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#event: a candle in the darkness
lexotanmerlin · 8 months
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Lex # 5077
♥Hair: *S.E LELUTKA X FELL IN LOVE D RED 24 ♥Head:LeLUTKA Avalon Head 3.1 by jaden.nova ♥Body: eBODY – REBORN – by eBODY ♥Skin: — PUMEC – VLADUSHKA (LELU EVO X) – Sunkiss ♥Body skin: VELOUR x VENUS for EBODY REBORN (SUNKISS) ♥Tattoo: Fewness – Your Sign – Cancer by Fewn Daddy ♥Tattoo: Puddles. Zodiac Tattoos by Veronica Cuddles ♥Veins: Izzie’s – Body Veins & Cellulite (combined) by Izzie…
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Jace and betrothed unable to wait until their wedding night to have sex??
Request: Jacaerys and his future wife fooling around because they are horny and scared they will die before getting married. I don’t want my boy to die without tasting the greatness of sex
How did this smut piece get to 2.2k words? 😳
Warnings: 18+, smut, masturbating, fingering, p + v, 
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
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‘’I’m scared, Jace,’’ you confessed as you stood by the banister of Dragonstone castle, watching as Vermax and Silverwing flew together over the bay. Hopefully Silverwing will lay eggs when you and Jacaerys have children. ‘’The war is getting closer to us. Soon, we’ll have to get on our dragons and battle against the enemy. We…we might die.’’
Death was inevitable during a war. Especially one with dragons, as Rhaenys once said. Team Black had already suffered a couple of losses — Lucerys, Rhaenys, Ser Erryk —, but more would come. 
‘’The thought of what’s coming is terrifying, but we can’t let ourself be paralyzed by the possibility of dying,’’ Jacaerys said, his hand securely on the handle of his sword. He had taken the habit from Daemon, whom he looked up to in certain aspects. 
You looked down at your bare hands on the top of the banister. ‘’I’m not scared of death, I’m scared of dying without ever calling you husband.’’ 
A few weeks before the petition of Driftmark, you and Jacaerys had announced your betrothal. Rhaenyra had a feast in celebration, proud and happy that her eldest son would marry without any politics involved. The wedding should have happened in the summer, but the King fell to his illness and from there unraveled a series of unfortunate events that postponed the wedding.  
‘’When the war ends and I sit on my throne, we’ll have a large celebration in the Red Keep,’’ the Queen had promised.
But you were tired of waiting. 
‘’Every night, as I lay in bed, I think of you and our life if there hadn’t been a war of succession. I would call you husband, my prince husband, and we would not be sleeping in separate beds across the castle. No one would be chaperoning us from afar and we would not get scolded for sharing ‘too long’ kisses.’’
Jacaerys put his hand over yours on the bannister, sharing the same feelings. He wanted to call you his wife and glare at whoever dared speaking wrong to you. He wanted to spend the evening alone in your shared chambers, eating cakes and talking about your day until one of you fell asleep first. He wanted…he wanted to take you to his bed and have a family with you. Not whilst the war was going. He could not deal with the stress of his pregnant wife going to battle on her dragon. 
A few days later, you were sitting in your settee, reading in your nightgown when you heard a light knock on the door. You raised your head from your book, and saw that a piece of parchment had been slipped beneath your door.  
Meet me when the moon is bright. Careful when you take the stairs, Ser Godric is keeping guard.
The message was not signed, but you recognized the handwriting. 
When you judged the moon was bright enough, you slipped a robe over your nightgown and quietly walked down the corridor to take the stairs to Jacaerys’ chambers. You listened carefully for any guards, not wishing to get caught sneaking to you betrothed’s chambers at the hour of the owl. It would make quite the scandal amongst the servants and the staff. 
You knocked delicately on the door and bit your lip as you waited, your stomach bubbling with excitement. Within a few seconds, the door opened and Jacaerys pulled you inside. 
The room was quite dark as the sun was asleep, only the fire of the hearth and a few candles on a table as sources of light. You noticed the small crumpled balls of parchment on the study, assumingly drafts of his message to you. It had to be not too suggestive, but also not too plain that you would not want to come.
‘’I didn't know if you were going to come,’’ Jacaerys said, his lips curved into a shy smile. 
He was wearing just a tunic and wool trousers. It felt strange to see him without his doublet and riding gear. His dark brown hair was messy and his cheeks flushed from what you could make from the light. He looked so different from the usual picture-perfect prince. 
‘’You asked to see me.’’ 
Jacaerys stepped closer. He raised his hand to stroke your cheek, then your hair, which he seemed taken by. ‘’I didn’t know your hair was so long. You always have them up in braids or pins,’’ he said, his tone soft with wonder.
A slight smile tugged at your lips. ‘’What is it that you wanted, Jace? I doubt you summoned me her to talk about my hair.’’ 
‘’I’ve been thinking. About us.’’ He paused for a moment, looking into your eyes. ‘’The Gods have been unfair to us. So let’s not wait for them to bless and unite us.’’
Your brows drew into a light frown. ‘’Jace, what do you—’’ you began, but he stepped closer, his forehead resting against yours. 
He stepped closer, the fire in the hearth reflecting in his eyes. ‘’Do you love me?’’ 
‘’With all my heart,’’ you replied without hesitation, your eyes filled with sincerity. 
‘’Let’s not wait, then. I…I don’t want to waste our time together waiting for this damn war to be over to take you to bed.’’ 
Jacaerys placed his hands on your hips and pulled you flush against him, his grip loose, giving you time to pull from his grasp if you wanted it. But you didn't. 
Instead, you looked up at him and kissed him, closing the remaining space between you. You kissed him like you've done many times before, only this time you didn't have to pull away every twenty seconds to check if a maester, guard or the Queen was around. You’ll never forget the embarrassment you felt that day…
Jacaerys whimpered as you pulled his bottom lip with your teeth, and pressed you against him, desire spreading through his veins, hot like dragonfire. With less layers between your bodies, you could feel the warmth of his chest through your nightgown, and his...little friend stiffening in his trousers.
‘’Someone is excited,’’ you murmured with a giggle as you broke the kiss to plant a trail of kisses down his neck instead. 
He let out a low moan, tightening his grip on your hips. ‘’I cannot control it when you’re around. Especially when you kiss me.’’ Jacaerys captured your lips into another kiss, and tingles caressed your spine and tickled your lower stomach. 
His hands grabbed and pulled at the material of your robe and nightgown, and you rolled your hips, igniting more of his dragonfire. Jacaerys moaned at the contact, louder than he intended. Your own cheeks turned red, realizing you were starting to reach an intimacy you had never breached before.
‘’I’m nervous,’’ you whispered, biting your lip as you thought of getting intimate. 
You placed your hands on Jacaerys’ chest, distracting yourself from your mind. His heart was beating fast, probably just as nervous. 
‘’We don't have to do anything if you don’t feel ready to.’’
You shushed him with a finger to his lips. ‘’I want to.’’ 
To prove yourself, you untied your robe and placed it on the back of the settee, right next to Jacaerys’ sword. The prince's breathing quickened, his dark eyes fixated on your fingers as you unlaced the ties of your nightgown, slowly unraveling the knot. You sucked in a breath as you pulled it down your shoulders, letting it slip down your body until it reached the floor.
Silence greeted your naked body, and you felt shy suddenly. You almost reached for your robe to cover yourself, but your betrothed sensed your uneasiness and stroked your cheek before taking off his tunic and trousers. He found it unfair for you to be naked while he was still clothed.
Once you were even, he guided you backwards towards his bed. The headboard had a large dragon engraved in the stone and seemed a little bigger than yours. The sheets were pale, and over top was a deep red blanket made of velvet to keep warm from the winds coming from the bay.
Jacaerys sat on the edge and, with an expression of fascination, he reached for your breasts. He made sure to be gentle, sliding his thumbs gently over your rapidly hardening nipples. ‘’By the Sevens, you’re beautiful,’’ he marveled, stars in his eyes. 
‘’I can say the same, my prince.’’ You pressed your palm over his chest, smooth and warm.
Jacaerys smiled, that one soft and genuine smile he reserved for you. ‘’I love you,’’ he said, his hands caressing your side in small, gentle circles. 
‘’I love you to— Aah,’’ you whimpered as his hand reached between your legs, stroking your slit clumsily. He didn't know what he was doing, and lacked finesse as he bumped against your clit at random moments, but it still felt amazing. 
He checked on you, wanting to please. ‘’Does that feel good?’’
‘’Yes.’’ 
His fingers were getting slippery from your arousal, making it easier to slide against your cunny. You’ve done it to yourself a few times, alone in your bed. 
‘’Can you put one inside?’’ 
Jacaerys’ fingers were a bit thicker than yours, and longer. 
He nodded. 
A breathy moan left your lips instantly, pleasure sparkling as your walls clenched around his middle finger. 
‘’Like that?’’ Jacaerys slid his finger out, then back in, repeating the motion as you grabbed his shoulder. 
‘’Yes. Again.’’ 
He listened to your needs, almost forgetting his own as his cock remained untouched against his stomach. It was engorged and painful. While one hand was busy pleasuring you, he wrapped his second around his cock and jerked himself. 
 You noticed and thought of helping him, but Jacaerys added a second finger and your knees almost gave out. The feeling was overwhelming, but you craved more. 
You pushed Jacaerys away, and clambered over his lap. His gaze met yours, equally filled with lust. With a nod from your lover, you reached down to grab his cock and lined it at your entrance, sinking down slowly, inch by inch. 
The intensity of the sensation had you gripping at each other, needing to anchor yourself to something. It was unpleasant at first, feeling a pressure and a stinging inside your intimate tunnel. You felt full in a way that was impossible to describe.
Feeling your fingers dig into his skin, Jacaerys kissed your shoulders and neck to sooth you, trying his hardest not to move by fear to blow too soon or hurt you. It was overwhelming for him too — the feeling of your tight walls squeezing him.
You rose up slightly, and then sank back on with tenderness. Jacaerys moaned deeply with you, his head dropping against your collarbone. He closed his eyes, his hands squeezing your hips as you moved up and down again, the pressure around his cock heavenly.  
Your bodies moved together in a rhythm, becoming one. 
When your legs fatigued, you let Jacaerys know and he moved you on the bed and laid you down on the rich velvet. He adjusted himself to the new position, his dark curls falling like curtains around his face as he thrusted into you with long deep strokes.
‘’Kiss me,’’ he demanded.
You complied, winding your arms around his neck and rocking your hips to meet his thrusts until you reached your high with a broken cry. 
Seconds later, Jacaerys pulled out and spilled onto your thighs, not wanting to deal with the consequences of having sex out of wedlock. 
The bed creaked as he collapsed beside you, breathing heavy. As if an invisible string was pulling you to him, you rolled on your side and clung to him, needing to be close after sex. You stayed that way for a long time, relaxing with your head on Jacaerys' bare chest. Your legs felt like jelly, still dizzy from the intense emotions and the overwhelming pleasure. 
You wished you could suspend time and stay there with him forever. But a soft yawn brought you back to reality.
‘’I must leave,’’ you said, feeling the tiredness catching you. It was difficult not to be lured to sleep when you were cuddling under the covers and Jacaerys’s hand was stroking your back gently.
His arms caged around you, protesting. ‘’Stay.’’ He nuzzled into your neck, his voice muffled. ‘’It’s a command from your prince.’’ 
His tone was unserious, but it still made you guilty and sad to leave him. 
‘’I do not wish to leave and sleep in my bed alone, but I must be found in my own chamber when the maids come in the morn.’’ 
Jacaerys sighed, rubbing his face into your hair. ‘’I know,’’ he said, his voice a mixture of resignation and frustration. 
Reluctantly, his arms slowly unwound from around you and you peeled yourself from him, releasing a small hiss when you sat up. The septa had warned you about the pain after breaking your maidenhead. It wasn’t unbearable, only sensitive when you moved. 
‘’I didn't hurt you, didn't I?’’ Jacaerys immediately asked, his eyes filled with concern as he checked on you.
You shook your head and smiled, washing his guilt away. ‘’No. You were perfect, Jace.’’ 
He knew it was untrue. No one was perfect the first time. 
You struggled dressing back into your nightgown and robe, having to fight with Jacaerys’ lips trying to kiss you and his arms pulling you against him. You gave him a last longing kiss before slipping out of his chambers, promising to see him to break fast. 
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stylesispunk · 20 days
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'Silent Strain' | part I
Outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader
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summary: Joel and you knew that bringing a child into this mad world was a mistake, but he wanted to give you the best that was left of that world after all.
w.c: 12,6k (this was 5k at the beginning)
warnings: established relationship, age gap (Joel is 43 and Reader 32) angst, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of abortion, fluff, not proofreading, sorry. The events of this story happen 10 years after the outbreak.
a/n: New Sunday, new fic? This one was on my drafts and I thought about developing a little bit more because I wanted to write one where Joel wasn't an asshole. This may become a really short series. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Happy reading.
dividers by @/saradika-graphics
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Mornings in the QZ were far from a story teller, always bleak as any other, somber and carrying the weight of the guilty grieving each people who has survived this far dealt with.
Many people had become the worst versions of themselves, just monsters they never thought they would be. Others woke up with the survivor’s guilt, after years of letting go their people, family and friends.
And others carried all that, but had found a little spark shinning on their path.
That was your case.
And Joel’s too.
You both had found each other just a few years after the world descended into chaos. After that, you become each other’s anchor until now.
Even when days seemed to be grayer, even when Joel seemed a bit lost after losing his contact with Tommy.
Even on days when the world seemed grayer, even when Joel seemed a little more distant—his thoughts lost somewhere along the frayed edges of his mind, burdened by the loss of contact with Tommy—you held on. You knew what he was feeling; it was a familiar ache, a common wound you both carried.
Tommy was Joel’s last person who shared his blood. His brother, his last piece of family and what the old world had left him.
But he also had you, and that made him alive.
You woke up slowly, the thin, rough blanket tangled around your legs, the mattress beneath you creaking as you shifted. The air was cold, seeping through the cracks in the walls, and the faint light of dawn barely penetrated the small, grimy window. Outside, you could hear the sounds of the QZ waking up, the distant, muffled voices of guards changing shifts, the echo of boots on concrete, and the occasional shout. You pulled the blanket tighter around you, trying to keep the chill at bay.
The room you and Joel shared was small, barely large enough for the bed and a rickety chair in the corner. Outside the doors, there was the rest of the old apartment that worked as a roof for the both of you, and Tess.
The walls were stained with years of neglect, paint peeling in long strips, revealing the bare concrete beneath. There was a small table near the window where a lone candle had burned down to a stub, wax pooling on the surface, solidifying in random patterns. It had been another long, sleepless night, the dark hours stretching on endlessly, and you could feel it in your bones, an ache that went deeper than simple tiredness.
You glanced over at Joel, still asleep beside you, his face etched with lines of worry even in rest. He lay on his side, one arm slung over his face, his brow furrowed as if he were fighting off some invisible enemy in his dreams. The mornings were hardest on him, you knew. Waking up to the same bleak reality day after day, the hope of finding Tommy growing thinner with each passing moment.
A wave of nausea hit you unexpectedly, a sudden queasiness that made your stomach twist. You shut your eyes, taking a slow, deep breath, trying to steady yourself. You hadn't been feeling well for a few days now, just a lingering discomfort you chalked up to the lack of proper food or maybe stress. Nothing in this world was kind to the body or the mind anymore.
You pushed yourself up, careful not to wake Joel, and swung your legs over the side of the bed, your feet touching the cold, cracked floor. The chill ran up your legs, making you shiver. You sat there for a moment, steadying yourself, pressing a hand against your stomach as if trying to calm the unease that rolled there. There was a strange heaviness to it, something that seemed different, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.
The thought crossed your mind, quick and unbidden, a possibility you immediately pushed away. It was too absurd, too impossible to consider. Not here, not now, not in this broken world.
You rose to your feet, steadying yourself on the edge of the table, your fingers brushing against the melted wax. You glanced back at Joel, who still hadn’t stirred, his breathing deep and even. You knew he needed the sleep, needed a moment of peace, however fleeting. You moved quietly toward the window, peering out through the dirt-streaked glass. The world outside was shrouded in mist, the familiar shapes of the crumbling buildings barely visible in the pale morning light.
There was a time when you might have found the sight beautiful, in a melancholic way. Now it just seemed desolate. Empty.
Another wave of nausea hit, stronger this time, and you pressed a hand to your mouth, swallowing hard. You took a few deep breaths, trying to steady yourself. You felt a sharp pang of fear, a sudden flash of panic that cut through the fog of morning fatigue. You forced it down, tried to stay calm. You couldn’t afford to be anything else.
From behind you, you heard the faint rustle of the bed as Joel shifted, his voice rough and low. “You, okay?” he murmured, still half-asleep, his words slurred with exhaustion.
You turned to look at him, forcing a smile, though you weren’t sure he could see it in the dim light. “Yeah… just a bit cold,” you lied softly, your voice barely more than a whisper.
He blinked at you, eyes heavy-lidded, and then nodded, seeming to accept it. “Come back to bed,” he mumbled, his voice carrying a warmth that made something in your chest tighten. “It’s still early.”
For a moment, you hesitated, feeling the cold air around you, the uncertainty pressing in. But then you moved back to the bed, sliding in beside him, feeling the heat of his body radiating through the thin layers of fabric. He reached out, pulling you close, his arm draping over you protectively, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding.
You closed your eyes, savoring the feeling of safety as Joel stirred Joel stirred, his hand rubbing small, soothing circles on your back. “Are you sure you are, okay?” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep.
“Yeah,” you whispered, hoping he couldn’t hear the lie in your voice. “Just a headache.”
He kissed the top of your head, the simple gesture sending a pang of guilt through you. “You’ve been getting a lot of those lately,” he noted, concern creeping into his tone.
You forced a smile, even though he couldn’t see it. “Just stress, I think.”
He hummed in response, not entirely convinced but willing to let it go for now. He gently nudged you off his chest, propping himself up on one elbow to get a better look at you. His eyes searched your face, and you had to fight the urge to look away. Joel had a way of seeing right through you, and you were afraid he might catch a glimpse of the truth you were hiding.
He frowned, clearly not convinced. “You’ve been saying’ that a lot lately. Maybe you should rest today, stay in bed.”
You shook your head, knowing you couldn’t afford to take a day off. Life in the QZ was unforgiving, and everyone had to pull their weight. “I’ll be fine. We’ve got too much to do, and they’re already short-handed at the ration line.”
You forced yourself to follow suit, pushing through the lingering nausea as you pulled on your worn clothes. The headache throbbed with each movement, but you bit back the discomfort, determined not to let it show. Joel kept glancing over at you, as if expecting you to collapse at any moment, but you just offered him a reassuring smile, even if it didn’t reach your eyes.
Once you were both ready, you stepped out into the harsh reality of the QZ. The streets were crowded, people moving about with a sense of urgency, always on edge. You and Joel made your way through the throng, his hand resting on the small of your back, guiding you through the chaos.
At the ration line, the day passed in a blur of monotonous tasks—distributing food, managing the restless crowd, keeping an eye out for trouble. But the ache in your head never fully faded, and every now and then, you had to pause, closing your eyes for a moment to steady yourself.
Joel noticed, of course. He was always watching, always worrying, though he tried to hide it behind a gruff exterior. “You sure you’re alright?” he asked again when you took a brief break, his tone betraying his concern.
“Yeah, just… It’s probably just the air or something,” you said, shrugging it off. But you could tell he didn’t believe you.
“See you later, then?” he asked before parting ways with you to your different duties.
“Yeah, see you later,” you replied, forcing a smile, trying to reassure him. Joel lingered for a moment, his eyes searching yours, he planted a kiss on your lips before turning to head off to his assigned area. You watched him go, feeling a mix of guilt and relief. You hated lying to him, but what could you say? That the world seemed to be spinning just a little bit too fast? That every time you bent over, a wave of nausea washed over you? It would only make him worry more.
The hours dragged on, the sun creeping across the sky, bringing with it a sticky heat that clung to your skin. By midday, your headache had grown worse, a steady throb that pounded behind your eyes. The noise of the crowd seemed to amplify the pain, voices blending into a harsh cacophony. You rubbed at your temples, willing it to stop, but it only seemed to make it worse.
At one point, while lifting another crate filled with canned goods, a sharp pain shot through your abdomen, causing you to drop the box with a loud thud. A few people nearby turned to look, but you waved them off, trying to catch your breath. The soldier supervising the line glanced over, raising an eyebrow. “You good there?” he asked, his tone half-concerned, half-annoyed.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” you muttered, bending down to retrieve the cans that had spilled onto the ground. Your hands shook slightly, and you felt a bead of sweat roll down your back. The soldier didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t press further, turning his attention back to the line.
“Then clean the mess you made” he ordered.
You nodded, swallowing down the nausea that threatened to rise again. “Yes, sir,” you replied, bending down to pick up the cans. Your fingers felt clumsy, and every time you moved, the pain in your abdomen seemed to sharpen, making it difficult to keep your breathing steady. Sweat dripped from your forehead, stinging your eyes, but you pushed through, determined not to draw any more attention to yourself.
As you gathered the last can, another wave of dizziness hit you, and you had to steady yourself against the crate to keep from toppling over. You glanced over your shoulder to see if the soldier was still watching, but he had already turned away, his focus elsewhere.
You took a deep breath, trying to will away the nausea, when you heard a familiar voice behind you. “Hey, you, okay?”
Turning, you saw Tess standing there, her face set in a concerned frown. “Yeah,” you lied, forcing a weak smile. “Just a rough day.”
Tess studied you for a moment, her eyes narrowing. “You don’t look so good,” she said quietly, stepping closer. “You’re pale… and sweating like hell.”
You shrugged, trying to brush it off. “I’m fine, just… tired, I guess.”
