragic death of former President Ravinstill and to celebrate the upcoming arrival of our daughter, the First Lady and myself would like to announce the suspension of The Hunger Games this year.”

Last night, you had asked Coriolanus if would rather be feared than loved.

This was his answer.

You couldn’t hear the TV due to the rather dramatic shrieking of Volumnia Gaul.

As if on cue, peacekeepers entered Dr. Gaul’s lab began to take it apart, boxing up research, emptying cabinets and Dr. Gaul herself stood in front of you, laughing.

  “I underestimated you, little thief. Will you kill me now or televise it?” She asked, head held high as two peacekeepers appeared on either side of her.

You stood up from your chair slowly to face the now former Head Gamemaker.

  “I don’t need to kill you. You tortured and poisoned my parents and through your puppet Ravinstill tried to kill me, death is an afternoon treat for you. I want you to witness the future of Panem, witness them forget your creations the more time passes, and one day, when someone asks what The Hunger Games were for, the answer will be simple: nothing. From now until the day you die you will remember me not as a hostage or the wife of a President, but as the little thief who stole your greatest treasure, your legacy.”

Your time with Dr. Gaul ended in the place where it all began.

If only she had chosen a girl of fine capitol breeding.

EPILOGUE

One week after the presidential inauguration of Coriolanus Snow, Rose Snow comes into the world screaming, Coriolanus holding your left hand and your mother holding your right.

Once upon a time, you had three rules.

Never be seen.

Never take what you could not carry.

Never intervene.

Now you only have one.

To live without fear, now and forever. 

Thank you to everyone who has been waiting, I hope that this was worth the wait! Thank you all for reading and I’m so happy this is out now. If you would like to see a sequel to connubium, please interact and reblog this work!

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for leaving my husband?

For context, I (F40~) was originally a citizen of Missouri, and was up until this year.

The reason for leaving Missouri? My husband, who I’ll refer to as J, (M40~) lit a building with our main source of income on fire, accidentally, killing every living thing in there.

After that incident, instead of staying in Missouri, we decided to set out on a journey to the west coast. A way to start over fresh.

Of course, we had to take my father, who I’ll refer to as T (M70~), with us, as well as J and I’s children, who I’ll refer to as C (M7), and M (F15~).

Being the mother of the household, I had to look after M and C, while J went to buy the supplies we needed for the trip.

When he came back with our supplies, our mode of transportation, a wagon, had a large hole in it and hexagons for wheels. Not only that, but the wagon did not have a wagon cover either. He also had bought an ox who was completely blind and couldn’t eat on its own.

Along with that, he had blown half the money on bullets, and bought absolutely no food (We had to eat grass almost the entire time we traveled).

I will let you know, he did not discuss this purchase with me before going through with it.

So there we were, miserably traveling, with no good source of food. Not to mention, the wagon continuously broke on us. We had to fix it multiple times until we couldn’t salvage it anymore and had to replace the broken parts with extra parts.

Since we were stopped for the day because we needed to repair the wagon, we all decided to sleep.

J and I sleep in the same sleeping bag, it’s double sleeping bag, thank goodness. We both get prepared for the night and get in.

Despite getting comfortable, we soon realized there was venomous snake inside the sleep bag because it bit me.

Obviously, I yelled at J to suck it out so that I wouldn’t die.

He did so successfully, but like the idiot he is, he SWALLOWED it.

Because of this, we as a family, thought he had died and we were preparing for the worst.

Suddenly, after hours, he just… wakes up?

A little loopy, but alive.

So now, he’s faked his death. What kind of person does that?

Once again, we decide to stop for a rest because of the incident.

This time, we’re a bit more resourceful, searching for resources around where we stopped.

This went on through the night, and once J, T, C, and I had arrived back at the wagon, it was set aflame. Worst of all, our daughter, M, was nowhere to be found.

We could only assume that she had left, or she was taken.

J was the closest to the wagon, and yet he did not look after it.

So there we were, missing a kid, no wagon, no place to put our supplies, and winter had just arrived.

Still, we trudged along. Walking by feet to our destination.