Tess didn't seem convinced. Her sharp eyes swept over you, taking in every detail — the paleness of your skin, the way your hands trembled slightly as you held the cans. Her frown deepened, and you could practically feel the gears turning in her head.
“Look,” she said slowly, almost carefully, “I know you well enough to tell when you’re lying. And right now, you’re doing a pretty damn poor job of hiding whatever this is.”
Your heart started to pound in your chest, an uneasy thump that only made the nausea worse. You swallowed, glancing away from her probing stare. “I said I’m fine, Tess,” you repeated, but your voice came out too shaky, too uncertain. Even you didn’t believe it.
She took a step closer, lowering her voice. “Don’t bullshit me,” she murmured, her tone firm but not unkind. “You’ve been off for days now… the headaches, the dizziness. I’ve seen this before. And I’m pretty sure you know what I’m talking about.”
You stiffened, shaking your head quickly. “No, Tess,” you whispered, almost desperate. “It’s not that… it can’t be.”
Tess’s expression softened, but there was still a hint of stubbornness there, a determination to get through to you. “Listen,” she began, her voice a little gentler. “I’m not trying to scare you, but… you need to face this. If it’s what I think it is… then you’ve got a lot to figure out.”
“Please, Tess. Not now” you pleaded.
Tess hesitated, her eyes searching your face, but she nodded slowly, relenting — at least for the moment. "Alright," she said quietly, though the concern in her voice hadn’t faded. "But you can’t keep running from this forever."
You felt a lump in your throat as you looked away, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill. "I just… I can’t think about it right now," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. "There’s too much going on, and… Joel…"
Tess sighed, crossing her arms. "I get it," she replied softly. "But, you know, you’re not alone in this. Whatever it is, you’ve got people who care about you. Joel might be rough around the edges, but… he’s not going to turn his back on you. Not now, not ever."
You swallowed hard, nodding, though you still felt like you were balancing on a knife’s edge. "I know," you said, though doubt still gnawed at you. "It’s just…"
"It’s scary," Tess finished for you, and you could only nod again, feeling suddenly very small. "But you don’t have to go through it alone, alright?" she added, her voice softening. "I’ve got your back. Always."
You gave her a weak smile, grateful for her support, even if the fear still twisted inside you. "Thanks, Tess," you whispered.
She patted your shoulder, her touch gentle, almost sisterly. "Let’s get back to it," she said, glancing back toward the line. "But promise me… you’ll think about what I said."
You nodded again, though your mind was spinning with a hundred different thoughts. "I promise," you murmured, even though you weren't sure if you meant it.
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By the time you got back to the apartment, the sun was already low in the sky, casting long shadows through the broken blinds. Your legs felt heavy, your head still pounding from the stress of the day. As you pushed open the door, you were met with the stale, familiar scent of the small, dimly lit space that you and Joel called home. The silence was almost deafening, broken only by the faint creaking of the floorboards beneath your feet.
Your eyes scanned the room, and they quickly fell on Joel sprawled out on the bed, his face slack in sleep. But what caught your attention was the nearly empty bottle of whiskey sitting on the table next to him, beside a few scattered, white pills. A flare of anger ignited in your chest.
You walked over and grabbed the bottle, knocking it down onto the floor. The sound of the glass hitting the wood was loud, but Joel didn’t stir. Frustration bubbled up inside you. “Joel,” you called out sharply, but he remained still, lost in whatever numbness he’d sought.
With a forceful shove, you shook his shoulder, your voice rising. “Joel, wake up!” you demanded. His eyes fluttered open slowly, bleary and unfocused. He blinked a few times, trying to clear his vision, and groaned.
“What?” he muttered, his voice thick with sleep and whatever haze the whiskey and pills had put him under.
Your hands clenched into fists at your sides. “What the hell, Joel?” you spat out, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and worry. “You’re drinking and taking pills again? You promised me… you promised you’d stop!”
Joel blinked again, pushing himself up on one elbow, confusion and irritation crossing his face. “It’s just… it’s just to take the edge off,” he slurred, running a hand over his face. “You don’t get it.”
“No, I do get it,” you shot back, your voice sharp. “I get that you’re hurting, Joel, I get you want to know where Tommy is but this is not the way.”
Joel’s eyes narrowed, some of the grogginess leaving his gaze. “I’m trying,” he muttered, a hint of defensiveness in his tone. “I’m doing the best I can, alright? It’s not that easy…”
You took a step closer, your heart pounding in your chest. “I need you, Joel,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I need you here, with me… not drowning in a bottle. We’re supposed to be in this together, remember?”
He looked away, his jaw tightening, but he didn’t respond immediately. The silence stretched between you, heavy and tense. Finally, he let out a long breath, his shoulders slumping slightly. “He is my brother, the only family I get left.” he muttered, almost too softly to hear.
“What about me?” you asked, voice trembling.
Damn, why were you getting so emotional.
Joel's brow furrowed, clearly caught off guard by your question. He blinked, as if trying to process your words, and then his expression softened. “What are you talking’ about?” he asked gently, taking a step closer to you. “Of course, you're my family. You know that. You’re everything.” His fingers brushed against your arm, tentative, as though he was still uncertain if you’d accept his touch.
You felt a lump forming in your throat, and you blinked rapidly, trying to keep the tears at bay. “Then why does it feel like I’m not enough?” you murmured, the words slipping out before you could stop them.
Joel's thumb brushed against your cheek, wiping away a tear you hadn’t realized had fallen. “You are, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice steady but soft. “I promise you are. I’m just… I’m scared. Scared of what could happen to you… to us.”
You looked up into his eyes, searching for something—an answer, a reassurance, anything to ease the turmoil inside you. "How are you feeling'?" he asked suddenly, his voice quieter, more tender than before.
The question caught you off guard. You blinked, trying to gather your thoughts. "I… I don’t know," you admitted honestly. “Tired…”
Joel nodded slowly, his hand slipping from your cheek to rest on your shoulder. “I know, I get it,” he said quietly. “But you gotta promise me… if there’s something’ wrong, you’ll tell me”
You nodded, “I promise.”
You wrapped your arms around Joel, pulling him into a tight embrace. The warmth of his body against yours was a small comfort, a fleeting sense of security in the chaos that seemed to be swirling around you. As you clung to him, the guilt and the weight of the hidden truth about your pregnancy settled heavily on your shoulders.
Joel held you close, his hand gently rubbing your back, his touch reassuring and steady. “I’m sorry,” you murmured into his shoulder, the words escaping almost involuntarily. “I’m sorry for everything.”
Joel’s arms tightened around you, and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Ain’t nothin’ to be sorry for,” he said softly. “We’re in this together, you hear me? We’ll get through it. We’ll figure it out.”
You nodded against him, feeling a mix of relief and deep-seated worry. The truth about the pregnancy was still looming, a secret that was becoming increasingly difficult to keep. Every time you looked at Joel, you could see the love and concern in his eyes, and it made the weight of your silence feel all the more burdensome.
As you slowly pulled away from the hug, you wiped at your eyes, trying to steady your emotions. Joel looked at you with a soft expression, his worry evident but tempered with the resolve to support you no matter what.
The thoughts of your pregnancy, the uncertainty of the future, and the fear of how this might change everything were still swirling in your mind. You felt a pang of guilt as you remembered Tess's words, and you struggled with the decision of when and how to reveal the truth.
Joel seemed to sense the inner conflict you were grappling with. “If you need space, or if you need to talk about it,” he began, his voice steady, “just let me know. I’m here for you, no matter what.” You nodded, forcing a small, grateful smile. “Thank you, Joel. I… I just need a little time.”
He nodded in understanding, and as you both sat down, the silence between you was filled with an unspoken promise of support and love.
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You woke up a little later, feeling the soft warmth of Joel’s arm wrapped protectively around your waist. For a moment, you simply lay there, savoring the comfort and the faint sense of security his presence provided. The room was quiet, the only sound the steady rhythm of Joel’s breathing.
Gently, you eased yourself out of bed, careful not to disturb him. You tiptoed out of the bedroom, the coolness of the apartment a stark contrast to the warmth you’d left behind. As you walked through the small living space, you noticed that Tess was already up, sitting at the table with a cup of coffee.
She looked up as you entered, her gaze softening. “Hey,” she said quietly, setting the cup down. “How’re you feeling?”
You offered her a small, tired smile. “Better, thanks,” you replied, taking a seat across from her. “I just needed some space to think.”
Tess nodded; her expression thoughtful. “Did you think about what I say?”
You took a deep breath, considering Tess's question. “A little,” you admitted, your voice soft. “It’s just been overwhelming, and I’m not sure how to handle everything yet.”
Tess studied you for a moment, her eyes reflecting both concern and a hint of sadness “And?” she reached across the table, placing a comforting hand over yours. “I understand it’s overwhelming,” she said gently. “But you have to face it.”
You glanced down at your hands, gripping the edge of the table as if it might anchor you to the present moment. The room felt too small, the weight of your thoughts pressing heavily on your shoulders. “It can’t be…I’m scared” you confessed, your voice trembling slightly.
Tess took a deep breath, her expression softening. “Take the test, I’ll go with you” she said, showing support.
“Wha-wha-what? I don’t have any test” you said, voice trembling
Tess gave you a small, understanding smile, her hand still resting over yours. “I know,” she said softly. “But there’s a way to get one. I can ask around… discreetly. I have a contact who might be able to help.”
Your heart pounded in your chest, a mix of fear and disbelief coursing through you. “You’d do that? For me?” The idea of someone knowing, of even a whisper of this spreading through the QZ, sent a chill down your spine. But the calm certainty in Tess’s eyes steadied you.
“Of course,” she replied without hesitation. “I’ve got your back, always. We’ve been through worse, haven’t we?”
You nodded slowly, though the tight knot in your stomach seemed to twist even more. “Yeah, I guess,” you muttered, trying to sound convinced, even though nothing had felt quite like this. “But what if… what if it’s true, Tess? What do I do then?”
Tess squeezed your hand gently, her thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Then we figure it out, step by step,” she said. “First things first, we need to know for sure. Until then, try not to let your mind spiral, okay?”
You swallowed hard, nodding again, though your mind was already a storm of thoughts and worries. You could feel the weight of this new reality settling onto your shoulders, heavier than anything you’d felt before. “Okay,” you whispered. “I’ll try.”
Tess stood up, giving your hand one last comforting squeeze before letting go. “I’ll see what I can do tomorrow,” she promised. “Go back to bed and try to rest.”
Your mind raced with possibilities and fears as you made your way back to the small bedroom, trying to steady your breathing, to find some calm in the storm of your thoughts.
When you slipped back into the darkened room, Joel was still lying on his side, one arm stretched across the bed as if reaching for you even in sleep. You carefully lifted the blanket and slid back under it, trying not to wake him. But as soon as you settled in, his arm instinctively curled around your waist, pulling you close. His warmth enveloped you, and for a moment, you felt a flicker of safety.
Joel's voice came out in a sleepy murmur, rough around the edges. “Where were you?” he mumbled; his breath warm against your neck. You could feel the weight of his arm, heavy and reassuring, holding you as if he sensed your unease.
“Just… talking to Tess,” you whispered back, trying to keep your voice steady.
His grip around you tightened slightly, his thumb tracing small circles against your side. Even in his half-asleep state, there was a protectiveness in the way he held you. “Everything okay?” he asked, still drowsy, but there was a hint of concern creeping into his tone.
You hesitated for a second, your heart beating faster. You didn’t want to lie, but you also couldn’t tell him—not yet, not until you knew for sure. “Yeah,” you finally replied, trying to sound convincing.
Joel made a low, comforting sound, a mix between a hum and a sigh. He nuzzled closer, his lips brushing lightly against your shoulder. “Don’t worry,” he murmured, his voice trailing off as sleep tried to claim him again. “We’ll figure it out… whatever it is.”
You bit your lip, feeling a lump form in your throat. You wanted to believe him, wanted to let his words soothe the fear gnawing at your insides. But all you could do was rest your hand over his, feeling the roughness of his skin beneath your palm, grounding yourself in his presence.
“Yeah,” you whispered back, more to yourself than to him. “We always do.”
Joel’s breathing began to slow again, deepening as he drifted back to sleep. You closed your eyes, pressing yourself closer against him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest.
“I love you” you whispered to him, breaking the silence. You were afraid of losing him.
For a moment, there was only the quiet of the room, the soft hum of the distant generator outside, and the gentle rhythm of Joel's breath against your skin. You wondered if he'd even heard you, or if your whispered words had been lost in the space between wakefulness and sleep.
Then, you felt his grip tighten around you, his hand moving to hold you closer, almost as if he was afraid, you might slip away. His lips brushed against your shoulder, a tender, lingering kiss that sent a shiver down your spine. "I love you too," he murmured, his voice a deep, husky whisper in the darkness. There was a raw honesty in his words, an openness that you rarely heard from him, as if he understood the fear hidden beneath your confession.
His lips pressed against your shoulder again, this time firmer, more deliberate. "Ain't nothing gonna change that," he added softly, his breath warm against your skin. His thumb stroked gently over the fabric of your shirt, tracing soothing patterns that spoke of comfort and promises unspoken.
You closed your eyes, letting his words wash over you, feeling a mix of relief and longing. The fear still lingered, but in this moment, held in his arms, it felt a little more manageable. You leaned back into him, feeling the strength in his body, the steady beat of his heart against your back.
Joel held you tighter, as if sensing your need for reassurance. "We'll get through this," he whispered. "Whatever it is, we'll face it together. You and me."
You nodded against him, unable to find your voice, your heart swelling with the weight of everything unsaid. "Together," you repeated softly, your hand squeezing his, grounding yourself in his presence.
For now, that was enough.
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Joel woke up slowly, his body protesting against the cold air that had settled in the room overnight. He blinked against the dim light filtering through the cracked blinds, reaching out instinctively to your side of the bed, only to find it empty. His hand moved across the sheets, finding them cool, your warmth long gone.
He sat up, a frown creasing his brow as a flicker of worry ran through him. He scanned the room, half-expecting to see you in the corner, maybe getting dressed or lost in thought, but the room was still, too still. He called your name, softly at first, then a little louder. No answer.
His heart quickened as he swung his legs over the side of the bed, grabbing his jeans from the chair and yanking them on. The apartment was quiet, eerily so, with no sign of movement or life. His boots hit the floor with a dull thud as he pulled them on, his gaze darting around the small space.
Where the hell were you?
He moved quickly to the kitchen, eyes scanning the counters, the sink—anywhere you might have left a note, a sign of where you’d gone. But there was nothing. Just the quiet hum of the building settling around him. He glanced toward the front door, noticing Tess's boots missing from their usual spot. A knot of unease tightened in his chest. Neither of you were there.
He ran a hand through his hair, cursing under his breath. You wouldn’t have left without telling him, not without saying something. And Tess—she was always up to something, but she never left you behind. He felt his pulse quicken, a gnawing sense of dread creeping in as he grabbed his jacket from the hook near the door, slipping it on with practiced haste.
Joel pushed open the door and stepped into the hallway, his boots echoing against the worn floorboards. He looked around, scanning for any sign of you or Tess. The hallway was empty, but a few doors down, a neighbor—a middle-aged man Joel recognized but didn’t know well—was stepping out, adjusting his coat.
“Hey,” Joel called out, his voice sharper than intended. The man looked up, surprised. “You seen them?” He gestured back to your apartment.
The man shook his head slowly, clearly unsure who Joel was referring to. “Nah, haven’t seen anyone this morning,” he replied. “Everything okay?”
Joel forced a tight smile, though his stomach was churning with worry. “Yeah, fine,” he muttered, turning away. He started down the stairs, moving quickly, almost without thinking. His mind raced, a thousand worst-case scenarios flashing through his thoughts. Where could you be? Why hadn’t you said anything?
He made his way down to the ground floor, heading toward the small communal area near the entrance, where a few people were already gathered, murmuring quietly among themselves. He scanned the room, his eyes searching, hoping to catch a glimpse of you or Tess.
“Joel!” A voice cut through the chatter, and he turned to see one of Tess’s contacts—Danny, a wiry guy with a nervous energy—waving him over. Joel’s heart jumped. Maybe Danny had seen you.
“Where’s Tess?” Joel asked as he approached, not bothering with pleasantries.
Danny’s face tightened slightly, and he glanced around, lowering his voice. “She went out early, looking for something… didn’t say what. Figured you knew.”
Joel clenched his jaw, frustration flaring in his chest. “And her?” he asked, his voice edged with urgency. “You see her?”
Danny shook his head. “No, man. I just saw Tess.”
Joel felt a chill run down his spine. He took a step back, his mind racing with questions. If Tess had gone out and you weren’t with her, then where the hell were you?
He turned, scanning the room one more time, then made a decision. He needed to find you, now. Whatever this was, wherever you were, he wasn’t going to wait around and let worry tear him apart.
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You sat in Lydia's small, cluttered living room, nerves thrumming beneath your skin like a live wire. The room smelled faintly of antiseptic and old books, a comforting combination that somehow made you feel more at ease, despite the circumstances. Lydia's place was a small haven in the chaos of the QZ, filled with mismatched furniture, faded floral curtains, and a few potted plants she somehow managed to keep alive. The doctor herself, an older woman with graying hair pulled back into a messy bun, moved around the space with a calm, practiced efficiency. Her hands were steady, her expression focused but kind.
Tess stood beside you, her presence a quiet reassurance. She had her arms crossed, her foot tapping lightly against the worn wooden floor as she watched Lydia prepare a small kit on the table. Lydia glanced over at you, her eyes soft with a mixture of concern and affection. “You look pale, sweetheart,” she said, her voice gentle but firm. “You’ve been keeping up with your food and water?”
You managed a small nod, though your stomach felt like it was tied in knots. “Yeah, just… a lot on my mind,” you murmured. Your voice sounded small in the stillness of the room.
Lydia nodded knowingly, her gaze flicking to Tess for a moment before returning to you. “I’ve seen that look before,” she said softly. “It's not easy, being in this kind of situation… but you’re not alone, okay?”
You bit your lip, feeling a lump form in your throat again. “Thanks, Lydia… I just… I’m scared,” you admitted, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I don’t know what to do if… if it’s true.”
Lydia came over to you, setting a warm hand on your shoulder. “It’s okay to be scared,” she said kindly.
You nodded, taking a deep breath as she handed you a small, well-worn plastic device. A pregnancy test. It felt surreal holding it in your hand, the weight of it much heavier than its actual size.
Lydia’s expression softened. “The bathroom is down the hall,” she instructed gently. “Take your time, and when you're ready, come back out. No rush.”
You glanced at Tess, who gave you a reassuring nod. “Go on,” she urged softly. “I’ll be right here.”
Swallowing hard, you stood up, clutching the test in your hand, and made your way down the narrow hallway to the small, dimly lit bathroom. The old mirror above the sink was cracked, reflecting your nervous expression in fragmented pieces. You took a deep breath, feeling the cool tile under your bare feet, and tried to steady your racing heart.
The minutes stretched out as you stood there, staring at the test in your hands, feeling the weight of this decision. You knew that everything could change in an instant—your life, your relationship with Joel, everything you thought you knew about the world and your place in it.
You finally gathered your courage, took the test, and set it on the sink. You watched it like it might explode, the seconds ticking by with agonizing slowness. You could hear the muffled voices of Tess and Lydia down the hall, their words indistinct but soothing in their familiarity.
And then, after what felt like an eternity, you saw the result. Your breath caught in your throat, your knees feeling weak. You stared at it, your mind struggling to catch up, to process what you were seeing.
It was positive.
You felt a wave of emotions crash over you—fear, confusion, a strange sense of disbelief. You gripped the edge of the sink, needing something solid to hold on to, to keep yourself from spiraling. Tears welled in your eyes, unbidden, and you blinked them back, swallowing hard.
You took a few deep breaths, trying to steady yourself before turning back toward the door. You stepped out of the bathroom, your face pale, your hands trembling slightly.
Tess was the first to notice, her eyes widening as she saw your expression. She moved quickly to your side, her hand gripping your arm gently. “Hey… what’s the result?” she asked, though the look on your face already told her everything.
Lydia stepped closer; her eyes filled with empathy. “It���s okay, sweetheart,” she murmured. “Just take a breath.”
You looked at them both, your voice barely a whisper. “It’s… it’s positive,” you admitted, your heart pounding. “I’m… I’m pregnant.”
Tess squeezed your arm, a mixture of concern and determination on her face. “Okay,” she said firmly. “We’re going to handle this. We’re gonna figure it out.”
Lydia nodded; her expression warm. “You’re not alone in this,” she reassured you. “We’ll do what we can to make sure you’re safe… and healthy.”
You swallowed hard, feeling the tears spill over despite your best efforts to hold them back. “What… what do I do now?” you asked, your voice shaking. “I don’t want anyone to know this, okay?”
“Joel’s has to know” Tess said.
“No.” Your voice came out sharper than you intended, a flash of panic twisting through your chest. “No,” you repeated, firmer this time. “I can’t… I can’t tell him. Not yet.”
Tess’s eyes narrowed slightly, but her expression remained calm. “Why not?” she asked gently, though there was a hint of insistence in her voice. “He deserves to know. He’s going to find out sooner or later.”
You shook your head, feeling the tears start to flow again. “I just… I’m not ready,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “He’s already dealing with so much, with losing contact with Tommy, and… I don’t want to put this on him. Not when I don’t even know how I feel about it yet.”
Lydia placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, her touch steady and grounding. “It’s okay to feel this way,” she said softly. “But Tess is right. Joel will need to know eventually. He’s your partner… in all of this.”
You bit your lip, trying to steady your breath. “I just need some time,” you murmured, feeling a deep ache in your chest. “Please… don’t say anything to him. Not until I figure out how to even say it myself.”
Tess sighed, a mixture of frustration and understanding on her face. “Alright,” she agreed quietly, but you knew she was lying.
She walked towards the door before you saying to Lydia “I’ll pay you later.”
“There is no need, I’d do anything for this one here” she said, squeezing your shoulder.
Tess gave Lydia a small nod, but her expression was tight, her jaw set. You could sense the conflict simmering beneath her calm exterior. You knew Tess well enough to recognize that she wasn’t pleased with your decision. She paused at the door, one hand resting on the frame, before turning back to you.
“Alright,” she said again, this time her voice softer, almost resigned. “We need to get back. Joel’s probably tearing his hair out by now.” There was a hint of a wry smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. You felt a pang of guilt; you could only imagine how worried Joel must be at this point.
Lydia gave you a reassuring squeeze on your shoulder. “Take care of yourself, okay?” she said softly. “And if you need anything, anything at all, you know where to find me.”
You managed a small, grateful smile. “Thank you, Lydia… for everything,” you whispered, feeling a rush of emotion swell in your chest.
Tess opened the door and stepped outside, waiting for you to follow. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves, before moving to join her. As you stepped out into the dimly lit hallway, Tess glanced at you, her expression unreadable.
“You know he’s gonna ask where we were,” she muttered, keeping her voice low. “And you know I won’t lie to him.”
Your heart sank a little. “I know,” you admitted quietly. “Just… don’t tell him yet, okay? I need to be the one to do it, Tess.”
She nodded, but the tension in her shoulders didn’t ease. “You better tell him soon,” she warned her tone more serious now. “Because if you don’t, I will.”
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Two days had passed since you were delivered the news, and as you went through your shift, the morning sun cast a pale light over the QZ, and the usual noise of activity buzzed around you. You focused on your tasks, trying to push through the lingering fatigue and nausea. Despite your efforts to stay steady, a wave of nausea hit you suddenly, making your stomach churn violently.
You stumbled to the side, clutching your midsection as you struggled to keep yourself upright. Before you could react, the contents of your stomach erupted, and you doubled over, throwing up onto the ground. The sudden and intense discomfort left you gasping for breath, feeling a mix of embarrassment and distress.
Nearby, a few of your co-workers glanced over, their faces a mixture of concern and discomfort. One of them approached, a frown on his face. “You alright? Maybe you should sit down or get some fresh air.”
You shook your head, trying to regain your composure. “I’m fine,” you managed to say, though your voice was shaky. “Just… give me a moment.”
The soldier supervising the shift, who had already been keeping an eye on you, approached with a stern expression. “What’s going on? You can’t be throwing up in the middle of work. If you’re sick, you need to go home.”
You tried to protest, but your weakened state made it hard to argue. “I’m okay,” you said weakly. “I just need a minute.”
Before you could say more, Joel appeared, his face etched with concern as he hurried over to you. He placed a supportive hand on your back. “You need to go home,” he said firmly, his eyes filled with worry. “You’re not doing yourself any good pushing through like this.”
The soldier gave Joel a skeptical look. “She needs to get back to work. We can’t afford to have people slacking off.”
Joel’s expression hardened, and he took a protective step forward. “She’s not slacking off. She’s sick. You wanna have her work herself into the ground? Take her home, and I’ll deal with it.”
The soldier seemed taken aback by Joel’s intensity but eventually relented, grumbling under his breath. “Fine. Take her home, Miller. We don’t need sick people on duty.”
Joel nodded, helping you to your feet and wrapping an arm around you for support. “Let’s get you outta here,” he said gently, guiding you toward the exit.
As you walked out of the QZ, the cool air was a welcome relief, but the anxiety and guilt still gnawed at you. “I’m sorry,” you murmured, your voice barely audible.
Joel glanced at you, his eyes softening. “You don’t need to apologize, honey.” With Joel’s reassuring presence beside you, you made your way back to the apartment, each step feeling a bit heavier as you faced the reality of your situation.
When you and Joel arrived back at the apartment, you were both greeted by the quiet, familiar surroundings. Tess was sitting at the kitchen table, her eyes lifting from a worn-out map she’d been studying. She looked up as you entered, her expression shifting from concern to relief.
“Hey, you’re back,” Tess said, standing up quickly. “How are you feeling?”
Joel helped you inside, guiding you to the couch. “She’s not feeling great,” he said, his voice low. “She had another wave of nausea at work.”
Tess crossed the room, taking a seat next to you on the couch. “Alright, let’s get you comfortable,” she said, her tone gentle. She reached for a blanket and draped it over you, her eyes scanning your face with worry.
You nodded weakly, feeling the exhaustion and the strain of the morning catching up with you. “Thanks, Tess,” you murmured, settling into the couch as Joel stood nearby, his hands resting on his hips, clearly trying to mask his concern.
Tess turned to Joel. “You should take a break, too,” she suggested. “I can keep an eye on her for a bit.”
“No.” Joel glanced at you, “I want to know what’s happening, and don’t lie to me” he demanded, especially to you.
You frightened under his stare. You looked over at Tess looking for a way of reassurance.
Tess met Joel’s gaze steadily, her own concern evident. “Joel,” she began softly, “we need to approach this carefully. We don’t want to push her too hard.”
Joel’s eyes softened slightly, but his jaw remained set. “I just want to understand what’s going on. She’s been sick for days, and I need to know why.”
You took a shaky breath, feeling the weight of both their stares. “Joel,” you said quietly, “I’ve been… trying to manage. It’s been hard to admit, but… Tess might be right. I’m not sure how to handle it all.”
Tess reached out, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “What we’re dealing with isn’t just a simple illness. It’s important that we address it properly.”
Joel’s expression shifted from frustration to deep concern. “What are you saying?” he asked, his voice softer now, but still laced with worry.
“Joel, I…I” you wanted to tell him, but you couldn’t find the words or the courage to do it.
Joel's gaze was intense, waiting for you to continue. Tess’s hand on your shoulder was a grounding presence, urging you to find the strength to speak.
You took another deep breath, the lump in your throat making it hard to talk. “Joel,” you began again, your voice trembling, “I’ve been feeling… really sick, and it’s more than just the usual stuff. It’s… it’s because…”
Again, your voice got cut.
“Because of what?” he demanded.
“She is pregnant, Joel” Tess answered for you.
Joel’s face went pale as he absorbed Tess’s words. His eyes flickered between you and Tess, trying to reconcile the new information with what he had seen in you recently. The silence in the room grew heavy, punctuated only by the sound of your shallow breaths.
Joel’s hands dropped to his sides, his expression a mix of shock and disbelief. “Pregnant?” he repeated, almost as if he couldn’t believe it. His voice was a mix of confusion and pain, and he took a step back, needing space to process this revelation.
You nodded, tears threatening to spill again. “I didn’t want to tell you like this,” you said quietly. “I’ve been trying to manage, but it’s been really hard.”
Joel ran a hand through his hair, pacing slightly as he tried to gather his thoughts. He turned away from you, his face contorted with frustration. “Goddammit,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair again, the tension in his body palpable. “This… this is just too much.”
You flinched at his outburst, tears spilling freely now. “Joel, please—” you began, but he cut you off, his voice rising.
“Do you have any idea what this means?” Joel’s tone was harsh, though there was a tremor of anguish beneath the anger. “We’re barely surviving as it is, and now… now you’re telling me you’re pregnant?”
Tess stepped in, placing a firm hand on Joel’s shoulder. “Joel, this isn’t helping,” she said sharply. “She needs support right now, not anger.”
Joel shrugged off her hand, his frustration boiling over. “I know, I know,” he snapped. “But it’s a lot to take in! I can’t just ignore it!”
You watched, your heart breaking as you saw Joel’s struggle to come to terms with the news. “Joel,” you said, trying to reach out to him despite your own pain, “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to add to the stress, but I didn’t know how else to handle it.”
Joel’s eyes met yours, and for a moment, the anger in his gaze faltered, replaced by a deep sadness. “I just… I don’t know how to fix this,”
he said, his voice dropping to a strained whisper. “I thought we had a chance to figure things out. Now everything’s just falling apart.”
Tess moved closer; her voice softer but firm. “Joel, getting angry won’t solve anything. We need to focus on what we can do now. What matters is getting her the help she needs.
“We were supposed to leave to find Tommy and now we won’t be able to.” He said, angry.
“What?” you asked, absorbing the new information.
Joel’s gaze dropped to the floor, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. “We were planning to leave for Tommy’s,” he said, his voice tight with frustration. “But with this… we might not be able to. We’re stuck here now, trying to figure out how to manage all this mess.”
You stared at him, the realization hitting you like a cold wave. “Wait, you were planning to leave? To find Tommy?”
Joel nodded, rubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah, Tess and I thought it was the best chance for us. Tommy’s got connections, and he might be able to help us get through this. But now…” His voice trailed off, the anger and sadness mixing in his eyes. “Now, everything’s fucked up.”
“When were you planning to tell me?” You asked, hurt.
Joel’s face fell at your question, and he looked away, struggling to find the right words. “I wasn’t… I didn’t mean to keep it from you,” he said, his voice rough. “Things were just… so complicated. We thought we had more time to figure things out before we had to tell you.”
You felt a pang of hurt at his words. “So, you were just going to leave me in the dark? You were planning to leave without even talking to me about it?”
Joel looked back at you; his eyes filled with regret. “No, that’s not what I meant. Of course you were coming with us.”
“But now I’m a burden.” You uttered a thought Joel perhaps was having.
Joel’s face tightened at your words, the weight of your accusation clearly hitting him hard. “That’s not what I meant,” he said quickly, his voice strained. “You’re not a burden, never say that again.”
You stood up, your emotions swirling, a mix of hurt and frustration. “Then why does it feel like everything’s falling apart because of me?” you asked, your voice trembling.
You stood up, your emotions swirling, a mix of hurt and frustration. “Then why does it feel like everything’s falling apart because of me?” you asked, your voice trembling. Tears began to spill down your cheeks, the weight of the situation overwhelming you. “I’m pregnant and I don’t know what to do. I thought you were going to hold me and tell me everything was going to be okay, but—fuck this!” You turned abruptly and walked towards the bedroom, trying to escape the chaos of your emotions.
Joel's heart ached as he watched you go, his own emotions roiling. He hesitated for a moment before following you, his steps heavy with regret and worry. He reached the bedroom door just as you were sinking onto the edge of the bed, your shoulders shaking with sobs.
“Hey,” Joel said softly, his voice carrying a note of desperation. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this. I was just… scared and confused. I should’ve been there for you, and I wasn’t.”
You didn’t look up, focusing on trying to control your breathing. “Leave me alone.” You wiped your tears with the back of your hand, feeling his presence beside you.
“Leave, Joel.” You sobbed.
Joel’s heart sank further as you pushed him away, the pain in your voice cutting him deeply. He hesitated at the bedroom door, torn between his desire to comfort you and the need to respect your space.
“Alright,” Joel said softly, his voice almost a whisper. “I’ll give you some time. I’m sorry.” With that, he turned and walked away, leaving you alone with your emotions.
As Joel retreated, Tess quietly entered the room. She found you on the edge of the bed, still shaking with sobs. Without saying a word, she sat down beside you, offering silent support. Tess’s presence was calm and steady, a stark contrast to the turmoil you felt inside.
“Hey,” Tess said gently, placing a comforting hand on your back. “I’m here. Just breathe. We’ll get through this.”
You looked up at her, your eyes red and tearful. Tess didn’t try to force conversation; instead, she simply sat with you, her hand a reassuring presence on your back. Slowly, the comforting silence and Tess’s steady presence began to soothe you. Your breathing gradually steadied, and the tears started to subside.
Tess helped you settle into a more comfortable position on the bed, making sure you were warm and covered. As you drifted off to sleep, the emotional exhaustion finally taking its toll, Tess stayed by your side, her watchful gaze softening with concern.
After a while, Tess glanced toward the door and saw Joel standing there, his expression one of deep regret and sorrow. He looked as though he was trying to come to terms with everything that had happened. Tess gave him a sympathetic nod before turning her attention back to you.
“I know this isn’t the ideal situation,” Tess began, her tone firm yet understanding. “But she needs you now, Joel. More than ever.”
Joel’s jaw clenched, his eyes flicking from Tess to where you lay curled up on the bed, still trembling from your tears. “I don’t know if I can do this, Tess,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, filled with the weight of his fears.
Tess placed a hand on his arm, squeezing gently. “You’ve got to try,” she urged. “She’s scared, and she needs you to be there for her. You don’t have to have all the answers, but you do need to stay. You need to lay down next to her and protect her, like you always have.”
Joel looked at her, conflicted, the fight still lingering in his eyes. But Tess didn’t back down, her gaze unwavering. “She’s not asking you to be perfect, Joel. She’s asking you to be there.”
For a moment, Joel hesitated, the weight of the decision hanging heavy in the air. But then, slowly, he nodded, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction. He walked over to the bed, his movements careful and deliberate as he lay down beside you, his presence cautious but steady.
You stirred slightly, sensing his nearness even in your sleep, and instinctively moved closer to him, seeking the comfort you had always found in his arms. Joel wrapped an arm around you, holding you gently, as if afraid you might break. And as Tess watched, she saw the fear and anger in his eyes slowly give way to something softer.
The room was quiet, save for the sound of your breathing, as you finally found peace in sleep. Joel stayed awake, his thoughts still tangled, but his grip on you never faltered. Tess left the room quietly, leaving the two of you to find whatever solace you could in each other.
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Joel lay beside you, staring up at the cracked ceiling of the apartment. He couldn’t sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, his mind raced, replaying the argument from earlier and the harsh truths he had tried to push away for so long. The room was quiet now, but his thoughts were anything but.
His gaze shifted to you, lying peacefully next to him, your breathing soft and even. You looked so small, so fragile, and it hit him all over again just how much had changed in the span of a few hours. The life growing inside you was a reality he couldn’t ignore anymore, no matter how much he wanted to. He watched you, his heart heavy with a mix of fear, guilt, and something he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in a long time—hope.
The thought of becoming a father again terrified him. After Sarah, after everything he had lost, he didn’t know if he could survive that kind of pain again. But here you were, carrying his child, and it was as if the world was asking him to take that risk all over again. He didn’t know if he had it in him, but as he watched you sleep, so peaceful and trusting, he realized that you were counting on him.
Joel stayed awake through the night, his thoughts swirling with memories of Sarah, the life he had lost, and the uncertain future ahead. He wanted to protect you, to shield you from the harshness of the world outside, but he didn’t know if he was strong enough to protect you both from the dangers that lay ahead. The weight of responsibility felt crushing, yet he knew he couldn’t turn away—not now, not ever.
As the first light of dawn began to seep through the cracks in the curtains, Joel’s exhaustion finally began to catch up with him. His eyes grew heavy, and despite his best efforts, he drifted into a restless sleep, his arm still draped protectively over you.
When he finally woke, the apartment was filled with the pale light of early morning. He blinked groggily, his mind still clouded with sleep, but something felt off. The warmth of your body beside him was gone. He reached out, his hand finding only the empty space where you had been.
Panic flared in his chest as he sat up quickly, his eyes scanning the room. The bed was cold where you had lain, and the room was eerily silent. “Where the hell are you?” he muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair as he forced himself out of bed.
His heart pounded in his chest as he searched the small apartment, calling your name, but there was no answer. The sense of dread he had felt the night before came rushing back, stronger than ever. He knew you couldn’t have gone far, but the thought of you out there alone, especially in your condition, made his stomach twist with worry.
Joel threw on his jacket, his movements frantic as he prepared to leave and search for you. He couldn’t bear the thought of something happening to you, not when he had just realized how much he needed you. As he headed for the door, he stopped short, his hand gripping the doorknob tightly. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down, to think. You were strong, capable—he knew that. But still, the protective urge in him screamed to find you, to bring you back and keep you safe.
With one last glance around the empty apartment, Joel stepped outside, his mind racing as he tried to figure out where you might have gone. He couldn’t lose you—not now, not ever.
Joel knew you had a habit of going to certain places when you needed space—when you needed to clear your head. He made his way through the maze of streets, his mind fixated on finding you. As he walked, his thoughts spiraled. What if you were angry enough to leave the QZ? What if you’d decided you didn’t want to face him again? The guilt from the night before weighed heavily on him, and the fear that he’d pushed you away was overwhelming.
He headed towards a small, secluded spot behind one of the less-used buildings—a place you often went when you needed to be alone. It was out of sight from most people, offering a rare bit of privacy in the crowded QZ. As he turned the corner, his breath caught in his throat. There you were, sitting on an old, crumbling bench, your hands clasped tightly in your lap.
Relief washed over him, so intense it almost brought him to his knees. For a moment, he just stood there, taking in the sight of you. You looked small and lost, your shoulders hunched as if the weight of the world had finally settled on them. But you were safe. You were here. That was all that mattered.
He approached slowly, not wanting to startle you. The crunch of gravel under his boots made you look up, your eyes meeting his. The raw emotion in your gaze—fear, uncertainty, and something that looked like regret—hit him like a punch to the gut.
Joel stopped a few feet away, unsure of what to say, how to bridge the gap that had opened between you. His mouth opened, but no words came out. What could he possibly say to make this better? To fix the hurt he had caused?
“I didn’t mean to leave,” you finally said, your voice small and fragile. “I just…needed to think.”
Joel nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I get it,” he replied, his voice rough with emotion. He took a cautious step closer, wanting to reach out, but unsure if you wanted him to. “I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have let you leave like that.”
You shook your head, a tear slipping down your cheek. “It’s not your fault. I just—” Your voice broke, and you wiped at your eyes, frustration evident in the gesture. “I don’t know how to deal with all of this. It’s too much, Joel. Everything is too much.”
“I don’t know if I can do this,” you whispered, the words barely audible.
Joel crouched down in front of you, his hand still on your shoulder, his gaze locked onto yours. “We don’t have to have all the answers right now,” he said softly.
“There isn’t a place for raising a baby.” You spoke, looking down at your hands, the thoughts swirling in your mind too overwhelming to express. “Lydia could help me,” you whispered, almost to yourself. “She could help me…terminate it.”
Joel’s reaction was immediate, his voice hard and unyielding. “No.” The word came out sharper than he intended, and he saw you flinch. He softened his tone, but the resolve remained. “We’re not doing that.”
You looked up at him, your eyes wide with a mixture of fear and confusion. “But, Joel, what if—” you began, but he cut you off.
“I said no,” he repeated, more firmly this time. “We’re not ending this.”
Tears welled up in your eyes, the intensity of the moment overwhelming you. “But I’m scared, Joel,” you confessed, your voice breaking. “What if we can’t do this? What if it’s too much?”
Joel crossed the room in two long strides and knelt in front of you, his hands gently cupping your face. “I’m scared too,” he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. “But I can’t lose you.”
Tears streamed down your cheeks as you looked into his eyes, the weight of the decision pressing down on you. “I don’t know if I can do this,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.
Joel pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly against his chest. “You’re not alone in this,” he murmured into your hair. “We’ll do it together. Whatever happens, we’ll face it together.”
You clung to him, the fear and uncertainty still gnawing at you, but for the first time since you’d found out, you felt a small measure of comfort. Joel wasn’t backing down, and maybe, just maybe, that was enough.
“I love you and I won’t leave you alone, baby” he whispered, kissing your lips.
Joel’s words wrapped around you like a lifeline, pulling you back from the edge of your fears. You clung to him, your grip tight but gentle, as if you were afraid, he might disappear again. The warmth of his embrace, the sincerity in his voice, and the tenderness of his kiss were all anchors in the storm that had been swirling inside you.
“I love you too,” you whispered back, your voice thick with emotion. You could feel the tears drying on your cheeks, replaced by a sense of tentative hope. The weight of your worries didn’t vanish, but Joel’s presence made them seem a little more manageable.
Joel gently cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the remaining tears from your cheeks. “We’re gonna get through this,” he said firmly. “I don’t know how, but we will. We’re a team. We’ve faced worse before.”
You nodded, finding strength in his conviction. “Okay,” you murmured, feeling a flicker of warmth in your chest. “I’ll try to believe that.”
Joel’s eyes softened as he leaned in closer, pressing his forehead to yours. “We’ll figure it out together,” he promised. “But right now, my focus is taking care of you and the baby.”
Hours later, the apartment was quiet once again, save for the soft hum of a generator and the occasional creak of the building settling into its nightly stillness. You had managed to distract yourself with small tasks around the apartment, trying to keep your mind occupied and calm. The weight of the conversation with Joel still lingered, but his earlier reassurance had brought a sense of calm you hadn't expected.
You were in the middle of organizing some supplies when you heard the front door open. The sound of footsteps followed, and a few moments later, Joel's voice cut through the quiet. It was a familiar, comforting sound, but this time, it was tinged with an edge of frustration.
“You think this is a joke?” Joel’s voice was sharp, and you could hear the anger in his tone.
You quickly moved toward the front of the apartment, concern etching across your face. When you reached the living area, you saw Joel standing in the doorway, his face set in a hard line. Beside him stood a teenager—a girl who looked no older than sixteen. Her clothes were ragged, and she had a wary, defensive posture.
The girl’s eyes flickered between you and Joel, her expression a mix of fear and defiance. Joel’s anger was palpable, and it was clear that the situation was tense.
“Joel, what’s going on?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady, though you felt a pang of anxiety at the sight of the girl and the intensity of Joel’s demeanor.
Joel's eyes shifted to you, the anger in them still evident but now mixed with a hint of exhaustion. “She’s got a name,” he said, gesturing toward the girl. “Her name’s Ellie.”
Ellie looked up at you, her eyes wary but hopeful. Joel’s expression softened slightly as he continued, “Turns out she’s supposed to be delivered to the Fireflies.
You glanced at Joel, understanding dawning. “You’re going to take her to them,” you said, looking back at Ellie. “And you’ll have the chance to find Tommy along the way.”
Joel nodded, a hint of resignation in his stance. “Yeah, that’s the deal,” he said.
“But what about—”
Joel cut you off gently. “I know it’s a lot to take in. We need to leave now. There’s an opportunity for us to get out of the QZ and head to a place where things might be better. But it means we have to move fast.”