We had to stop multiple times, as the weather was getting worse.

One time, we stopped by a bar.

At this point, I was fed up with J and his stupidity, and was honest with him. I told him that I could not do take it anymore. With every decision he’s made, I just did not think my family was safe.

So, I took C with me, and left J in the bar.

I’m beginning to feel bad about doing this though.

So, AITA?

[bloodlust-1]

꒦꒷ Blood Bond ꒷꒦

Bound by blood, associated by marriage.

Gortash x fem Tav durge Explicit 18+

Chapter: 2

Part one ->here<-

No warnings. You know what you came here for.

The next morning, Tav woke up in her bed, feeling the absence of her husband. A small piece of paper caught her eye as it sat on the disheveled sheets of his side of the bed, resting on his pillow. She reached out for the note, her eyes scanned the message:

“Good morning, wife. I will be out for meetings with the noblemen of our neighboring city. I will meet you over dinner. -Gortash.”

Tav furrowed her eyebrows in frustration and crumpled the note. It was their first day of being married, and yet he uninvited her to business proceedings.

Tav crumpled the note in her hand. She couldn’t help but feel a sense of disappointment and annoyance at Gortash’s absence. The fact that he was making political appearances without including her made her feel sidelined. This was her kingdom. She ran the show now, not him.

She sat up, running her hands through her hair to smooth it down, and winced as the fresh wound on her palm stung. Tav let out a tired yawn before proceeding with her morning routine, summoning a servant to assist her with dressing.

He defied her. It's all Tav could think about as her fork stabbed her breakfast a little too aggressively. His stupid face reminisced in her head.

That smug grin in her head was anger fuel enough. Tav wanted nothing short of a perfect image, and he was fucking with it already.

After breakfast, Tav stomped her way to his office, rummaging through his drawers and scattering papers and notes to the floor. Angrily, she searched for any information that might shed light on Enver’s business proposals. She read through treaties, news, and rumors of possible alliances with different kingdoms.

Tav gritted her teeth as she discovered more than Enver had shared with her. She hated learning information herself rather than relying on others to provide it for her.

In between the scattered papers on the desk, a sleek black dagger with intricate gold filigree detailing lay nestled in the drawer. Tav’s eyes were drawn to the weapon, and she reached out to pick it up, feeling its weight in her hand. With a decisive movement, she tucked the dagger into the waistband of her pants, the cool metal pressing against her skin.

Leaving the room in disarray, Tav made her way back to their chambers, stomping her heels against the ground. Despite attempting to keep herself occupied, she found her gaze repeatedly drawn to the window, where she stood waiting for his arrival with a simmering sense of malice.

When night fell, Tav prepared for dinner with meticulous care. She selected an exquisite satin black dress adorned with red beads resembling blood droplets, the fabric hugging her delicate curves. She adorned her horns with dainty golden chains to complement her attire and accessorized with a matching jewelry set.

Tav had an ethereal beauty, her fragile yet captivating allure reminiscent of a goddess. However, beneath this facade lay a personality akin to a snake's.

Most days, Tav's behavior was as tranquil and composed as any other evil queen. However, when Bhaal's presence entered her mind, she faced an intense inner battle. Bhaal's influence brought with it a maliciousness that sought to take control of her actions, filling her with dark and violent thoughts.

Tav fought to keep her sanity, to keep the murderous thoughts at bay, all while being haunted by the knowledge that this darkness was a part of her, thanks to her father's wickedness.

As Tav’s heels clicked against the floor, she made her way into the dining hall. The table was full of an array of dishes, including a selection of expensive meats wafting through the air. Despite the lavish spread, Tav sat there lonely. Gortash had yet to make an appearance for dinner. Feeling a sense of isolation, Tav closed her eyes and offered a quiet prayer before partaking in the meal set before her.

Suddenly, Gortash stumbled into the room, his body looking heavy with weariness. His skin was pale and his dark circles were more pronounced than usual, almost as if he hadn't slept in days. His eyes were barely open as he made his way towards the dinner table and plopped himself down on a chair.

Gortash looked over at Tav and in a hoarse, low voice he asked, "Why the sour face?"