Ellie shifted uncomfortably, glancing between you and Joel. “I don’t want to be a problem,” she said quietly. “If it’s too much—”
“No,” you interrupted, shaking your head. “It’s not that. I just… I’m not sure what to do. I mean, this is all so sudden.”
Joel stepped closer, his expression earnest. “We don’t have much time. We need to move quickly before things get worse. I know it’s hard, but this is our chance to get out of here. To find some place where we can start over.”
You looked at Joel, the weight of his words sinking in. “And what about the baby?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “How will we—”
“We’ll figure it out,” Joel said firmly. “We have to. There’s no time to waste. This is our chance to make a new life, to give the baby a better chance.”
You took a deep breath, feeling the gravity of the situation. “Alright,” you said finally, nodding. “I’ll do it. We’ll go. Just… let’s make sure we’re ready.”
Joel’s face softened with relief, and he gave a nod. “Good. Tess will be back soon. We need to pack up and get out before anyone notices we’re gone.”
As you hurriedly packed, a thought clawed at the back of your mind, growing louder and louder until it burst out of you in a shaky whisper. "But I’ll be a burden," you said, your voice breaking. "I’ll slow you down, Joel. You know it."
Joel stopped what he was doing, turning to face you. "No," he said firmly, the word cutting through the tense air like a knife. He crossed the room in a few quick strides and cupped your face in his hands, forcing you to look into his eyes. There was a fierce intensity in his gaze, something raw and unwavering.
"You’re not a burden," he insisted, his voice low and filled with emotion. "You're the reason I wake up every day. I wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for you, baby. Without you… without you, nothing makes sense anymore."
Your breath hitched, and tears welled up in your eyes as you listened to him, his words breaking down the walls you had built around your fears. Joel’s hands trembled slightly as he continued, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped down your cheek.
"So, if this is the chance I have to give you a life you deserve in this shithole," he went on, his voice steady but thick with emotion, "then I’ll take it. I’ll take you with me and give it to you and our baby. I promise you, I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you’re both safe. I won’t lose you. Not now, not ever."
You could feel his sincerity, the depth of his determination to protect you and the life growing inside you. You felt a wave of emotions crashing over you—fear, relief, hope, and love, all swirling together. You closed your eyes, leaning into his touch, letting his words sink in.
"Joel," you whispered, your voice trembling, "I… I don’t know if I’m ready for this, for any of this."
His grip on your face tightened just a bit, his gaze never wavering. "Neither do I," he admitted. "But we’ll figure it out. We’ve faced worse, and we’re still standing. We’ll get through this. Together."
You nodded slowly, your heart hammering in your chest. He leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours, and you could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin. "I’m not letting you go," he murmured.
Ellie stood by the door, her arms crossed, an incredulous look on her face. "Are you seriously risking your pregnant girlfriend?" she asked, her voice sharp with disbelief. She looked between the two of you, clearly struggling to understand the situation.
Joel turned his head, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features, but he kept his voice calm. "It's not that simple, kid."
Ellie scoffed. "Seems pretty simple to me," she shot back. "You're dragging her and… whatever's in there—" she gestured vaguely toward your stomach, "—through god knows what to get me to the Fireflies. What if something happens?"
You took a deep breath, stepping forward to meet Ellie’s eyes. "I know what I'm getting into," you said firmly. "I can take care of myself."
Ellie rolled her eyes. "Yeah, and what if you can't? I mean, what if you get sick or something? What if you get hurt?" Her voice softened, just a bit, the worry evident. "It’s not just about you anymore."
Joel’s jaw clenched, and you could see the conflict in his eyes. He turned to Ellie; his tone more measured. "I get it, Ellie," he said. "But leaving her here… leaving her in this place… that’s not an option either."
Ellie threw her hands up. "Great, so it’s a lose-lose situation."
You couldn’t help but let out a small, dry laugh. "Pretty much," you said, trying to inject some lightness into the tension-filled room.
There was a beat of silence, the reality of the situation settling over everyone. Joel reached for your hand, squeezing it gently. "We’ll figure it out," he murmured, more to you than anyone else.
Within a short time, Tess arrived, and the group of you prepared to leave the apartment, stepping out into the uncertain world beyond the QZ. The prospect of escaping to a new place, combined with the responsibility of ensuring the safety of both Ellie and your unborn child, loomed over you.
Joel led the way, his eyes scanning the area as you followed, Ellie close behind. The journey ahead was fraught with danger and uncertainty, but for the first time in a long while, you felt a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for a new beginning.
As you stepped out of the QZ and into the unfamiliar landscape beyond, the weight of your situation pressed heavily on you. The world outside was a mix of desolate ruins and overgrown wilderness, a stark contrast to the relative safety of the quarantine zone. With each step, you could feel the gravity of the journey ahead, not just for yourself, but for your unborn child and Ellie, who now looked up to you as a beacon of hope and guidance.
Joel walked beside you, his presence a constant reassurance in the chaos. He kept a vigilant eye on the surroundings, his hand occasionally reaching out to make sure you were close. Tess, ever practical, moved ahead, scouting the path and ensuring that it was as safe as possible.
Ellie followed behind, her expression a mix of curiosity and concern. The harsh reality of the world outside the QZ was a stark contrast to the relative safety she’d known, and she looked to you and Joel for guidance and protection.
The landscape seemed to stretch endlessly, with the occasional remnants of civilization scattered among the ruins. The path ahead was uncertain, filled with potential threats and unknown challenges. Yet, with Joel’s hand firmly grasping yours and Tess leading the way, you found a small measure of comfort in the unity of your group.
As you walked, Joel glanced at you occasionally, his gaze softening when he saw the lump forming in your throat.
With each step you took away from the QZ, you felt a mixture of trepidation and hope. The future was uncertain, and the dangers were real, but you were determined to face them head-on, for yourself, for your child, and for the family you were trying to protect.
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*the figure pulls down the hood revealing a head like Ultra's as in only thing that matches it is the hair- its flesh is black hair a bright yet deep red! a symbol acting as his face! and when he drops the robes revealing a skelletal body covered in techno pattern red lines and a four pointed star like one on his chest* Malware: your last mistake was thinking i was a good person! *he slashes at the ground with his clawed hands leaving LARGE glowing claw marks on the floor! *
(I forgot to mention RV going to warn Dark Enchantress a-)
"You're very much outnumbered." Pralina points out. Chocoglaze gets straight to the point, however, and throws the flaming fork end of his chain at Malware's chest. The second his chain is at full length, he yanks it back.
MEANWHILE Red Velvet runs after the gun into Dark Enchantress's house. "Mom, look out!" he barks. Dark Enchantress looks over and holds in a chuckle. "Magic anons again?" she questions
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yandere-romanticaa · 5 months
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she walks in beauty.
🎀 Today is Diluc's birthday. However, instead of focusing on himself, he can't help but to fall into his usual lovesick trap of gentle obsession.
yandere! diluc ragnvidr x fem! reader.
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Ever since he was a young lad, Diluc could recall every single banquet and celebration which was hosted by the Dawn Winery estate. He could still sense the smell of various colorful liquors and taste the endless sea of pastries and cakes which were served at such events, making the inner child in him smile.
However, Diluc was no longer a young child.
Ever since the passing of his father, the need to throw any grand banquets was thoroughly diminished. While yes, there were certain things he could not avoid due to societal expectations, he still made the decision to keep things to an absolute minimum.
His birthday was not one of them. At least, not by his choice.
Everyone and their mother knew what day it was today and Diluc lost count with how many birthday wishes and gifts he had received. He was a little touched with the plethora of people who wanted him nothing other than joy, but those same people quickly became a nuisance because he could not seem to be with the one he actually wanted to be with today.
And there stood Diluc, hidden in the shadowy hallway as he watched his beloved prepare for the upcoming festivities. With both his arms crossed and his left side pressed firmly against the dark wood doorframe, Diluc decided in that moment that there was nowhere else he'd rather be than here.
His red eyes watched you thoroughly like a hawk, making sure to remember the ravishing scenery before him.
As much as you disliked his gifts, you didn't have a choice but to accept them this evening. The gentle sapphire necklace hung around your neck perfectly, the fine silver glimmering gently beneath the flickering candle flames. Diluc's gaze quickly shifted to your arms as they toyed with the various strands of hair at the top of your head, carefully adjusting the matching pin he had gotten you not too long ago.
He felt his heart skip a beat once he caught a glimpse of the wedding ring on your finger, causing him to nearly lose his composure and blow his cover altogether. His own ring seemed to come alive as he felt it around his finger, seemingly pulsing with a firey need to just take you, to see the light in your eyes, to beg you to please forgive him-
Even now, he could still hear you weep, for each tear felt like a stab straight into his bleeding heart.
Please, don't lock me away, you pleaded.
"I will be with no one but you. I will give you everything you desire but please Diluc-
Do not keep me as a prisoner!"
He sighed as he fidgeted with his gloved fingers. Diluc hated himself for doing this to you, for making you so utterly miserable. He was the one who took you away, it was him who had stolen that precious smile away from you. If you had been a normal couple perhaps this evening could have been more bearable. Perhaps he could have even enjoyed it, with you by his side.
But that was not how things were going to play out.
Diluc was stuck in a Hell of his own making. Every single tear that you had shed and will shed - that was all on him. Money can buy a lot of things but your love was not one of them. A new surge of determination was born deep inside of Diluc on that night of his birthday and he finally knew what his wish was.
He wished to make amends. Perhaps he could learn to live without your love, even if the mere thought made his teeth shake in fury and heart cry out in blind sorrow.
But he needed you to know that you were loved. He needed you to know that he was going to keep you safe. He was going to love you until his very last breath and even then, he would wait for the day of your sweet forgiveness.
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🥀 TAGS: @genshinarchives, @mod-kisa-blog, @juuuuuj101010, @kalopses-sonderes, @mayulli, @b10h4z4rd, @xiaopleasecomehome, @saturnalya, @alatusprinz, @lakxcpsta, @mewmeowmika, @ranposgirlboss, @goldenglow149
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Happy birthday to this wonderful man. He was my first ever husband in Genshin Impact, he deserves something extra sweet from yours truly.
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iloveboysinred · 2 days
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Toji is very forgetful. Being caught up in his line of work to then come home and be with you and the kids, he tends to let a lot of things slip his mind without meaning to.
You’ve kinda self-appointed yourself to be his personal planner and calendar.
Appointments, school events, birthdays, errands..you make sure to keep them fresh in his mind. Even though he cant attend some of the events himself, it makes him feel less guilty to know and remember that they’re coming up.
So, when your birthday is right around the corner, Toji makes sure to plan ahead. He gets you gifts and asks Tsumiki and Megumi to help bake you a nice pretty cake, setting up decorations and buying an assortment of cheap party hats.
When you come home and the house is dark, completely empty as far as you can see— you’re pleasantly surprised when all the lights suddenly turn on and a big, cheerful “surprise! Happy birthday!” greets you as you walk into the kitchen. Your heart feels warm when you see the big, droopy cake smeared in pink frosting, colorful sprinkles and about 10 candles stuck around the edges—your name written sloppily across the top.
Toji hands you the party hat, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek as Megumi and Tsumiki entrap you in a hug.
“Happy birthday, baby” Toji smirks, his big arms pulling you to his chest. “Didn’t think i’d remember, did ya?”
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Masterlist
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Based on this amazing ask.
Dark Thraller - Part 1
Azriel x HewnCity!Reader, Arranged Marriage
Something darker than the night itself lurks within the Hewn City. Something dark and lovely and his. Azriel suddenly finds himself with a bride that he never wanted but when their marriage may be the one thing that saves their world as they know it, duty trumps all.
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The female watched from shadows behind the archway connecting a granite corridor to the throne room of the Hewn City, peering into the busy room. She could smell the fear simmering within the room, it stoked at her own power, building as it fueled her senses. She shouldn’t be here, to be caught could mean death, perhaps worse, but this was her only chance to find the Seer.
Azriel stood cross-armed, hazel eyes honed in on Elain Archeron as she gracefully meandered through the throne room of the Hewn City. Its lecherous denizens ogling her as if she were nothing more than a whore in a pleasure house. Her dress was modest, a whispy train of tulle falling from her shoulders and trailing behind her, the perfect decoy for hiding his shadows as they listened in for tonight’s intended target. The gown hugged her slim figure just enough to give a tease of the lithe female form beneath.
He rolled his eyes as he took her in, reminded of Cassian’s insistence that black wasn’t her color but he was wrong - she was the ethereal moon to the Night Court’s midnight skies.
———
Elain knew she did not belong here. Not within the stone walls of this forsaken city. Not because she was too fragile. No, despite the fact that her sisters coddled her and the rest of the Inner Circle treated her like a delicate flower that would wither at the slightest touch, it was often overlooked that she had slain the King of Hybern. Sure, Nesta received credit for the final blow, but it was Elain who had been vital that day.
She didn’t belong here because of its own inherent darkness that mingled so well with the darkness within her own soul. She’d always tried to make the best of life, but years of poverty, being forced into the cauldron, losing Graysen, an unrequited mating bond, their fathers death, being held captive in Hybern’s camp, nearly losing Feyre during Nyx’s birth, the strife didn’t hold a candle to the pain she felt from being granted the so-called “gift” of sight and having no way to decipher it. Her visions were not light and airy, they were dark and inky, ominous at best.
The few times she’d visited this sect of the Night Court, her visions plagued her. Glimpses of gods and shadows, sacrificed maidens, life and death. And then, there was last time. The collision of an outside force greeting her own power, something fearsome and yet- gentle.
Azriel’s shadows gave a tug on the cape of Elain’s gown, working of their own accord. To Azriel’s chagrin, the last time they’d been here his shadows pushed boundaries, ignoring commands to stand down as they searched the space. They’d trailed Elain who had a particularly concerning vision of shadows upon water and whispers of death.
With the concerns of Koschei following the events with the Queens on the continent, it was enough to garner another visit. So, here they were. Azriel watching Elain like a hawk as she and his shadows searched the place.
Eyes diverted away from Elain as the main act arrived, Rhys and Feyre loosening the grip on their power as the doors flew open- their steps echoing throughout the now silent chamber as the High Lord and High Lady approached the dais. The crowd, having learned from previous reprimand, fell to their knees before their rulers.
It was then that Azriel’s shadows completely shrouded Elain, granting her cover as she dipped down a corridor that Azriel had very clearly lectured them NOT to go down. He wasn’t about to risk Elain’s safety, even if it meant failing the mission at hand of garnering more sight into these possible Koschei visions.
Elain took no more than ten steps down the corridor when a voice startled her from the shadows. “You.”
Elain gasped as Azriel’s shadows created a wall of shadow before her.
Not to protect her - but to conceal the source of the voice.
How very strange.
A lump formed in Elain’s throat as she mustered her courage for a moment, composing herself before squaring her shoulders and holding her head high.
“Yes?” She asked.
“You’re the Seer.” The voice spoke again. Feminine. Young, likely twenty or thirty but it was hard to tell with the fae.
“I am.” Elain spoke firmly. “And you are?”
The voice started before turning into a strangled gasp. The shadows cleared for Elain to find Azriel, holding the female from behind with Truth-Teller against her throat.
“I know what you are.” His deep voice spoke into her ear, his heated breath sending chills through the female.
“Azriel.” Elain spoke. “She was only curious. She didn’t harm me.”
Azriel didn’t move a muscle, only lifting his hazel eyes from behind the female to meet Elain’s gaze. “You don’t know what she is. The danger you were in.”
The cool blade pressed against the female’s throat and if it wasn’t for the obvious threat she posed, Azriel would have had a hard time missing the way her body fit so enticingly against his, the way her ass-
He growled. “Quit it.”
“Quit what?” The female puzzled.
Through gritted teeth, Azriel warned, “Your powers will not affect me, Dark Thraller.”
Elain kept quiet but she didn’t miss the smirk that rose on the female’s face at that. There was something about this female that resonated with her. She had a gentle presence, soft in all the right places to enhance her feminine appearance in a way that would leave most underestimating her, yet Elain knew there was more to this female, something deeper, something darker than her bright eyes let on.
Someone who could understand her.
———————————
Keir burst through the dungeon door first, followed by the general of his Dark Bringer forces and his second in command, Lord Thanatos.
“Keir, how nice of you to join us.” Rhys mused. Arrogant smirk plastered on his face.
Rhys and Azriel had spent the past two hours with the female, named Y/N, in the dungeons of the Hewn City. She was a Dark Thraller. An incredibly rare power of ancient fae, until today, it had been thought of as myth. She could not only wield darkness and shadow on her own accord but she could steal it, borrowing directly from the source, hence Azriel‘s shadows obscuring her from Elain. It was fortunate that he’d taken her by surprise when he’d snuck up on her, able to pull his shadows from her thrall and regain them as his own. Though they weren’t particularly eager to return to his side. He was still pissed about that.
The fact that Keir had kept this female a secret was enough to chap Azriel’s ass too. Mor’s father should have reported the female the moment her powers manifested, yet, he’d hoarded her. And much like with Mor, Keir and Lord Thanatos planned to breed her, using her as a bargaining chip in an arranged marriage to some noble on the continent that she had never laid eyes on.
“Release my daughter, immediately.” Lord Thanatos boomed.
The female remained silent, still, but Azriel didn’t miss the way her skin paled at his command. Rhys let out a dangerous laugh, not the warm laugh of the brother Azriel knew so well, but the bitter laugh of a High Lord about to put a subordinate into his place, or the ground, depending on how generous he was feeling.
Both males froze in place, faces turning cherry red as they fought against invisible restraints. Rhys placed an errant hand into his left pocket, a cruel smirk plastered across his face. “It seems I have not given enough attention to the seat of my court in recent years if this is how its people choose to greet their High Lord.”
His violet eyes narrowed as he took a tone befitting of the most powerful High Lord in Prythian’s history. “Kneel”
And before they had a chance to do so on their own accord, Rhys forced them into a submission. A gentle - considering the force he was capable of - reminder that they were indeed the lesser males in the room.
Rhys released his hold on the males as they gasped for air, remaining knelt until their High Lord dismissed the formal stance.
“It seems, Keir, that you and Lord Thanatos have been keeping this little gem a secret.” Nodding his head toward the restrained female, who easily could have broken the shadows to her submission. A test, then. To see how impulsive she was with her power, what manner of control she practiced over it.
Azriel didn’t trust her. Thralling? Yes, a Dark Thraller typically attracted darkness and shadow with their thralling abilities but how far did her capabilities go? Could she work on the minds of those wielding darkness as well?
Azriel broke from his inner thoughts to find the female staring at him with wide eyes. She was nervous. He stepped closer to her, keeping his gaze firm and narrowed but to his surprise, the nervous energy surrounding her did not increase. In fact, she seemed to relax slightly.
That was certainly a first for him in these dungeons.
Azriel had been so focused on her that he missed the last bit of groveling from Keir and Lord Thanatos. His attention once again fixed on the males and his High Lord as Rhys summoned a large table and five chairs.
Keir scoffed. “This is a conversation for males, she-“ he spoke the pronoun with venom, “has no business in these affairs.”
Rhys waved a dismissive hand at the male. “I always forget what antiquated views you harbor. At this table, she has a place. In fact, she has more of a place here than you do, since you so rudely interrupted our-” interrogation “conversation.”
“Azriel.” Rhys nodded toward the bound female.
Begrudgingly, Azriel released his restraints on the female. She stood, slowly, maintaining eye contact with him as she smoothed her satin gown, the fabric clung deliciously to her curves but Azriel was most taken by those mesmerizing eyes of hers as they held his cold stare. No malice, or hatred lay in her own eyes, the emotion was something that made his heart lurch. The same look a snared creature would give a hunter that held its fate in their hands, the same look a young boy once gave his cruel half-brothers as fuel soaked his hands while they held the flaming match.
Y/N broke her eye contact and approached the table, holding her head high. To her- and everyone in the room not named Rhysand’s - shock, he pulled the chair at the table’s head out and motioned for her to sit. He kept the arrogant mask plastered on and waited until she accepted that he was serious, shifting uncomfortably for a moment, before seating herself. That nervousness once again returning as she looked to the two Court of Nightmares males to her right.
Truly, Azriel didn’t trust her but he couldn’t bear to see that look on her face. He’d met her two hours ago and already knew she was too good to be intimidated by these pricks.
Azriel stepped to Keir, seated directly to next to her, Rhys seated to her left - and flatly commanded “move.”
Keir huffed an insidious laugh. “I don’t take orders from dogs.”
Azriel remained stoic, refusing to deign the pompous male with even a breath of irritation. He’d been called far worse
Rhys didn’t bat an eye at the command from his Spymaster, knowing Mor’s history, of course he would feel inclined to keep him distanced from a female stuck in a nearly identical situation as the one she was faced with all those centuries ago. “Keir, you truly are going out of your way to play the fool today. Keep it up and maybe we can reenact what happened to your arm the last time you disregarded the station of one of my Inner Circle?”
Keir bristled slightly before tucking his shoulders in a show of submission, pushing himself up, and swapping places with the Shadowsinger.
Azriel didn’t miss the slight ease of tension in Y/N’s jaw as he sat, though her heartbeat remained racing as indicated by the visible thrumming of her pulse in her neck and quickened breathing. His shadows gravitated toward her, intertwining with her ankles and then scurried away when she looked to them in a reprimanding manner.
By the rather adorable scowl furrowing across her brow, he had a feeling she hadn’t used her thralling abilities on them either. Interesting.
For all that they were excellent for spying, the things were incurably nosey to a fault.
Clearing his throat, Rhys began “It has been brought to my attention that lady Y/N is to be married to a male on the continent, not as a marriage of love but as one of title. Given her unique powers I propose that we arrange a marriage within our own court that will be both advantageous to the Night Court and to her in terms of power. Do you wish to elaborate on who you intend to marry her off to?”
Azriel noted the bead of sweat on Lord Thanatos’ brow as he glanced to Keir, vaguely-concealed concern flitting between the two.
Keir cleared his throat. “The male is simply a lesser-noble from a wealthy family on the continent. She is not worth the attention, your grace. Her power will be of no use to your court. They’re nothing more than an amusing party trick.”
Leaning back in his chair, Rhys held his chin between his thumb and forefinger in a show of consideration, before giving a grin. “I do enjoy parties. And it seems as if I could find a suitor that would be far more advantageous considering this unnamed lesser-noble is not even worth noting. Don’t you agree?”
Y/N seemed to shrink in her seat but what Azriel read on her face looked almost like “hope.”
What had she been put through for her future to be discussed as if she were nothing more than loose marks to be spent frivolously and still feel hope? He grit his teeth at the way Rhys carried on with the act, though he knew it was simply that- an act.
Silence filled the space and Azriel didn’t miss the way his High Lord’s gaze went vacant, communicating with someone. A small hitch in the breath of Y/N clued him in to exactly who he was communicating with.
“I’ve decided.” Rhys purred. “Lord Thanatos, your lovely daughter will wed my Shadowsinger.”
Outrage filled the room as the males let out shouts of disapproval before Rhys let his darkness fill the room. “Am I not High Lord? Do I not have final say in the affairs of my denizens?”
The males were silent. Rhys loosened his power further, a rumble sending loose dirt falling from the ceiling of the room onto the table before them. “I expect an answer.”
Lowering their gazes in submission, it was Keir who spoke first, “Yes, High Lord.”
Lord Thanatos let out a growl, shooting a violent glare in Keir’s direction.
“I expect an answer, Lord Thanatos.” Rhysand challenged.
After another moment, he finally caved in to the show of power. “Yes, High Lord.” The male growled.
The darkness faded as Rhys clapped his hands together. “Excellent. This evening just became far more interesting. We shall wed the two tonight!”
To his credit, Azriel said nothing, not one single show of disapproval or questioning.
“You two may be dismissed. We will coordinate the details of the wedding.”
As the two males, completely dumbfounded, exited the cell. The female looked to the floor, avoiding Azriel’s stony gaze- the gaze of her soon-to-be husband. Which was for the best as Azriel sent her a glare reserved for the worst of traitors. He did not want this, he wanted nothing to do with the female. His heart was destined to belong to the middle Archeron sister. He was to share his life with HER, not this strange enigma from the Hewn City.
Moments later, Elain and Feyre entered the room. Elain’s expression unreadable as they retrieved the female, Cassian and Nesta flanking them protectively as they led her off to prepare for the ceremony.
————
Rhysand knew he was a bastard. He took the corresponding show of rage from Azriel in stride, unable to disagree with the cold words and show of opposition to his order to marry the female.
What Azriel hadn’t seen was the terror Rhysand had gleaned in her mind. Her power was not a party trick, in fact she’d been hidden away beneath the Hewn City and put through rigorous training from the first moment her powers emerged. This female was trained to be used as a weapon and treated as such, there was nothing humane or loving about the environment she’d grown up in. But far more concerning than even the abhorrent conditions she had been brought up in was the undiluted panic regarding her impending nuptials. She indeed did not know who she was to be married to but she had suspicions.
Not to be wed to an unknown lord from the continent, not even to the highest ranking of nobility, but to a supreme being of death and decay, to Koschei himself.
And if her suspicions were correct, a power like hers in his hands would bring immeasurable suffering, an end to the world as they knew it. She was the token Keir needed to barter for his own rise to power. Ruling just the Court of Nightmares was never enough for a greedy bastard like him.
“The only way we can get her out of here is by wedding her to you tonight. If she’s wed, they have no contest to-” Rhys bristled as he spoke of the female as anything less than her own entity “They cannot claim ownership of her if she is wed. We cannot risk another moment of her being in their hands, Az. This marriage does not have to last forever, just long enough to ensure she is out of their hands and that we are in her good graces. Your duty is to keep her happy and protect her, if she ends up in the wrong hands, Azriel- more than just our own rule is at stake, Prythian, the world, could be doomed.
Guilt pressed in on the High Lord. If there were any other way, he would take it, but for now this was the most humane route.
And as Rhys shared the female’s suspicions of Koschei with Azriel, he understood. He hated every moment of this but he understood. He didn’t have to love her, he didn’t have to like her even, but he could stomach her as he did with any other undesirable duty.
_________
Azriel stood on the dais before a crowd of sneering Hewn City denizens. For this, his leathers would do. He was to send a message of power to the Court of Nightmares and removing his siphons would not do. Rhys and Feyre remained seated on their thrones appearing bored as they took in the quickly thrown together wedding, little more than wine and night-blooming jasmine marked the occasion. Though Rhys would have loved watching Lord Thanatos have to hand his daughter over to the Shadowsinger, he didn’t want him anywhere near her. She had dealt with enough coldness from the male in her twenty-five years of life, never again would she have to suffer through her father’s unkind hands upon her.
So, Azriel waited, his eyes focused solely on Elain as the doors opened and music began to play. Cassian would escort her to the dais. Azriel spared no glance to his bride as the audience turned in her direction. Even Elain who had caught his gaze briefly, and Lord Thanatos and his equally hateful wife who stood behind her, turned to marvel at the bride striding up the aisle. Azriel’s heart raced. He wanted Elain. His shadows pulled on him. Coaxing him to divert his gaze from the Archeron sister. No. He wanted Elain. His heart beat wildly as a tug pulled at him. He would not look. This female was not who his heart belonged to. He belonged to Elain. Azriel’s shadows hissed in his ears to look as his heart urged him to spare a glance in her direction.
Finally, he shifted his gaze and time stood still. Before him was the most beautiful female he’d ever seen. No longer did she appear meek, or nervous- she stood taller with her head held high. A cobalt blue gown hugged her curves, dipping down to reveal her ample cleavage, the fabric clung to the curve of her hips, caressing her upper thighs before flaring out toward the bottom. Her knuckles tightly gripped a bouquet of morningstar flowers and delphinium. Where the dress had been conjured from, Azriel had no idea. The flowers were likely Elain’s doing. He tried to turn his head back to Elain but he couldn’t bring himself to avert his gaze away from the beauty before him.
His shadows left his side, flowing down the aisle and swirling around the bottom of her gown, giving the appearance that they were carrying her to him. The crowd gasped at the illusion and Azriel noticed the surprise on her face. Either she was an excellent actress or she truly didn’t have the control over her powers.
But Rhys had said that she’d been trained from the time they manifested. Surely they weren’t going to her on their own accord. Was her thrall that powerful?
Azriel nearly felt his shoulders slump in disappointment as her gaze shifted to Elain who awaited at the foot of the dais to retrieve the bouquet.
As Elain stepped forward, a tear was heard followed by a gasp. Azriel looked to see that the bottom half of Elain’s dress had torn. Her cheeks flushed, eyes wide with shock. Before Azriel could react, he felt loss of control over his shadows as Y/N flung her arms out commanding them in Elain’s direction. Azriel’s heart lurched, fury clouding him at this attack on Elain, he stepped forward only to halt in his tracks as two shadows darted out to restrain Y/N’s mother, and the remaining shadows shrouded Elain completely.
Y/N hurried toward Elain, stepping into the confines of the shadows, now shrouding the both of them. Azriel almost smirked as Y/N’s voice loudly echoed from the shadows “Don’t mind her. She’s even uglier inside than that sneer she wears on her face, which says a lot.” A soft giggle from Elain reached Azriel’s ears. “Come on, let’s get you something else to wear. Can your sister bring some wine?”
The crowd parted as the shadowed females made their way out of the crowd, Nesta and Cassian following suit.
This female stopped her own wedding to come to the aid of a female she didn’t even know. Azriel didn’t know what to think of that but he did know that he couldn’t let himself fall for her. He wouldn’t let himself fall for her.
——————————————————
A/N: this will be a 2 or 3 part series! I am too tired to proofread so if there were a bunch of typos, no there weren’t.
Tags:
ACOTAR general: @lilah-asteria @thecollegecowgirl @mochibabycakes @nickishadow139
Requested tags based on previous excerpt posted: @erikan809 @thalia-as-blog
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dcxdpdabbles · 9 months
Text
DCxDP Fic idea: What's the Rule again?
It starts with Wes Weston accidentally banishing Danny from his haunt. He didn't mean to, and he panicked along side Sam and Tucker when Danny was effectively evicted Danny from Amity Park.
See the four have become tight-knited friends every since the trio started talking to Wes back during the summer between freshman and sophomore year.
During that time, Wes's other friends had drifted apart once Wes' attention moved from basketball to ghosts- specifically Phantom. Danny had felt at fault that he was left a loner because of his secret identity and had invited Wes to sit with them at the Nasty Burger the second week of Summer break.
Wes was suprise to find out that Sam, Tucker and Danny were much better friends then the ones he hanged out with since third grade. He was used to people only speaking to him in class or the few times they hang out on breaks but the trio would message him about every single thought or meme they had. They could laugh togther until tears fell from thier eyes and they couldn't breath over the silliest of topics.
Wes also found out that the trio was supportive of all their interests. Sure, his old teammates and friends didn't make fun of him for crocheting or painting, but they wouldn't accompany him to an art market. Nor would they actually wear the scarves and gloves he made them.
They sure as hell didn't volunteer to help him run a booth to sell his own crocheting pieces after encouraging him to get a table. And they wouldn't cheer loudly when he made his first sale.
Wes also wouldn't have happily gone with them to an observatory, a Dark Poem Night, or even a tech expo. But he found that he had the time of his life watching Danny, Sam, and Tucker nerd out at the events much as much as he did at his own.
He also never had anyone he knew would be down to do him favors or even take notes for him when he was out sick.
So he became close friends with them, passing sophomore year with far more enjoyment than any other grade, then Junior year came and went just as fast and as fun. It was their last summer as high school students, so Wes wanted to do as many new activities as the four could together before Senior year.
Who knew what would happen to their little group after graduation? He wants to think they would all remain best friends but he's heard so many stories of people drifting apart that Wes was afraid of risking it.
That's why he researched urban myths and legends around the world regarding ghosts- more then any research paper he's ever done- and jokingly asked Danny to partake in some of them as a halfa.
They joked and laughed- throwing salt in a circle around Danny, lighting a candle for him to use Morse code with- but it wasn't until Wes got to the one where he tried smoking Danny out with a banishing spell he found in an old book that things turned from funny to horrible.
It worked
Danny was flung from his haunt- effectively banishing him from the area he was haunting. Dann just happens to be haunting all of Amity Park, so he ends up on the outskirts of town, unable to cross the invisible line.
Wes practically choked on his tears as he apologized for Danny not being able to cross back in, but the other three quickly informed him that they, too, took part in it, and it was no one's fault. Danny just had to find a way to reverse the banishing spell.
The only problem was that the book pages Wes found online were only on the banish spell itself and nothing else. He couldn't even find the whole book since it belonged in a private family library.
The family library was located in the most dangerous city in America. Gotham.
The library also belongs to a very wealthy family that had recently all but perished except for their lone heir- Timothy Drake.
Now Wes attempted to contact Timothy Drake in hopes of having the other teenager send him copies of the book, but he never got a reply. He thinks it was due to not explaining why he needed the book and ending up sounding like a bot or a scam.
With each passing day of Drake not responding Danny's situation grew worse. Jazz luckily covered for them, claiming to have signed Danny up for some camp so his parents wouldn't think he was missing.
That would only work until school started, which was a time limit that was weighing on all their shoulders as they tried to find a counterspell.
Jazz, Tucker, Sam, and Wes each took turns driving out of town to bring him food and a change of clothes so Danny could figure out his situation, having to do it in shifts to not alert any of their parents.
However, without his haunt to pick up natural exoplasm, Danny was growing weaker and weaker by the day, looking half stave out in the little motel room Sam rented for him as they tried to get him back into the town.
Danny needed to either make his way back to his haunt or go somewhere that was so infected with ectoplasm that it actually felt cursed.
Tucker found the solution to all their problems with a few hacking skills that he learned to fight off Technus' invasive attempts of his personal tech.
"A full ride to Gotham Academy?" Wes' mom gasped staring at the acceptance letter her son eagerly showed her. "With a promised full ride to any university in America?!"
"Yeah, Tucker, Sam, Danny, and I all got accepted for our work on clean energy generators. We sent it in for the Wayne scholarship, and we won! The only thing is that it's a requirement to graduate from high school in Gotham. I have to go!" Wes gasped, eyeing both his dad's and Kyle's doubtful frowns. He couldn't afford for them to say no when Tucker had worked so hard to bump them up as Winners. Bruce Wayne's computer security is no joke. "This is the once in a life time opportunity!"
"But where would you live?" His dad asks, shaking the letter. "Wes, this is clear across states, and it only covers school expenses."
"Sam's parents bought her a house. She's going to rent us some of the extra rooms." It was a lie; her parents would never let four boys- especially these boys- rent from their daughter. She told them that the school provided co-dorm rooms "I can get a job at the local library- I already sent them my resume and got a call for a interview."
"What will you do for food?" Kyle asks. "We both know you can't cook."
"I can't, but Danny does. He's amazing in the kitchen."
Here, his parents share a loaded look. "So you'll be living with the Fenton boy....."
"Well. Yeah? I already said that?" He returns, confused, and Kuule coughs to cover a laugh. Confused he stares at his older brother, who quirks a grin at him.
"Don't worry about it." Kyle laughs, but his wiggling eyebrows tell Wes he should worry a lot about it. He would inisit a little more to find out what Kyle knew, but he needed to convince his parents more.
Eventually, after five days of attempting, Wes got their permission and could tell his friends, who all shared the same results. The remainder of the summer is spent preparing for their move- finding the house, getting it furnished, packing their things, transferring schools- it's a lot, and he's never been so grateful for Sam's wealth.
She hires people to get it all done for her-including hiring a trailer to take their four cars-, so he only has to worry about his packing. The four meet up at the airport on the day they live, flying first class thanks to Sam's grandmother.
Tearful goodbyes and good luck from their families leave them all a bit down but they board the plane and take off without too much trouble.
While on the plane, Sam turns to the boys. "Does everyone remember the phases of the plan?"
"Phase one: Blend into Gotham until we find Timothy Drake" Tucker states, pushing up his glasses
"Phase two: Get Drake to invite us over to his house and find the book," Danny tacks on, tapping his foot on the ground.
"Phase three: Find all the pieces for the counterspell- usually scattered around the magical family's ancestral home- and get Danny home!" Wes shouts, raising a fist in the air.
Sam nods, looking satisfied. "And what are we not allowed to do? Danny?"
"Become a vigilante when my ectoplasm is on a limited intake" Danny grumbles, sinking into his chair. "Let it to the Bats and keep my head low."
"Good. Tucker?"
"I'm not allowed to hack into anything because it can gain the attention of the Bats or Mr.Wayne, and then we'll be on a wanted list" Tucker sighs "No matter how much fun it would be to battle it out with the legendary Oracle."
"That's right. I'm not allowed to go anywhere near Poison Ivy no matter how much I want to yell at her to go fix the coal riffs and cut down forests instead of wasting her powers on the stupid heist." Same all but bites, and then she turns her attention to Wes, who startles.
"Wes?"
"Wait, I have a rule?"
"Course, man," Tucker laughs. "We all have rules."
"But I'm not interesrted in anything in Gotham besides the Drake grimoire!"
"Wes," Danny says gently, his soft baby blue eyes making him a little hot under the collar as they stare into his soul. "You're not allowed to fall in love with any of the Bats."
Wes mind blanks, then reboots, "Excuse me!?"
"We know you had a crush on all of us here Wes and Val" Sam laughs when he turns wide eyes at her. "It's cute but you really shouldn't try for the Bats. They're the violent sort"
"What?!"
"Yeah, you have a type, and it's a hero or hero adjacent." Tucker shrugs "It's cool."
Wes can only gape at them, no matter how much he tries to convince them; otherwise, the three refuse to remove his rule. He is highly offended by it.
Yes, he's never really gone out with Team Phantom, just because when he joined the group, most of Danny's rouges were long gone leaving behind the tiny ones that he could handle on his own, but he wasn't into heroes!
And okay- maybe, maybe at one point or another he may have had slight crushes on his friends but they were quick and gone before the first school year together!
So the rule is utterly ridiculous!
At least, he thinks so until five days later when he's trying to find his way around the new neighborhood and gets caught up in a mugging. He could have quickly taken the mugger- humans had nothing on ghosts- but he attempted to talk the young adult out of it when Red Robin swooped in like a knight in shining armor.
He may have just stared at the hero's tight-skin outfit instead of letting the hero know that he could handle it, and he may have made a fool of himself when Red Robin asked if he was right.
"Yeah tots fine" He babbles. Ugh, who says tots?! He wants to stop talking but when Wes gets nervous he tends to just word vomit and he could hear himself doing it now. "You know who else is fine?"
Red Robbin raises a brow, likely knowing the pickup line. Cowering, Wes changes the answer in a panic. "Timothy Drake!"
Red Robin stills. "Come again?"
"Timothy Drake, a boy in my class! He's fine that you think he was part siren or something. You've seen him, right? I mean you have eyes!" He repeats with a squeal "I want to get into his private liberty!"
"Do you?" Red Robin tilts his head, a slight smirk forming on his mouth. "You should try flirting with him then. Maybe he can give you a tour."
"Oh, I want more than a tour!"
Why did he say that?!
At least the hero in front of him laughs until a shout has them both looking away.
Danny is running down the street screaming his name, thank the Ancients. When Wes turns around to wave at him, Red Robin vanishes without a sound or trace.
Like a ghost.
Oh no, that's hot.
"Danny, I broke the rule"
"For Ancient's sake, it hasn't even been a month."
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nervousd · 1 month
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The Redemption of Earl Nottingham
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#SYNPOSIS . Unable to stand your husband any longer you decide to flee from him
#WARNING(S) . Controlling husband, possessiveness, character death, arranged marriage, violence, brief description of blood.
#CHARACTER(S) . Earl Nottingham
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How did it end up like this?
Being confined to your own chambers like a child while your husband belittled you for entertaining the advances of men. You were innnocent and yet your husband believed the words of others. As a woman of virtue and a married one at that— it appalled you that your husband would dare think of you as a harlot. At the end of your argument you were left with a ghostly complexion and your husband seething in rage.
You cried and yelled for him to let you out or for anyone to release you. But there was no response, only the echoes of your own pleas bouncing off the walls. No one would help you, having no source of companionship— not that you had any before. Seeing as how your husband has refrained you from attending any social events. It was just you and the various amount of books stacked in their shelf. When your had ran out of tears only a simmering fury threatened to erupt underneath your skin. You had vowed there and than, to refuse and be kept as a prisoner. How dare he act like a husband! For years he had ignored your very precense in this manor and now he believes he has some say over you?
And so what if you did entertain that mans advances?! He was kind, handsome and an honorable man. How could you not? When your husband could barley hold a torch against him. And now— he dare to act in such a manner? You raged— oh how you raged. You had been treated unfairly your whole life you couldn't bare it any longer. You would leave this manor and forsake this accursed marriage. It was a scandalous decision— but not one you would think twice.
The soft tap on the door broke your sense of thoughts, creaking open revealing a maid holding a tray, “ I have brought you lunch, madam “ the maid announced, her voice was devoid of any warmth. Before the maid could offer the tray, you had pushed her aside. Startled, the maid stumbled back, bewildered by your act of aggression. You hurried past her without a word, leaving the maid standing in the corridor. Your footsteps echoed loudly against the polished floor— not that you cared. You were leaving this mansion and for good. Suddenly, your husband appeared at the end of the corridor where they connected with the stairs leading down towards the front door— towards freedom. His eyes were ablaze with anger as he intercepted your path.
Your husband— Ian Nottingham, stood tall and imposing. His dark disheveled hair fell slightly around his angular face, framing his green eyes with an ominous look. His scar traced a jagged path on his left cheek— a reminder of the battle he fought and the wounds that have left him scarred. In the years, you've been married to him not once did you fully look at him. He was a terrifying man— with unpredictable behavior; he would throw fits of anger that shook the manor whole. His brows were furrowed into creases, adding into the intensity of his gaze. His jaw was set in a firm line, betraying the conflict within him.
“What?” His voice rumbled with venom. “Do you find me even more repulsive up close? Hmm?” Fury twisted his face as he spat the words. His hand shot out, gripping your wrist tightly, causing you to cry out in pain from his rough handling. His imposing frame loomed over you, the flickering candles casting ominous shadows on his face. He was terrifying, “Is that why you were unfaithful? Was the baron so charming? Did that snake promise you eternal love?” he snarled, shaking your wrist violently.
With tears in your eyes, you shouted, “Think of it however you want!” You pulled at your wrist, struggling fiercely against his grip. His jaw locked, “No matter what you do to try to change this, dearest, you are still my wife in the eyes of both men and heaven, and I your husband “
It felt as if the world was shattering around you. Husband? How dare he call himself that? He had spent an eternity ignoring you—the same man who took you to the altar and made vows. “My husband? Do you really have the right to call yourself that? You never treated me as a wife! This marriage is over!”
Anger twisted his face into a contorted mask of rage, his green eyes flashing with a volatile mix of fury and jealousy. His jaw clenched so tightly it seemed like it might shatter, and his nostrils flared as if struggling to contain a storm within. His brows drew together into a dark scowl, the muscles in his forehead bunching in a way that made his anger almost palpable. Every line in his face seemed to deepen with the intensity of his emotions, reflecting not just a burning anger but also a bitter, jealous hurt that cut deeper than any physical blow. The very air around him seemed to crackle with his overwhelming sense of fury and resentment.
“Did you truly love him?” he demanded, his voice cold and harsh. It felt like speaking to a wall; his rage was the only thing driving him now. His grip on your wrist tightened to the point of pain, and you could feel the bruising pressure already forming, “ Ow! Let go!” you cried out, struggling against his unyielding hold, “ You cannot escape me! Even in death you shall not leave! Even if this cursed manor collapsed around us!”