“You excluding me from private meetings to govern a city that rightfully belongs to me,” Tav stated firmly as she gracefully rose from her seat, the chair making a subtle scraping noise against the floor.

Her graceful strides were full of poise and purpose as she walked towards Gortash, continuing, “I have endured countless trials and tribulations, including blood baths and battles, all in pursuit of a husband who dares to defy me.” She then proceeded to walk eerily around Gortash’s chair.

Leaning over his back as he sat, Tav whispered with conviction, “This city is now under my control. Whatever plans you had in place before now involve me. I am an integrated part of everything.”

Her words cut deep, but to Gortash, her harsh words were music to his ears. He loved that she challenged him: and tried to have authority over him. Just like old times.

"That's no way to speak to your king like that. You of all those nobodies should know I don't take shit from anyone." Gortash leaned his back close enough to press against Tav's breasts.

He tilted his head back and glanced carelessly up at her. "The child of Bhaal. So sloppy you are, the urge within you will only wreak havoc. And to think, I have to call that my wife." He scoffed with annoyance ingrained into his face.

Tav pulled out his knife from her undergarments, her breath warming the back of his ear as she whispered, "You fail to see the power I have over you..." With precision, she tightened the blade against his skin, compelling his head upwards. Her tongue trailed from the base of his neck to his cheek.

A malevolent giggle escaped her lips, and the look in his eyes turned dominant. They both knew they’d clash in this power dynamic. Neither of them wanted to budge an inch when it came to control, and whenever they had it, it was hard to take it away.

With mercy, Tav retracted her knife from his neck. She could hear him heavily breathing as he tried to catch his breath. His neck burned red from the blade as she walked over to the edge of the table. With one swipe, Tav pushed the silver plates and food placed in front of Enver onto the floor.

Tav’s eyes narrowed as she uttered the command, her voice dripping with a menacing edge. "Leave, now." She turned her gaze towards the servant, who quickly bowed and scurried out of the room, visibly shaken by the hard threat in her words.

Tav's eyes blinked back to Gortash, whose face grew angered and confused. Tav propped herself up on the edge of the table, dark eyes pierced his own challenged look.

She spreads her legs, only revealing the black silk panties to him, "Eat." She commanded.

"Tch - Why should I?" his eyes narrowed into a glare as he peered down at the figure before him. Her dress’s fabric began to roll up her hips as she parted her legs in front of him.

Tav stabbed the knife forcefully into the wooden table, letting the blade stand up in the grain. Tav made sure her message was clear and understood. She was not to be ignored.

She flashed the same fresh slice wound on her palm as his, "Because, your wife needs attention." She pouted and batted her eyelashes. She eyed his posture, noticing him sitting up with his back straightened in interest.

"You owe it to me. You left me all alone today." Tav hummed seductively.

Getting Gortash to just get a taste of her would certainly drive him crazy. The more he craved her, the easier it would be to have him wrapped around her finger. The power lay in the ability to stoke desire and manipulate him.

His eyes gleamed in excitement, the woman he had recognized to be so beautifully condescending was there, opened-legged for him. Gortash sighed huskily in approval. Long silver curled hair, tight dress, dark eyes, long slender legs, and a cocky attitude to go with it. She was a dream, a vision.

Gortash hooked his arms around her thighs, dragging her body closer to his face. Tav's tail wrapped around his arm in approval, and the jewelry from her horns dangled as she propped herself up with her elbows. Tav fell silent, anticipating his next move.

Tav felt the warmth of his breath hit against her core. Her tail tightened around his arm as an invitation. His tongue dragged against the silk, nibbling the fabric at her clit. His spit damped the silk as his tongue teasingly pressed against her core of the panties.

"You play with your food often?" Tav puffed out her cheeks impatiently. Her face flushed a deep crimson, it was the first time Gortash had seen her face so red without the existence of blood. And it felt so good to be the one to cause it.

His tongue circled her covered core mumbling between licks, "Only with you."

he planted kisses on her panties and then on her thighs. Enver gently drew her skin between his teeth, leaving behind delicate deep purple hickeys. The subtle pain was washed away with pleasure once again as his fingers pulled aside the silk of her panties.