Straining to free yourself from his iron grip, you felt a deepening frustration with each desperate tug. “Why are you doing this to me?!” you demanded, your voice breaking with a mix of anger and hurt. “What did I ever do to you?!” The resentment in your voice was palpable, each word a testament to the pain and bewilderment of feeling so unjustly targeted. You managed to break free from his grasp, quickly gathering the sides of your dress in your hands as you hurried away. Glancing back over your shoulder, you shouted, “I refuse to stay here any longer! I can’t spend the rest of my life trapped here like a ghost!”
“You can’t keep me her—!” you yelled, but as you rushed down, your foot had slipped on the edge of the stairs. Instantly, the world tilted as you lost your balance. A cold dread filled your chest as time seemed to stretch, and you felt yourself falling. Each step hit with a jarring thud, and the sharp, unforgiving edges of the stairs seemed to blur together. Finally, you crashed onto the floor below with a heavy thump, pain radiating through your body. The force of the impact left you gasping for breath, your vision momentarily darkening as you lay sprawled, disoriented and bruised. The room seemed to spin around you as you tried to regain your senses, each breath coming in ragged gasps.
A warm trickle of blood began to flow underneath your sprawled hair, staining the floor beneath you. The room swam around you as you lay sprawled, the metallic scent of blood mingling with the sharp pain, and you struggled to catch your breath, the darkness closing in at the edges of your vision.
The last thing you saw, was your husband crying out in anguish. Sobbing uncontrollably, hands clutching his face, eyes wide and frantic as he called your name over and over.
A smile crept across your lips.
You suppose you can find some solace in that—if your life, given in exchange for freedom, caused even a single moment of despair for him. That’s enough to ease your soul.
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violetflowerswrites · 2 months
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Sweet Relief
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Pairing: Loki x Female Reader
Warnings: servant/master, possession, religious-ish themes, dom/sub, sex pollen, cockwarming, oral (female receiving), pain/discipline, fingering, p in v sex, language, 18+
Word Count: 5.0k
A/N: I’m rewatching the Marvel movies in order and my god. I forgot how absolutely diabolical and adorable young Loki is! I was inspired to make this VERY smutty, all-porn-no-plot fic. Takes place before the events of Thor 1. Hope you enjoy my first Loki fic!
Tags: @foxherder @lovingchoices14
The long linen fabric of your healer’s tunic brushed against the cold marble floor as you rushed past. Your steps were gentle and quick, trying to make next to no sound as you swept past the tall columns, and arched ceilings of the royal halls. Finally outside the gilded wood of the giant doors to his bed chambers, your breath seemed to stall in your lungs.
This simply was not done. You were approached, never doing the approaching yourself. Improper didn’t even begin to describe what you were doing.
Your gentle knock was virtually silent the first time, so you steeled yourself and tried again.
“Identify yourself.”
A lazy voice called from within, but his tone was laced with an undeniable authority.
You spoke your name, placed your title in front of it.
Healer.
You weren’t a lady, a warrior—hell, you weren’t even nobility.
You belonged to a class of healers in Asgardian society. Seen as a type of servant, but respected nonetheless. To serve in the court meant you had a sizable talent for basic magic, and for spiritual healing.
But, if you were a woman in this position, it also meant you were a glorified prostitute.
You and your healer sisters before you have served in the healing room for centuries, servicing warriors, tending to their injuries after battle. But Asgard has long been in a season of peace, so the healers needed to fill another role.
Asgard was now a land of paradise, a land of plenty. That is, plenty of food, drink, beauty, wealth, and of course, plenty of sex. The nobility needed a way to make this discreet. After all, the royal court could hardly be seen having frivolous dalliances with just anyone. They needed to marry for alliance, for power, and for proper bloodlines, of course.
That’s where the healers came in. Come to the healing room for a sleeping draught, or an ointment for a sore shoulder, and get a service on top of it. You and your sisters were carefully trained in the ways of pleasure, and secrecy.
But, here you were, in front of your Lord’s chambers, breaking every rule and propriety ingrained in you since you first worked in the court as a young girl.
“Enter.” He commanded.
With shaky hands, you pushed the heavy bedroom doors open with your slender muscles.
The sight was grand, and a bit unexpected. Thick, dark green drapes covered the walls from ceiling to floor, and deep cherry wood bookshelves lined an entire side of the bedroom. A fireplace and candles were lit, making the chambers seem warm, yet a tinge ominous. A sharp contrast to the golden pearly halls of the rest of Asgard’s royal chambers.
Loki sat at a massive wooden desk, cleaved from the center of an oak tree, and absolutely littered with a number of bottles and vials, books and scrolls. A lone curtain was left half open, letting in what little light was left of the setting summer sun.
He addressed you disinterestedly, not even bothering to lift his head up from his book.
“To what do I owe the pleasure, Healer?” Loki called out quietly across the vast room.
Your back was pressed up against the door, unable to get your feet to move. Your body disobeyed what your mind wanted, forgetting to curtsey or even duck your head. Instead, your mouth opened, but no words came out.
Loki took a beat in your silence and chuckled lowly to himself.
“I must say, this is quite unexpected, and against the rules I might add.”
Amusement glittered in his eyes at the mention of breaking the rules.
After all, he was the God of Mischief. Breaking the rules was his bread and butter.
Loki finally gazed up and took you in more carefully, wondering why a healer such as yourself would dare incur the wrath of your order by entering a nobleman’s chambers without permission, let alone the prince of Asgard.
Second prince of Asgard, but a prince nonetheless.
Then he noticed you, really noticed you.
He took in your flushed face, the way you absentmindedly kept rubbing your hands up and down your arms as you hugged yourself, and your thighs pressing your legs together to seek any sort of relief you could.
Even from across the room, Loki’s god-eyes could see the steady thrumming of the vein on your neck, moving rapidly with your heartbeat. He wanted to taste your skin and feel your pulse under his hot tongue.
Loki was a keen observer. Knowing how to read body language, facial expressions, and tone of voice was more important than any magical mischief he could get up to. Reading people was enough to get him most things that he wanted in life.
And right now, he decided he wanted you.
“You may approach, Healer.”
As if the spell had been broken, you swallowed to wet your dry throat and stepped towards the prince.
“How did you get past the guards?” Loki questioned.
“I said you needed a sleeping draught. You’ve been having trouble falling asleep for the past few days.” Your voice came out squeaky and feeble, a far cry from your usual tone.
Loki pursed his lips. This was not untrue.
“Leave it here.” He gestured casually to the desk and went back to his reading, while keeping half an eye on you.
Your trembling hands set down the small bottle of liquid with a bit of a clatter, and you quickly stepped back, just a few feet from where Loki sat.
“There’s something else.” Loki murmured lowly, eyes still flicking over the pages.
“Yes.” You breathed out.
Before you could begin to state your wild request, Loki said something else that you didn’t expect.
“I know you.”
You flitted your eyes up at his handsome face, and was startled by his piercing blue gaze. Quickly, you looked down at your feet.
The younger prince of Asgard had long since caught your eye. Every time he returned from battle you snatched the opportunity to treat him.
Rumor had it that he rarely asked for a healer's services, even when he was at the peak of adolescence. Some said he had a taste for the other sex. Others said he found his pleasure off-planet.
Whereas Thor openly indulged in excess, including women, drink, and violence, Loki was careful, calculated, and purposeful in all his actions. His mysterious, unreadable nature only served to make him more attractive to you.
“Yes, m’Lord. I have treated your injuries before, alongside other sisters.”
“You sang to me.”
You gasped, shocked that he remembered. It was a particularly gruesome battle and Loki was crushed badly in the side. You and your sisters forced him into a spell-induced sleep so that you could bind his broken bones. The Queen was distraught and ordered a round-the-clock watch to ensure he was healing well. You ended up on night watch, singing lullabies when he fought demons in his sleep.
“I did not know you heard me, m’ Lord.” You whispered, the heat inside of you coming out in waves off your hot skin.
“Speak freely. What is it that you request of me?” Loki schooled his tone to sound detached, but you could hear the curiosity in his words.
Sucking in a breath, you relayed a stuttered story of how a nobleman asked the healers to create a love potion that would increase ones libido, but it would only work against someone they were attracted to. Eventually, they would be like a dog in heat, and could only be relieved by intense pleasuring from a potential lover.
And you were the unlucky soul who got “volunteered” to take the experimental potion on a test run.
Although they tried their utmost, your sisters were unable to bring you relief and now, a few hours later, you sought after your long-time crush, Loki.
Hoping he’d do something to help relieve you of your suffering.
Although what, you didn’t dare dream of.
Ashamed, you bowed your head, looking at the marble floor and wishing a hole would open up and sink you into the dark waters below your realm.
At best, he’d let you go back to the healing room and never speak of this again. At worst, he’d have you arrested and banished for attempting such a lecherous act against a prince of Asgard.
“Sit.”
Your head jerked up, and you stared. Loki wasn’t looking at you though, he was back to his book, but his palm patted his muscular thigh.
Gods, was he asking you to sit in his lap?
You slowly brought a leg over his until your core straddled his hips. His cool body temperature immediately soothed your hot one, and you carefully brought your arms to clasp behind his neck.
Moving quickly before he changed his mind, you immediately put your training to use.
“Would my Lord like a massage?” You offered quietly.
“Yes, darling, that would be lovely.” Loki agreed nonchalantly, again, eyes still glued to his book.
Your strong fingers squeezed the tight knots on Loki’s shoulders, feeling the firm, yet lean muscles there. You pulled up his flesh, pressing deeply until the tension melted away in your hands.
Moving upwards, you combed your fingers through his jet-black hair, massaging his scalp, and temples.
The man gave no signs at all that he was affected by your touch, or by having an attractive young woman in his lap.
But then, he turned, exposing a pale neck underneath the raised leather collar of his garments. You took that as an invitation to press your lips to his smooth skin. Loki could feel your warm breath exhale in a contented sigh as your thumbs continued to knead circles, followed by soft kisses all over his neck, up his jaw, behind his ear.
Even with your face pressed to his, you almost missed what he whispered next.
“Warm my cock for me, dearest.”
An uncontrollable whimper escaped from your lips at his dirty words.
To be fully honest, you didn’t know how far Loki was going to let you take this. And the answer seemed to be…
All the way.
You pulled off your undergarments and undid the buttons of his leather trousers. His member was already half-erect, but it came to life fully as you gently rubbed him in both of your warm hands.
Your head fell onto his shoulder, and you could feel the breath catch in his chest as his cock breached your tight entrance.
Your eyes squeezed shut immediately at the contact, having not loosened your sensitive core beforehand, and Loki was large. His member wasn’t the thickest you’ve ever had, but it was slender, and long.
Slowly, carefully, you sank down, half-way at first, taking a pause to adjust, then further in until your ass rested on his lap once again.
The tip of his cock pushed up against your cervix, and you’ve never felt more full in your life.
Relaxing, you pressed your chest to his, leaning in as your core wrapped its hot, moist flesh around him. Loki for his part, was completely silent, reaching his arms behind your back to continue flipping through his book.
“What are you reading?” You murmur, content to just be filled for the time being. The initial stage of insatiable desire had been temporarily slaked by simply having his length inside of you.
“A spell-book on illusion magic. Could be useful for battle, or tricking my brother.” A soft chuckle rumbled through his body, the vibrations stimulating your center immediately.
You moaned, losing yourself in pleasure, but Loki shushed you gently.
“Be a good girl and sit quietly. I want to finish this section.”
So you did. After having spent the past few hours in heat, having any kind of relief now was enough to lull you into a daze. The only sounds in the room were the crackling of the fire, the crinkle of pages of Loki’s book, and your quiet breath.
Every so often, he would shift his weight and it would push his cock in a different part of your core. You bit your lip each time to keep from making any noise, but the wetness that leaked from your pussy betrayed your arousal. You were sure that Loki’s thighs would be soaked by the time he finished reading.
Abruptly, Loki snapped his book shut with a bang. You flinched automatically at the loud sound.
“That’s enough, my dear.” He stated with finality.
You gingerly pulled yourself off, his still-hard member slipping out of your core, leaving you feeling empty and wanting. Legs wobbly from sitting straddled wide for so long, you tried your best to look put together, smoothing down your tunic, and taking a tentative step back.
“My Lord, thank you for—“ you attempted a statement of propriety, assuming that you were being dismissed.
Wordlessly, Loki grabbed you roughly by the neck and hauled you forward, an arm pulling your hips against his as he crushed you with a kiss.
Your body melted into his immediately, overwhelmed by the pressure of his lips against yours, his tongue forcing his way into your mouth, and —gods was that teeth?—nipping at your lower lip. You had no idea that a kiss could be so utterly demanding and violent.
Loki wasn’t just kissing you.
He was devouring you.
“It’s time for some discipline, healer. Do you know what a bad girl you’ve been tonight?” Loki growled against your neck, biting you not quite so gently there.
“No, tell me m’ Lord.” The response breathed out through bruised lips. Your pupils were blown out with lust and so were his.
“No? Then, I’ll help you count each disobedience.”
With that, Loki pulled your tunic and shift off, leaving you completely exposed before him.
“Exquisite,” he murmured, while licking his lips.
Roughly, he wrenched your arm and pulled you towards his generous bed, throwing you down the middle of the lush mattress.
Before you had a chance to sit up, he flipped you onto your stomach and smacked a hard slap to your ass.
“Fuck!” The expletive exploded out of you at the sharp sting.
“Number one: deceiving the guards.”
Another slap hit your other ass cheek.
“Number two: sneaking into the royal chambers.”
His hand met your bottom again.
“Number three: sneaking into my bedroom, a prince of Asgard no less.”
Another hit. The skin of your ass was already inflamed pink with the first few smacks.
Loki watched the color bloom before slowly raking his icy-blue eyes across your body. A sheen of sweat had broken out along your back and your face was buried in the sheets.
Loki’s never hurt a girl in the bedroom before, but seeing the redness of your ass, and feeling the tingling remnants of each slap on his own hand. Well, that awoke something sinister in his heart, and his loins.
“Number four: you were a fool to take the love potion. You are supposed to be a healer, not a witch.”
This next blow from Loki was even stronger than the last. The contact with your tender skin echoed off the high ceiling of his bedroom.
“Hells—Loki you are going to leave a mark!” The pain had you gritting your teeth, and temporarily forgetting your manners.
Hearing his name roll off your tongue made him laugh with delight. Who knew he would have so much fun punishing a troublesome little girl like you?
He leaned forward, pressing his erection into the swell of your ass, and spoke lowly into your ear.
“My darling, when I’m done with you, your body will be marked permanently.”
The threat made you shut your mouth and turn your burning face away from his, speechless.
“Number five: you were a fool to seek out me for relief.”
The final hit was the most painful. Loki lifted both of his hands and brought them down with so much force that you let out a scream of shock, pain, and pleasure all at once.
He immediately squeezed your pliant flesh in his palms, massaging the slap-warmed skin there.
After a moment of silence, he released his touch altogether and sat back on the bed, watching you.
Cautiously, you crawled up on your hands and knees and sat up, using your arms to hold up your weight rather than sitting on your tender bottom.
He studied your face in quiet contemplation as he watched a mixture of emotions course through you.
Pain, of course.
A bit of fear.
Apprehension, understandably.
But as you drew in shaky breaths, staring back at him, he saw what he was hoping for.
Attraction. Lust. Arousal. Greed.
Even after all of that, you still wanted him. Hells, even without the potion coursing through your veins you would have still wanted to fuck him.
The dominant, torturous streak was a surprise, but you never knew what Loki was capable of, to begin with.
Everything was a surprise with him.
And yet, you craved so much more.
Suddenly gentle, Loki guided you backwards until your head hit his soft pillows.
He settled in between your legs, prying them apart until his face was inches away from your puffy inner lips.
“How did that feel, my dear?” He pressed kisses against your inner thighs, loving how smooth and soft your skin was.
“It hurt.” You ground out, indignance lacing your tone, trying not to show how anything Loki did to you felt good.
Better than good. He was better than any nobleman you’ve ever had to service before. Sex with them was vanilla, predictable. Loki was anything but.
“Ah, but you liked it. Didn’t you, sweet girl?” He paused and looked up at you with those baby blues.
Underneath his steady gaze, you knew there was no point in lying. Loki could see through you in a heartbeat.
“Yes. It felt good.” You confessed.
Tutting with that silver tongue of his, endearments and praise continued to pour out of that sly mouth.
And kisses. Hot, wet, soft kisses to every part of your inner thighs, your mound, your puffy pussy lips.
“You naughty girl. Entering my chambers, asking me to give you relief.”
He pressed his lips to you.
“Sitting on my cock, letting me fill up that tight cunt of yours.”
A regal nose brushed against your slit, dragging wetness up your core.
“Enjoying pain with your pleasure. Letting me ravage your body. You’re a temptress, my sweet.”
A deep inhale. Gods, Loki was breathing in your sex right in front of you. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, your nails digging into your palms.
“Did you know, darling, that I could smell you the second you entered my chambers?” He exhaled, warm air tickling the moisture leaking out of you.
You didn’t dare reply, knowing that all that could come out of you now would be whines of lust.
“You, my dear, are ripe.”
With that, Loki dove head first into your cunt, licking and sucking like you were his favorite dessert.
The potion made your pussy swollen and sensitive, so everything he did felt ten times more pleasurable than anything your sisters tried.
Your hands gripped his wide shoulders and your knees fell apart as he ate you out.
“Loki—my Lord, I, I can’t!” You stammered out, head falling back as you enjoyed his worship of your pussy.
“Cat got your tongue, dear?” Loki joked, before taking your clit in between his perfect teeth.
“Fuck!” You positively screamed, which only made Loki double down.
Finally, he let go and you slowly loosened your grip, not realizing that you had been knuckle deep in his beautiful hair, tugging it, tangling it in your fingers. You saw pink half moons littered on the pale skin of his neck and face, evidence of your nails digging into his flesh.
Taking a beat to breathe, you smoothed his locks down on his head.
“Did I hurt you?” You inquired, feeling ashamed that you had lost yourself so completely in your lust.
“Yes. But I liked it, dearest. You can hurt me as much as you want to. Just as long as I can do the same.”
The dirty confession made your heart stutter in your chest, eyes wide. Seeing your expression, Loki laughed aloud, the sound blessing your ears.
He crawled up your body now, straightening your legs.
“Let’s see how ready you are for me, hmm?” Loki inserted one finger, then another into your pussy.
“Gods! That feels—!” You whined.
“Good, isn't it?” Loki finished for you. “Now, what about…here?”
He curled his digits upwards and put delicious pressure onto your spongy inner center.
Waves of stimulation shot through your limbs as your voice cried out in broken moans.
“Your knees are trembling, sweet girl.” Loki observed with amusement.
Indeed they were, and they continued to shake uncontrollably as Loki clamped down even harder, his fingers thrusting now.
“I-I can’t help it!” You cried out again, as Loki kissed your breasts, his hot mouth finding purchase on an erect nipple.
Your hands gripped his wrist and he couldn’t tell if you were trying to pull his hand out, or push it in deeper.
Regardless, he ground his palm against your clit, scissoring his digits inside of you, stretching you.
Preparing you.
“Oh my—I’m gonna cum!” You screamed out. Loki had already made you cum a few times. First, when his cock filled you up as you were sitting on his lap. Second, when he bit down on your clit.
And now, with his skilled fingers, he was making your pussy spasm and weep under his touch.
The orgasm was powerful, your whole body jerking up against his. With his free hand, Loki held you down, enjoying the wild ride.
Finally, as you relaxed, Loki released you and sat back. His forehead dappled with sweat, and his own breath coming in hard.
You couldn’t believe that this was actually happening. Loki, your prince, was pleasuring, no—worshiping your body like it was his personal gift from Valhalla. He made you feel pleasure at heights you didn’t know existed. Somehow, he simply knew your body even though this was the first time he had ever touched you.
Lost in post-orgasm bliss, your eyes lazily traveled down to his still clothed erection, fighting to get out of his trousers. A thought crossed your mind.
“My Lord, can I undress you?” You murmured, locking eyes with him.
Loki didn’t reply, instead, he simply watched your naked body approach his clothed one as you slowly snaked your hands up his torso. You found each flap, each button, and slowly undid it all as his garments fell down in pieces on the bed.
You pulled his pants off his long legs, and his cock bounced up to greet you. With a gasp of joy, you pressed a soft kiss to his member and continued your kisses up the toned flesh of his chest until you got to his lips.
The action was intimate, like what lovers would do. And Loki let you touch him, admire him, without a word.
In the last bit of light of sunset, Loki’s skin glowed golden orange. He shone like the god he is.
“Beautiful.” You whispered in awe.
An arrogant smile curved along his face and he cradled a hand along the back of your head. He pressed a long, sensual kiss to your warm mouth.
“I’m going to fuck you now.” He murmured the dirty words against your smiling lips.
Stalking over you like a predator hunts its prey, Loki climbed over your prone body, lining up his engorged cock with your weeping slit.
He watched you watch him as he slid in, inch by inch, your eyes watering as he forced his way into your cunt.
A self-satisfied smirk emerged on his face, knowing just how full he could make you feel.
Gently, he lowered his weight on top of you, pressing down so that his toned flesh covered your supple breasts and soft curves.
As he started to slowly thrust in and out of your tight core, Loki found both of your hands and brought them next to your head, interlacing his fingers with yours. Your palms were hot and sweaty, overwhelmed with the intimacy of his actions.
Summoning all the boldness you had inside of you, you dared your gaze to meet his and he was staring back at you with a mixture of lust and affection.
And also, possession.
Fuck.
What have you gotten yourself into?
Without warning, he pushed faster, his hips smacking into yours with a vengeance. You instinctively brought your knees up to allow him deeper access. The wet slap of his cock into your pussy was sinfully loud in the cavernous bedroom.
All manner of helpless yelps and whines came out of your throat, your hands squeezed his as he fucked you raw.
“You need to be fucked, hard and often, healer.” The way he said your title could have been synonymous with whore.
The intensity of his look was almost too much, daring you to look away, but you found that you couldn’t. You were entirely addicted to this man, stronger than any drug you could have created in the healing room.
By Odin, he was the only one for you.
You pressed your forehead to his as he continued to slam his cock deep inside of your womb.
“I’m yours, my Lord.” The words tumbled out of you before you could stop them.
“Loki.” An unreadable expression crossed his face as Loki pushed himself up. He pulled your legs to wrap around his hips as he knelt on the bed. Your pussy was still clenched around his cock and you took the opportunity to suck in a few deep breaths.
“Wha-what?” You panted, confusion furrowing your brow.
“Say my name. Say that you belong to me.” Loki commanded. He rose up, pulling his shoulders back, looking every bit like the prince, the god that he is. His dark hair was pushed back on his forehead, sleek with sweat, framing his sharp features like a crown.
Automatically obedient, the declaration left your lips with sincerity and conviction.
“I belong to you, Loki.”
With a laugh of triumph, Loki grabbed the pliant flesh of your hips and slammed your body against his own. He railed your core with his cock, hitting deeper than you ever thought possible. Your ass slid along his strong thighs, the friction smarting your skin that was still tender from his earlier disciplining.
“Loki—it’s too much!” You cried out, losing yourself in pleasure.
“Cum for me, my sweet girl. Worship me with your cunt!” Loki growled out, thrusting impossibly harder, impossibly faster.
The sensation built and built, his name spilled out of your mouth in an endless stream of moans, until suddenly the pleasure peaked.
In that instance, time stopped. Your lips parted in a silent scream, and you saw him.
Veins bulged in his forearm as he pulled you flush against his hips. Nose scrunched up in effort as he fucked you deeply. His eyes, those beautiful blue eyes, wild in the throes of ecstasy.
Loki was your god.
And he was glorious.
Finally the air in your lungs released in a long-awaited scream and the orgasm crashed down. Nerve endings lit on fire, and your muscles jerked and spasmed underneath his strong grip. In the midst of your pleasure, you heard a faraway groan from your prince, and you could feel jets of hot cum coat the inside of your womb. He was marking you, claiming you as his.
You knew you would be his forever.
A few seconds later, Loki unceremoniously pulled out of your well-used pussy, and collapsed beside you, chest heaving with exertion.
Lying with one arm underneath his head, he lazily stroked your back as you curled up on his naked chest. Finally, the effect from the love potion had dissipated, leaving you with sweet relief.
Minutes passed in comfortable silence, but your mind started to swirl with insecure thoughts. You steeled your nerves to ask a question that had been nagging at the back of your mind.
“Why did you never use me?”
“What do you mean, my dear?”
“Why did you never take a lover? Or ask for a healer’s services? I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors, that you’re—“ Your mouth shut with an audible clack of your teeth.
Your clumsy tongue always got ahead of yourself. Worried you may have crossed a line, your cheeks burned with embarrassment.
But Loki answered honestly.
“You’re not my first. But I have long since known that I can’t fuck and forget like my ape of a brother.” He grimaces, and breathes in deeply before saying more.
“When I have sex, I need to own them. Possess them. I'm sure you noticed my dominant streak, my darling.”
“Then why’d you let me come in tonight? Why take the risk?” You wondered aloud.
“I’ve been watching you, my sweet little healer.”
You tensed automatically in surprise. Since when? What did he see? Why did he notice you?
Loki’s gentle voice brought you out of your thoughts as he confessed more.
“If you hadn’t approached me tonight, I would have snatched you from the healing room and made you mine before long.” He chuckled, the sound vibrating deep within his chest as you lay on his skin.
The revelation sank in slowly until finally, Loki pulled you up until your face was level with his.
“You just beat me to it, you naughty girl.” He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, and your furrowed brow automatically relaxed.
“Tell me again. Will you belong to me, and only me?” He searched your eyes for any hint of deception, any trace of a lie.
You were certain that he would find none.
“Yes, Loki. I belong to you.”
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1980shorrorfilm · 15 days
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every road i know
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click here. resources for palestine, congo, sudan, and other countries.
pairing…ellie williams x gn!reader
in which…ellie thought it was time to solidify your relationship. she might have been wrong.
before you read…inspired by the strangers, minus the killing n stuff. modern day fic. angst with comfort <3
the autumn night is silent, save for the occasional creak of the old miller’s cabin settling into its nighttime routine. you listen to the wind whistling outside, through the tall pines surrounding the small wooden home. 
it’s a lonely town, the nearest house a few miles down the road, something vastly different from your shared apartment in the city. 
ellie started bringing you here after joel had let it collect endless dust and cobwebs, the woman cleaning it all up for you. whenever life got too busy, chaotic, or hard, this way your getaway. peace. just you and her and the nature that surrounded you.
now, it feels as though it’s purgatory. 
the fireplace flickers softly, its glow dancing on the wooden walls, but the warmth couldn’t seem to comfort you. not right now. ellie sits in front of the flames, her silhouette outlined by the orange gentle light.
she has yet to utter a single word to you. the car ride here was silent. even the radio on mute, because ellie couldn’t find the simple strength to turn it up.
the moment is replaying in her mind, over and over, the sad smile you had given her burned into her memory. the thing she’s had anxiety about for the past month. proposing, to you.
the dark velvet box holding the special ring, now lying on the coffee table beside her. a stark reminder of the event.
you’re sat on the couch, chewing your lip, a rose petal in your hand. it’s soft, you find yourself stroking the smooth flower. they cover, nearly, the whole cabin. ellie had thrown the petals around before you had arrived together, trying to make it appear as romantic as possible. 
it’s not her strong suit, her appreciation toward you shown in much different ways than typical lovey-dovey things you see on television, but tonight it felt right. long candles garnish whatever surface she could put them on, yellow and smelling like vanilla. they’re not lit. 
she assumed she’d spark them when you came back from the long day you had. one that started with your favorite breakfast, ellie waking up extra early to make it as perfect as she could. and she did, you made sure to compliment her repeatedly.
then she took you downtown, viewing places you rarely visited, spending more time admiring you than the other pretty views. what occupied most of your time, was going to a museum she took you to on your first date, reminiscing on how awkward you two were compared to now.
she swears that’s her favorite place, and not just because she’s a nerd, because she now associates it with you. 
ellie had took you out to dinner, to your favorite restaurant, hardly eating and claiming she just wasn’t hungry. that was a lie, she just didn’t think she could keep food down. her nerves were washing over her, multiplying when you had finished, and you took a walk near the river, beneath the red trees that blew softly above you.
you had felt her pause in place, holding her warm hand, and you thought maybe the tie had come undone on her sneakers. she had washed them the day prior until her fingers pruned, you found it odd for ellie but didn’t say anything. but that wasn’t the problem. she stared at you like she saw a ghost, and it worried you.
you almost thought this was the end, she was about to tell you those four dreaded words. we need to break up. oh, the idea terrorizes you. that, however, also wasn’t it.
she had whispered inaudible words to herself, then mumbling ‘okay, okay, okay.’
you thought the woman was breaking before you, concern in your eyes, holding her hand tight. then she gulped, trying to get out the rehearsed words that seemed to vanish the longer she stood in your presence. 
how much you mean to her. from the very moment you two got paired up for a project that she insisted she’d do all the work for, but you fought back, finding yourself in her bedroom the entire week, the girl studying you more than the work laid out before her.
she found herself by your side all the time afterward.
she needed to be by your side. 
she doesn’t know how she lived before you, and if she could live without you— no, insisting she could not live with you. she simply wouldn’t have the will. waking up to a bed you didn’t occupy, not hearing your genuine laughter to her most idiotic jokes, not being able to hold you when you experienced the hardest day of your life.
she couldn’t have that. she needs this…you and her, to last forever. so, she asked those four words that you weren’t prepared for. will you marry me?
to which, you didn’t say yes.
you couldn’t. you love ellie, more than you could ever put into words, you swear on your life that you do, and it didn’t at all reflect your feelings for her. you were just…paralyzed. by fear, uncertainty, and the weight of expectations that you couldn’t hold up to for her. every single insecurity, hitting you at once, in the worst moment it possibly could.
you had said her name in a weak whisper, and ellie gulped, realizing what was happening. a tear slipped from your eye, that she quickly wiped away, reassuring you it was okay. that you’re okay. putting you before her, a habit of hers. bits of her broken heart being blown away in the cool wind that hits you, while she cradles yours. 
you walked to the car together in silence, a suffocating fog. a silence that seemed to last forever.
the tension between you two is almost palpable, both of your minds are currently a whirlwind of heavy emotions. a gentle crackle of the fire and ellie shifting in place, makes you finally turn your attention to her. “ellie,” you say her name softly, voice strained as you finally break the unbearable quiet. “can we talk?”
her gaze remains on the fiery flames, her shoulders tense. “we don’t have to,” she replies quietly, “i get it.”
“i don’t think you do,” you lowly say, heart aching at the mere thought of all the negativity running through her precious head, doubts about herself and your relationship. that’s the last thing you could ever want.
ellie swallows thickly, “it doesn’t matter.”
you watch her get up, turning her back to you as she leaves the room. your eyes trail her to the kitchen before you follow her. she doesn’t glance at you as you lean against the nearby counter, watching her grab an expensive champagne bottle. 
you assume she bought it just for tonight, she wouldn’t drink it any other time. she won’t even touch a glass of wine. she pops it open, pouring it into one of the two glasses beside it. “i don’t…” you begin to say as she hovers over the other glass, ellie nodding in response. you’re afraid if you drink it you’ll throw up all the nerves inside your system. 
“i got your favorite ice cream…if you want that instead,” ellie mentions, tapping her finger on the glass, “went to like…3 different stores. couldn’t find the brand you like.”
she ends the sentence with an attempt at a laugh, finding it so silly now. all the effort, for what? humiliation? pity? she sips on the disgusting drink like it would make her feel better. the only other thing that helps her in trying times, is you; and that’s not exactly possible in this scenario.
“do you…” she pauses, staring at the liquid as she swirls it around, “do you want this…us?”
“of course i do,” you answer her without hesitation, taking a step closer to her, but still out of reach. “it’s not that, ellie,” you tell her, trying to figure out how to inform her it’s you and not her, without sounding like a poor cliche overused excuse. 
“it’s just…we’re young…im scared you’re making a mistake,” your voice wavers near the end, ashamed to admit such a thing, that you are her mistake. ellie looks at you like you just spit in her face. she doesn’t know how to interpret the comment, she slightly feels insulted that you would think that she’s making a ‘mistake.’ 
this isn’t putting a shirt on inside out. this isn’t forgetting to turn the light off when you leave a room. it’s not tripping over your step. it’s her committing herself to you, after five beautiful years attached to you, something she wants hundreds more years of, if that were possible. nothing about that is a mistake.
you’re the love of her life. cementing that is not a fucking mistake. 
“is that how you feel?” she flips the script, putting the spotlight on you, feeling like you’re burning beneath it at the accusation. “what?” you whisper, “n-no…no ellie.”
you can’t read her expression, she’s swallowing the rest of her drink, blankly staring ahead. 
she ignores your response, “i’ll drive us home in the morning. you should get some sleep.”
she turns away, placing her glass carefully in the sink, resting there for a moment. your eyes are boring into the back of her head as if you could read the thoughts inside it. so many bad thoughts. 
you push yourself forward, taking a few quiet steps to her. you plant your feet behind her, wrapping your arms around her body. her breathing is slow, her figure painfully stiff, hugging a tree and not your person. so solid despite the endless embraces where she would melt into you.
you murmur her name, holding her tighter. 
ellie can’t resist you.
her hands reach for yours, resting against the center of her torso. her fingers brush against you softly, her breath hitching slightly, before letting out a sigh she’s held in for hours. 
just for this moment, the tension settles beneath the old floorboards of the cabin, giving you air to breathe instead of holding in. your hug is so tender, ellie could be lured to sleep by it. and her body is so warm, you’d rather die than pull away.
you wish it could last forever, and the hours prior could be forgotten. 
then her phone rings from her back pocket, vibrating against you, and she shifts. you let go, biting your lip, watching her fish the device out. joel. assumingly calling to congratulate her. ellie wishes she never told him, because fuck, this is going to be awkward. 
“i uh…should take this,” she whispers, not sparing you a glance when she walks away. you hear the front door open, then shut. you can’t help but walk back into the living room, standing before the window and peeking at ellie, who sat on the porch steps. 
you can’t see her face, her head down, a glow from a cigarette, and grey smoke surrounding her figure. it’s clearly not a happy conversation, there was no sugarcoating what had happened. it pains you. 
you turn back around, following the rose petals that scattered the floor, all the way down the hall, and stopping at the bathroom. you open the door, turning the light on, eyes falling on the several small candles on the edges of the bathtub. red, grey, and purple, they decorated the space. 
ellie really tried to make tonight special.
you stand idly, taking a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, staring at yourself with shame. a dog with its tail tucked between its legs, knowing it did something so drastic, that the only person they love, finds it hard to look at them. 
you quickly turn away. 
you run the bath and wait, tugging your top and pants off, kicking them to the side. you strip naked when it fills up completely, steam radiating from the water. you step in, adjusting to the high temperature, before sinking into it. it almost burns you, but not in a way that you mind. you just don’t care right now. 
ellie is the only thing on your mind. you wonder if she’s talking about you, openly questioning where your relationship lies, if she thinks it’s even going to last after today. 
before you know it, a single tear is falling down your face.
you hug your knees, turning your head and laying your cheek against them. you stare out the open bathroom door, to the wood paneled wall, a framed photo of a deer hung on it.
you forget to blink, spacing out, not noticing the creaking of the front door or the floor. not until ellie is within your view, pausing in the doorway, looking down at you. you’re crying to yourself.
her expression softens, not saying anything when she joins you, kneeling beside the bathtub and touching your face. her thumbs wipe the salty tears from beneath your eyes, but they don’t stop. 
“i’m scared, ellie,” you say just above a whisper, ellie only hears you because of how quiet the cabin is. besides the repetitive dripping from the sink. “i’m gonna fail you…” you continue, your voice now giving up on you, “scared’m gonna ruin this…ruin us…you’re so good, ellie— i just —i couldn’t say yes.”
you choke into a sob, her green eyes now glistening with unshed tears. “oh baby,” she says so softly, giving you the time to process your emotions, to let the tears fall while she holds you. 
“i can’t…” she stops, gulping and sighing, “i can’t change what you think…but i can promise you that nothing could ever change my mind about you.”
her grip on you is firm, reaffirming, as she continues to speak, “we can wait…i’m willing to wait forever for you. i will show you no matter what happens, i will still love you— i will always love you. i just needed…need you to know that.”
very faintly, your lips twitch upwards slightly, ellie mirroring you the moment she notices. “you’re enough for me,” she says, “just you. that’s all i want.”
ellie is, unfortunately, right; it doesn’t change the tainted mindset you have. that, however, has nothing to do with her. you don’t doubt the things she tells you, you’ve never felt more love from someone in your whole life, and you know for a fact that you never will.
and that’s why it brings you relief, to listen to her, understanding her point of view rather than your own, and the cruel demon on your shoulder whispering harsh words into your ear. 
ellie williams is the angel. 
it’s not the first time she’s eased the anxiety taunting you, and it will not be the last. she will always be there, rain or shine, you pushing her away or letting her in. she truly means what she says. you’re enough for her. and soon, you will accept that for yourself.
“i really want to hug you right now.”
ellie chuckles, a lightness in the air as she gets up, grabbing a beige towel. you stand, letting her wrap it around you, shivering at the coolness in the air. not caring about the water droplets still coating your body, ellie’s arms are quickly around you, her palm on the back of your head, cradling it gently.
you instantly feel warm again, at peace.
after the moment of serenity ends, ellie is leading you to the bedroom. she grabs your pajamas from your still-packed bag, letting you put them on while she does the same. your eyes fall on her pale back, watching her throw a white tee on, looking away when she turns her head at you. 
“was thinking about leaving at 8…wanna beat the traffic,” she says, hoping the statement doesn’t go back to making things awkward. just in case, she adds, “can stop at that pancake place you love.”
you can’t ignore the glum undertones of the suggestion, but you still give her a smile, barely modding your head.
you sit in bed, ellie exiting the room to turn off every light in the lonely cabin, leaving you with your thoughts. you hate it. thinking about how happy the two of you were coming here, compared to you leaving. you don’t even want to leave. you want to shut out the rest of the world, but more importantly, your mind.
how differently things would be right now, if you could just do that.
your eyes meet hers when she enters the room again, and you debate what you’re about to ask her. you can’t help it. “can i see it?”
“hm?” “the ring.”
ellie looks at you, freezing for a moment, stuttering, “y-yea…sure.”
again, she exits the room, grabbing the velvet small box on the table, the one she avoided even sparing a glance at just a minute ago. then she jogs back, scratching the back of her neck. she’s nervous as she approaches you, placing it in your open hands, like it’s a baby. 
it’s the first time you’re getting a decent look at it, having been unable to observe it during the moment, and it’s beautiful. it’s simple, yet the green sapphire is so elegant, resembling the way ellie’s eyes look beneath the sun. you smile at it. 
“i…can’t return it…if that’s what you’re wondering.”
“i’m not,” you tell her, “it’s gorgeous, ellie.”
you don’t want to give it back to her. it feels…so right, in your possession, that you can’t help but nervously slide it down your finger. there’s a bittersweet smile on your face at how perfect it is. how when you look at it, ellie is the first thing to come to your mind. 
your lover, for eternity. your lover that swears to you, that your need for her is as mutual as her need for you, no matter the circumstances, it is permanent. that your worries are just that. worries— self-doubt, and bitter thoughts about yourself, that are only present in the moment. they won't last forever. not like you and her.
with hesitance, you take it off, avoiding her gaze when you give it back to her. “i’ll be ready,” you promise, your finger oddly feeling so lonely despite only wearing it for a minute. “i will…i will be,” you find yourself mumbling, ellie getting closer and grabbing your hands.
“hey, i meant what i said,” her thumbs stroke your skin, reminding you once more, “i can wait forever for you.”
and she means it.
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bloddysnow · 2 months
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Summary: You are an emperor, and you have your own harem consisting of four consorts.
Pairings: Sub! Bottom! Zayne/Sylus/Rafayel/Xavier x Dom! Top! Gn! Reader
nsfw minors dni
They have different features and characters, each of which is a unique combination of beauty, strength and charm.
The first consort, Zayne was a skillful healer, known for his wisdom and insight. He was not only handsome, but also smart. His knowledge of herbs and medicines helped to keep you in good health, helping to stay full of strength and energy. He often gave you valuable advice in governing the state. He had a refined taste and exquisite grace. His outfits have always been made with elegance.
The second consort, Rafayel, has a passionate temperament and burning beauty. Something about him always makes him the center of attention in any room. He chooses the most precious fabrics and jewelry to emphasize his beauty. Rafayel spends his days perfecting the art of dance, demonstrating flexibility and ability to control his body. He was not only a talented dancer, but also a skillful musician. In the evenings, he plays the lyre, hoping to attract you with melodic sounds and his angelic voice. His talent was known far beyond the palace.
The third consort, Sylus is famous for his wisdom and deep knowledge of poetry and philosophy. Passion and temptation permeates his every movement and every word. His eyes burn with the fire of thirst, giving mystery. He is also a master of martial arts. His grace and dexterity delighted everyone who saw his training. He often quotes poems and philosophical thoughts, hoping to win your heart through mind and soul.
The fourth consort, Xavier is known for his innocence and sincerity. He wears light and bright outfits that emphasize his young beauty. Its beauty is emphasized by simplicity and naturalness. He likes to walk in the garden and pick flowers. He wants to attract you with his purity and innocence. His room is filled with the scents of fresh flowers and the soft light of candles since he every evening hopes that you’ll want to visit him.
They dress up in frank clothes that barely cover their bodies to better demonstrate the traces of your caresses - dark spots and red marks from love bites that cover their delicate skin with a marble pattern. Every sign you leave is considered a pride, and they do not hide them under their makeup, but show them out.
At public meetings, banquets, parties and most social events, your consorts properly stand right behind your back and will always accompany you. Their presence behind your back symbolized the unity and strength of the imperial family. They’ll hide their faces under face veil, leaving only their eyes open. Since childhood, they have been taught that their bodies belong only to the emperor, and this knowledge is deeply rooted in their minds. Because of this, they cannot get physical pleasure on their own, knowing that their purpose is to serve only you.
As an emperor, you are aware of the importance of fair and respectful treatment of your consorts. And you try to pay equal attention to them all, making sure that each of them feels loved and valuable.
Evenings in the garden with Xavier have become an oasis of calm and happiness for you. The garden has an atmosphere of peace and harmony created by the rustle of foliage, the singing of birds and the quiet murmur of the fountain. Xavier brings the book he chose in advance and sits on the soft grass under the shade of an old oak leaning against it. You settle down next to him, putting your head on his lap. His hands begin to gently stroke your hair. He opens the book and starts reading aloud. His voice, soft and expressive, fills the space around you. Closing your eyes, you enjoy every minute spent with him.
Sylus often asks you to practice with him. One of your rules was the following: if he wins, you will fulfill any of his wishes. He attacks quickly and deftly, trying to find vulnerabilities. You, in turn, fight back, always trying to keep a balance between defense and attack. However, despite his aspiration and skills, he has never managed to defeat you. You are always one step ahead. You know that the real goal of these trainings is not victory, but time spent together. And this ends with Sylus breathing heavily with his hands around your neck, feeling the warmth of your body. Your hands wrap around his waist, pulling him closer. His lips are warm, persistent, conveying all the passion that he may have been holding back for a long time.