The tip of his tongue traced her clit teasingly, first slowly then roughly. Her sweet tinge on his tongue spread across his tastebuds. Her aroma, taste, and the sweet victory of her whimpers; set him off the edge. His mouth found itself glued between her legs. Groans and moans filled the room while his saliva ran down between her inner thighs.

Tav’s back arched as a result of the goosebumps that swiftly traveled up her spine. The sensation of her skin prickling in ecstasy from Gortash’s attention was undeniable.

It was a moment of intense physical reaction, where every touch seemed to send shivers down on her skin. The slurping noises coming between her legs were layered between Tav's moans.

Gortash flicked and sucked her clit, his hands dug into her bruised thighs creating small indentations that reddened her skin. It was sloppy, rough, and tense.

Tav loved the pain. Her hands felt down her curves until it reached the top of his head. Her fingers intertwined with his messy hair, tugging it firmly into her palm.

The sudden pull forced his face closer against her wet core, moans flowed like lyrics. The feminine rage that pent up inside her brewed closer into bliss deep in her core.

Gortash furrowed his brows each time he received a firm tug. His eyes gazed up at Tav’s sweaty body and onto her face. She was hazy, eyes half opened with a buck of her hips each time his tongue graced her clit.

Gortash could feel her thighs tighten around him as well as the grip on her tail. Tav’s free hand cupped one of her breasts threw her dress, pleasuring herself with small touches.

He forced her legs back opened once her twitching started. An orgasm was close, but he wanted her to beg and plead in what little domination he held.

Gortash roughly pinned Tav’s legs open, and his tongue clicked faster circling around her clit. Tav yelped out, her groin twitched and tensed as a final scream left her lips.

“What a mess you made.” Gortash mumbled while dragging his tongue for a final swipe of her juices. He leaned up and wiped his wet mouth across his sleeve.

Tav panted, her shakey legs lowered slowly onto the table. She grabbed the handle of Gortash’s dagger, pulling the blade up from the wood grain, “I suppose you aren’t truly useless.” she whispered hazily.

“You frustrate me incredibly, my dear.” His eyes hungrily peered down at her exposed legs.

Enver's calmness washed over his face with lust. Tav was an old ‘friend’ before she lost her memory. Secret lovers even, but all was lost in time, and now it was like life was giving him another chance with her. He missed his partner in crime and here she was, a new woman.

Tav stood up, wobbling in her steps as she sat back down at the dinner table. She hiked her dress back down with a sway of her hips. Just a taste he would get. “If you’re good, I’ll consider bedding you.” Tav spoke with a slight shakey voice, but with a sternness, “If I don’t decide to kill you first.”

Damn did he look good sweaty, wet with her cum on his face. A changed opinion she had felt about his face since yesterday. Tav sipped on her wine, a small grin tugging at her lips.

Dinner wasn’t the only thing he ate that night.

Next part here

Any Thoughts? Comment 👇🏼 I love to engage!

[theartofsimpatry]

Corpse Bride AU

Dabi x Reader

Part 3

Part 2

“Mm..” You moaned… you could feel yourself waking up but your eyelids felt so heavy. It took all of your willpower to open them. It took your eyes only a second to adjust to the scene in front of you. You were lying on a plush velvet couch… the windows showed it was night and the nearby lamps illuminated the room around you. Your wedding dress was muddied and tattered from your running. Your mother would beat you with a wooden spoon for what you did to her dress. You slowly rose off of the couch, oh god, you were sore. Your body felt weak and battered. You stretched out your neck and could feel your hair matting on your head. You touched and felt gauze wrapped around your head. You remembered running in the forest from… something and then passing out after falling into a creek bed…

“Now where is that salve I put down?” You heard an old man speak, he must be a room away. Did he save you? He must’ve wrapped the gauze around you. You should get up and thank him, maybe he’ll give you a ride back into town! You got up fully and finally noticed you were barefoot, you must’ve lost your shoes while running. They were your grandmama’s… your mother will surely beat your bottom when you get back. You navigated through the cluttered room, piles of old books that stood like towers. You knew that it would be best not to touch anything as you were already in this man’s debt. You opened the room’s door into a dark hallway.

“Hello?” You called out, down the hallway you could see the shadow of a short man wearing maybe a coat, from of one of the rooms.

“Yes dear? Are you alright? I’m trying to find my medicated salve for you. If you can, can you come here and help me find it?” He called out, you felt at ease. You made your way down the hallway to join him. “Yes, of course! Thank you for helping me. I must’ve gotten lost in the forest and got hurt.” You came in through the illuminated doorway, again, mountainous piles of books all around the room. You saw a short figure, facing away from you. The only thing that you could see besides his long robe was the top of his head, very pale and not a single hair on top of his head.

“Ah, yes. Your husband did say that is what happened.” Husband? Did your fiancé come after you into the forest and save you? Despite your very limited time with him… he didn’t seem like the type that would be worried about you. Maybe he wasn’t as bad as you thought? You snaked your way through the books and began searching for that salve.

Crack!

You quickly turned around and the hold man seemed to be rubbing his hip in pain. “Damn these old bones.” You quickly stifled a laugh and continued digging through piles of books on the ground. After a few minutes, you heard the click-clack of his shoes coming towards you.

“Looks like I’ve found it, dear.” You quickly turned around to see… the old man’s skull was pale white with a pair of simple glasses on his face despite not having eyeballs. With no hesitation, you grabbed the thickest book near you and swung it at the old man’s skull.

CRACK!

His skull flung off of his shoulders and into a pile of books that came down like an avalanche on top of it. The old man’s body stumbled around like someone in the dark. His robe fell off revealing nothing more than a skeleton underneath. Nothing about what happened was a dream?! You actually married a walking corpse?!

“Oh god! Oh god! Oh god!” You screamed. You turned around and ran back into the dark hallway. You frantically checked all the doors for an exit. Door 1: no. Door 2: no. Door 3: no! You turned down a corner and saw a lone double door that the end of the winding hallway. That must be it! You sprinted down and grabbed the knob. You swung the door open to see the tall dark figure you hoped to never see again. Your eyes trailed up from his tattered dark blue suit to his decaying blue face. His blue and white eyes glittered at you.

“My runaway bride, I left to get these roses for you, I guess you missed me too much?” In his hands, a bouquet of wilted dead roses. Your eyes darted to the clear area behind him, maybe you could run again?

“Thinking of running away again? Did it work out for you last time?” He mocked, he advanced towards you and instinctively you hobbled back. His hand guided you to turn and your back hit the wall of the hallway. You flinched in pain, you were still bruised, maybe you should’ve stolen that salve… He kept his hand on your shoulder and freed his other hand by throwing the roses out of sight. His skin was so cold, it almost felt nice on your bruised body. His cold and foul smelling breath hit your face making you shrink even further into yourself. You only had maybe 3 inches of space between you two. You hated this.

“I also went out and got a ring for you. A proper one.” His freed hand dug into his suit’s pocket. In his pinched fingers was a large diamond ring, a large white diamond in the center and a ring of blue sapphires surrounding it. It was such an extraordinary sight. You’ve never seen such a large ring, the one that was proposed to you was a mere silver band with a tiny and delicate diamond embedded into the band. You were blinded by the sight that you didn’t even fight back when he gently grabbed your hand and slipped the ring onto your ring finger. The diamonds and sapphires glistened in the light from outside.

“Wh-where did you get this?” Was all you could ask, the man in front of you chuckled, he brought his freed hand back and slightly away from you before a bright blue flame roared from finger tips, disintegrating the surrounding skin.

“I had to burn someone for it.” His eyes flickered from the sapphire blue flames to your terrified face. “I would hate to have to burn you too, my bride.” Your eyes turned away from his face and flames to the outside world just beyond the doorway. The closeness of his cold lips to your ear made you want to hide under a blanket forever.

“Maybe if you keep fighting and running, I’ll have to brand my name into your body: Dabi. I suggest you start playing the perfect wife for now on.”