Rafayel, dressed in light silk clothes, slowly goes to the center of the hall, illuminated by the soft light of candles. The sounds of darbuka and qanun begin to fill the space. Smooth waves run through his body, starting from his hips and rising up his spine. He skillfully uses his shoulders. His hands gently twist, repeating the curves of the melody, and his fingers touch the invisible strings, adding a touch of magic to the dance. His hips make graceful movements, synchronously swaying in the rhythm of melody. His body is the true perfection of beauty. Each muscle contraction, each movement emphasizes the ideal lines of his figure. The light of candles plays on his skin, creating a game of shadows and emphasizing every muscle. When he looks at you, it seems that time stops. His eyes are full of depth and passion, you can drown in them, forgetting about everything in the world. It's like they bewitched you, and you can't take your eyes off him. They reflect the whole world, full of mysteries and secrets that he is ready to share only with you.
In the majestic imperial palace, immersed in luxury and splendor, your life was surrounded by Zayne's care and attention. Not trusting the servants, Zayne personally followed every aspect of your daily life. It was his personal privilege and duty that he was proud of. Taking care of the emperor gave him some pleasure. He chooses your outfit for the day, also takes care of your hairstyle, skillfully styling your hair and giving it a neat look. He makes sure that consorts didn't bother you and asks you every night if you wanted to visit someone's quarters. Zayne takes care of his emperor with awe and love, trying to protect you from all possible troubles and worries. As a sign of gratitude for his tireless care and devotion, you often took his hands in your own and gratefully kiss them. Zayne was always embarrassed at these moments, looking away.
Their hearts are pounding in anticipation of your next choice, and each of them is eager to be in emperor’s quarters again. When they find themselves in your bed, their moans and screams become loud and passionate, breaking the silence of the night. It's not only an expression of their pleasure, but also a way to show others your closeness to them. They cry, clutching your cock buried deep inside them, and whisper through tears: "I'm y-your favorite, right?" Their voices tremble with emotions, and their hearts beat in the hope of confirming their uniqueness and love.
Their bellies become swollen from the amount of sperm inside their wombs. When you gently press on their stomach, white sperm flows out of their hole, and they whine, asking you not to waste it. Each of them dreams of giving birth to the first heir, who will strengthen his position in the harem and give him power and respect.
Masterlist
787 notes · View notes
pomefioredove · 3 months
Note
HII i saw your event! reading the prompts list gave me too many ideas to send but OKAY maybe you can pick whichever stands out to you the most:
"you're a bad idea, but i like bad ideas" with jamil
or any of the following lines with vil:
"your lips would look so much better on mine" / "smiling is the second best thing you can do with your lips" (sorry you've written so many vil requests already but i just CANNOT get enough of this man)
TYSM in advance!
since we have another jamil fic coming soon, I will do another vil. for the vil fans
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summary: "smiling is the second best thing you can do with your lips." type of post: short fic characters: vil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, established relationship, fluffy, vil being a teeny bit protective
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"You should smile more; it looks good on you,"
The first year's comment sits in the back of your mind all day.
It had started off as an innocent group photo with your class, and ended with a Octavinelle student you hadn't really spoken to dropping that and walking off.
You assumed it was supposed to be a compliment, but something about it didn't sit well with you.
"Do you think I don't smile enough?" you ask, carefully studying your reflection in the vanity.
The dark room is lit by various sweet-smelling candles, warm light sending flickering shadows across your face.
"Hm?" Vil hums, putting out the match he'd been meticulously lighting each with.
The scene is perfectly romantic. Your boyfriend doesn't often get whole nights off, but he takes full advantage of the ones he does.
"Of course you smile enough," he says, his eyes turning to you. "...Why?"
"No reason," you lie, though you know it's useless. He can read you like the back of his hand by now.
Vil walks over to the vanity and pulls you to your feet. "You're a terrible liar," he brings you to the bed and pats the spot next to him for you to sit. "Now..."
"Tell me what's wrong, hm? I won't be able enjoy myself if I know something is bothering you."
Ugh. You can't tell if you hate or love how he can see right through you.
"It's nothing. I'm over it, anyway,"
He raises an eyebrow, almost amused by your deflection. "So someone said something, hm? About your smile?"
You're not getting out of this one any time soon. You sigh.
"Nothing... bad, per se. Someone just... tastefully implied I don't smile as much as they think I should,"
Somehow, that seems to bother him. His smile drops, and he goes quiet for a few seconds too long.
"And why is it any of their concern?" Vil asks.
"...Tsk. You would assume the other housewardens would teach their students some manners..."
You observe his expression carefully, watching it go from nonchalance to unease, to annoyance, and then back to neutral with a little sigh.
"...And they upset you?"
"Not really. I was just a little self conscious about it,"
"Don't be," Vil says, cupping your face in his hands. "You don't owe them any of your attention. Besides..."
A faint smirk graces his lips, and he draws you a little closer.
"Smiling is the second best thing you can do with your lips,"
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sttoru · 1 year
Note
just saw ur fic ideas post .......... how bout semi public stuff with gojo @ some high end jujutsu event and he just is SOOOO enamoured with how you look and takes you to the bathroom and ..... 😙
GOT A FETISH FOR YOUR LOVE !
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ෆ note. sobs dies ressurects… im so weak… i had to write a full on fic… everyone thank T for this cuz i went crazy on this one and it’s super detailed for no reason. this post contains smut, proceed at own risk !
ෆ tags. (perv)dom!satoru x female reader. semi public, p in v — unprotected, bits of manhandling, corruption kink, breast play, premature ejaculation, cervix fucking, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, teasing, cum play, creampies, spanking, pussy slapping, mentions of masturbation, perv panty stealer satoru, implied cunnilingus, fucked against a wall, lots of dirty talk, satoru calls you ‘slutty’ once, satoru with the famous ‘just the tip’ beg, satoru sometimes turns whiny and subby so you get the best of both worlds (hes pathetic), he has a big dick ehem, pussy drunk satoru.
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satoru couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw you climb up the stairs near the torii gates of the high school he teaches at; your appearance only increasing in beauty due to the candle lights placed all around the environment.
your face and body were glistening under the moon light as you made your way up. you were silently cursing yourself for wearing heels while knowing that jujutsu tech was situated on top of a literal mountain.
unbeknownst to you, your boyfriend had been waiting your arrival near the entrance since the first guests started pouring in.
with a sigh, you finally lift your head up as you notice the entrance to the main building come into view. there were lots of known sorcerers gathered around, chitchatting about recent business and changes in the jujutsu society.
you were too enamoured by the elegant decorations that hung around the school and the people who were dressed accordingly to the theme to even notice the white-haired man walking up to you.
which was unusual, since satoru’s tall physique could be easily spotted in any crowd.
“baby, you should’ve told me you had arrived!” satoru exclaims almost embarrassingly loud, waving at you without a care in the world of all the other guests that were giving him stares. his gaze was only on you, “i would’ve come picked you up.”
you wave back at him, eyes lingering on the tailored dark blue suit he was wearing, the waistcoat and dress shirt underneath being undeniably attractive. a bonus being that he was wearing his glasses and not his blindfold.
“it’s okay, love.” you reassure satoru as you walk a few steps towards him as well.
“ya sure? you didn’t hurt yourself or anything, right?” satoru pouts, immediately wrapping his arms around your waist and hugging you tight, “my poor, poor girl.”
you roll your eyes at satoru’s antics. his one and only desire in life is to give you the princess treatment you deserve and it shows at moments like these.
“it’s fine,” you murmur, voice muffled as you bury your face into the crook of his neck; getting drowned in his familiar scent, “you look handsome by the way.”
satoru chuckles, feeling a bit giddy on the inside from your compliment. he almost responded with a ‘i know i do’, yet he held himself back. today was an exception and he decided to save you from any more cheeky remarks.
“thank you, pretty.” satoru hums, “you look ethereal.”
you could feel the way your boyfriend hugged you even tighter after his comment, pressing your body against his. you normally wouldn’t mind it in the slightest, however you could notice a few people glancing over at you two.
satoru couldn’t give a single damn about it; the only thing his senses were hyper focused on were your breasts that were squished against his chest—the curves of your body being easily accessible to the sorcerer.
“god..” his breath was shaky a little. satoru was really trying hard to repress his urges, the event hadn’t even started yet and even so, he was way too lost in his perverted thoughts.
he couldn’t help himself. you were just too addictive; your perfume, your warmth, your body, your face, your glossy lips… your breasts, your ass—
satoru clears his throat and pulls back after a bit, “shall we, m’lady?”
he bowed a little to you, putting his hand out for you to hold on while a subtle smirk played on his lips.
with a giggle, you grab onto his hand and satoru wastes no time interlocking your fingers as he guides you to the entrance of the main hall.
the building was scattered with even more sorcerers from all kinds of clans; some admiring the scenery, some sitting and eating various delicacies.
like before, you were too caught up in the scale of the event to realise that satoru was ogling you. it was a great thing that his pitch black lenses were blocking most of his eyes from the outside;
his gaze lingered on your side profile, your lips that were slightly parted in amazement, your hips which swayed from side to side with each step and your ass which he tried not to grope in public.
satoru hadn’t even noticed that he started to ball his hands into fists out of pure self control. his hand that was holding onto yours tightening its grip as well.
“something wrong?” you ask your boyfriend once you noticed, tilting your head to look up at him.
“nothin’, baby.” satoru lies and flashes you a reassuring smile, “c’mon. let’s enjoy some food.”
without waiting on your answer, satoru guides you towards a free cocktail table and stands near it, serving you an appetiser that was set on the table cloth.
you gladly accepted it and took a small bite, looking around the place some more and taking in the details, “it’s really pretty. the decor and stuff.”
satoru hums in agreement even though he hadn’t taken a single proper look at the environment when you were the main event in his eyes, “yeah. i think so too.”
everything about you somehow drove him crazy today. on most normal days, he could wait until you were at home to show you how much he adores you. that was not the case at the moment since he was fighting with his own self on the inside.
he was absolutely whipped for your elegant look.
“very pretty.” satoru mumbles under his breath. he most definitely wasn’t talking about the interior or exterior of the place.
it was getting harder by the minute to not give in to his primal needs. the more you talked to him, flashed him your innocent smile and let him hear your voice, the more he was struggling to keep his (now hard) dick in his pants.
you continued rambling about something that you noticed around you and satoru took the chance to place his hand on your hip, pulling you closer. it wasn’t anything unusual, thus you kept on talking.
it started off by him rubbing the area around your hips to his fingers subtly sliding downwards, eventually reaching the hem of your dress. his index finger dipped under the fabric, caressing your upper thigh. that small skin to skin action made satoru’s breath hitch and his cock twitch in its restraints.
“fuck.”
“what was that?” you abruptly stop yourself as you heard your lover curse under his breath. you weren’t aware of all the lewd thoughts going on in satoru’s mind and that made it even better. your innocent confusion wasn’t going to last long, however.
satoru lowered his head a bit until his lips were right next to your ear. the warmth of his breath made you shiver.
“i said,” he starts off in a low tone; one which he knows would make you weak for him, “i want you.”
it was as if time froze for you for a split second. you knew what satoru meant with that. you could’ve easily guessed the hidden meaning behind those three words just by his tone. the light but daring touches on your legs were your second hint.
“love, we’re in public.” you whisper back. satoru has a reputation to uphold as the strongest sorcerer in this entire building, yet there he was; implying that he wanted to take you right there and now.
a sigh left satoru’s lips, the air hitting your ear once again, “please, baby? for me?”
satoru was running out of patience. he could act out in the midst of the hall and disregard his image for all he cares. he just needed you. badly.
“promise i’ll be quick, yeah?” he adds, tone pleading but also a tad dominant.
you gulp and wanted to give in. you stood no chance to your whiny boyfriend, who always knew the right buttons to push to get you to comply to his requests.
satoru saw the hesitation in your eyes and he decided to plead more, “just the tip. i promise, sweets—tha’s all i need.”
a intrusive mental image of satoru fucking your brains out made him grip your thigh a bit harder; his voice suddenly growing deep and dominant, his expression filled with only lust.
“shit—please. have to feel your sweet pussy wrapped around me or i’ll lose it.”
his words were growing explicit and it was only a matter of time before he actually touches you improperly in front of everyone. you could tell by the way his long fingers inched closer to your clothed cunt.
“..fine. just the tip, like you said.” you breathe out shakily out of pure desire. though, both of you knew that it was going to be more than ‘just the tip’.
satoru grinned and immediately put down the appetiser he was holding onto, grabbing your hand and almost rushing out of the hall.
there were a few sorcerers trying to greet him on the way, yet he didn’t even glance at them once. his eyes were dazed with hunger as he swiftly made his way through the crowd—his thoughts being filled with the ways he’ll have you moan and beg.
satoru opens up the door to the nearest bathroom, pushing you against the wall the moment the door closed behind you.
his glossy lips crash against yours, the lipstick you’re wearing smearing on your lover due to the aggressive and almost sloppy way he kissed you. his tongue prodded against your lips before entering your mouth—strings of saliva and heavy breaths being exchanged between you two for what felt like minutes.
“ah, fuck. i wanted this so bad,” satoru moans against your mouth, sucking on your bottom lip, “..since the moment i saw you in that dress.”
his big hands were all over your body; groping and grabbing onto your flesh, from your ass and thighs to your tits.
“mhhh— ‘toru, god,” you sigh, feeling yourself get wet from just his confessions, “you can have me, all of me.”
your lover grunts at your words. they were exactly what he needed to hear. he roughly pulls the hem of your dress up, revealing your white panties. his all time favourite. a small, lustful grin instantly appears on his face. he always thought that you looked extra innocent in those; and that by ripping those off, that he’ll corrupt that ‘pure’ image.
and don’t let him start on how many times he’s used that specific pair of panties to jerk off. he vividly remembers how his sticky cum covered the cloth afterwards.
“haah—fuckfuckfuck,” satoru curses repeatedly as his fingertips tremble out of pure desire, “can’t wait any longer. you’re gonna walk around the avenue with no panties later on, ‘kay?”
“sato-” your eyes widened and before you could even protest, you hear the fabric of your underwear tearing. the ripped off cloth falling down onto the cold floor.
“there we go,” he mutters in delight, his eyes gazed at your exposed pussy. his fingers rubbed over the skin, grazing the wet folds. a deep, breathy chuckle echoes throughout the bathroom, “this pussy’s just ready to be filled, don’tcha think?”
you nod feverishly and nibble on your lower lip at the way satoru was teasing your clit. his hand slowly cupped your slippery cunt, his palm covering the area entirely before slapping the velvety flesh. three small smacks, each making your limbs tremble.
“ya hear that?” satoru hums, completely overtaken by his desire for you as the squelchy sounds ring in his ears, “so ready to be stretched out and fucked.”
“hnnnh, ah, baby—please just, just fuck me.” you whimper; feeling the pressure of his hand’s thenar against your clit while his fingertips traveled across your vulva.
“oh, i definitely will.” satoru responds with a grunt as he undoes his belt and zipper with his free hand. his trousers and underwear fall down to his ankles, revealing his cock to you.
your mouth watered at the sight as it slightly slapped against his lower abdomen due to the speed at which satoru took his boxers off. the moist drops of thick pre-cum coating his pink tip, the slight curve of his big shaft and the veins covering it—you needed to have him in you.
when satoru thinks that he prepped you enough to take his cock, he removes his hand from between your legs. of course, he isn’t going to waste a chance of tasting your slick that gathered on his skin.
“turn around,” he orders after licking off his fingers and you do as said, “ass back towards me, pretty.”
one of satoru’s hands was on one side of your hips to hold you steady against the cold tiles of the bathroom wall, the other occupied with stroking his cock. satoru was already contemplating on where to cum; in or on you. he’s obsessed with spurting his sticky cum on your plump ass, however he also loved stuffing you full of it.
“deep breaths,” your boyfriend reminds you as he prods the swollen tip of his cock at your entrance—despite the prep, it was always almost impossible to avoid a slight discomforting sensation in the beginning. that man’s length was no joke.
“ahhhh, fuuuck! satoru!” you hiss and your fingernails try to dig into the wall you were pressed against. you felt your folds being forced apart to fit his cock inside of your small cunt.
“shiiit.. you’re fuckin’ tight.” satoru grits his teeth. no matter how many times he breaks your pussy in, you still feel as tight as ever, “..mmh—relax, princess.”
satoru pushed in, inch by inch, until he bottomed out and you both took a deep breath. a sloppy kiss was placed against the back of your neck as reward for taking him in. it was his habit of doing so every time the two of you get intimate.
“‘m gonna start moving. that alright?”
a simple nod coming from you was plenty to let satoru begin with slow, soft thrusts which soon enough turned into deep and firm thrusts—the pounding sounds echoing in the bathroom, “there we go—ahh, yeah— fuck!”
“mhhhg, s’good! ngh!” you slur your words a bit as satoru started to speed up the tempo, feeling his heavy balls slap against the skin near your clit every time he drove his thick cock into you, “mmph! more, wan’ more!”
neither you nor satoru could care anymore if your desperate mewls or the harsh skin-to-skin sounds were heard outside of the dimly lit bathroom.
satoru was slowly losing his mind as he gazed down at your ass and the way you moved your hips back to meet his rough thrusts—he never got enough of you in that position. his hands held onto your hips before moving to your lower back to deepen your arch a little. his eyes were in a trance; he needed to see more of that chubby ass and the recoil of it.
“i swear—you’re gonna make me,haah, cum already,” satoru moans as he tried to find a way to distract himself from the pleasure building up to a breaking point. he decides to gently bite onto your shoulder, running his tongue over the slight mark he left and then continues to suck on the flesh.
“hmmmh, haah, yes! need- need your cum in me, please- please, ‘toru!” you beg in such an erotic tone that satoru can’t help but bite down harder on your shoulder.
“princess—y-you can’t say that-” he swallows a lump in his throat as he forces his cock so deep that you felt it hit your cervix repeatedly, “please- don’t say that.. don’t, oh god—“
satoru was the one begging this time; his voice sounding more whiny than it had ever been during your little session. he can’t help it when it comes to you. he had desired to fuck you since he saw you and now that he was finally doing it, his senses were utterly overwhelmed.
“nonono,” you hear your boyfriend curse as the strokes inside your tight cunt turned harsh and quick, like he was on the verge of his climax, which he didn’t want. he didn’t want to cum in under two minutes, but he’s just so weak when it comes to you. so damn weak.
“ahhh, fuck— s-sorry, baby— can i cum? can i cum in you? please?” he bites his lips, shutting his eyes so tight that he could see colors.
“please, please, let me. mnghhh, please let me cum in you. wanna fill you up.” satoru repeats his words like a chant in your ear. you were as lost in the feeling of ecstasy as your lover was and just nodded at his whiny pleas.
“mhmm, yes, do it—cum in me!”
your permission was all satoru needed and not a second later, you felt ropes and ropes of hot cum flood your cunt and some drops gush out of your pulsating hole.
satoru was quivering slightly as he kept moving his hips in slow pumps, fucking the cum deeper into you. you were full of surprises; he didn’t know he could cum in under two minutes until right that instant. you really had him wrapped around your finger.
and the best thing? he was already starting to get hard once again.
satoru slowly pulled his dick out of you and only let the tip stay a few centimetres in you. one hand went to grab onto the base of his length and he started to tap and move the tip in tiny circular motions in your cum-filled pussy—making sure every single drop is dumped where it belonged.
“fucking greedy, ain’t ya?” satoru hisses as he feels you clench onto his tip like you were doing to his cock earlier, “your pussy just wants to milk me dry.”
you whine and push your hips back a little in attempt to push his cock further into your needy cunt again, “wan’ more.. please, ‘toru?”
gojo satoru was a weakling.
he slammed his cock fully inside of you again and didn’t care if you expected it or not; he was fucking you like there was no tomorrow. his hands were kneading the flesh of your ass, spanking it every now and then to feel you tighten up more around him while his hips were working full time.
“yeah? gonna take another load in your slutty cunt again?” satoru groans as he feels your pussy gripping onto his throbbing cock like it was pleading to be stuffed, “haaah—you’re incredible, nhh, never had anyone make me cum this quick and hard before.”
your body squirmed and shivered each time you felt satoru spank you, ending up in a repeated cycle of you tightening up around him and him smacking the fat of your ass, “yes, yes, yes! want it, please!”
it was incredibly difficult to hold back your own orgasm when satoru was whispering filthy things in your ear, pounding into your creamy pussy while also stimulating your clit.
satoru instantly caught onto the fact that you were nearing your climax. you always started to get more noisy whenever you were close, “aah, mhm—cum on my cock while i dump another load inside of you. c’mon, you can do it.”
satoru’s words made your stomach fill with butterflies, the coil inside of you threatening to finally snap.
“‘m gonna.. gonna cum! gonna cum!” you cry out between ragged breaths, eyes rolling into the back of your head once you reached your long-awaited climax.
the sight of you arching your back even more while you came was the hottest thing satoru’s seen. he rushed his thrusts, becoming more precise to hit your cervix over and over again.
“mhm, jus’ like that—tighten up more.” your lover hisses and his nails dug into the flesh of your hips while he felt your pussy throbbing from overstimulation, “milk me dry, pretty—fuck!”
your mind was foggy with that euphoric feeling after reaching your orgasm. but also due to satoru continuing to bully his thick cock all the way in you, seemingly needing to drain his balls inside your cunt.
“mhhhhnn, ‘m gonna fill ya up again,” he whimpers a bit into your ear from behind while sweat drips from his forehead, “take it all like a good girl, yeah? don’t—haah— waste a drop.”
and with that he spurts and squirts strings of cum into your womb once more. it felt like there was no ending to it as his semen just continued to pump out of the tip.
“fuckkk! got more for you,” satoru almost sobs out, his tongue peeking out from behind his lips as his muscles tense up. he came so much into you that even more of the liquid drizzled down on the floor beneath you, “take it—yeah—jus’ like that.”
a few more deep and chaste strokes and satoru was done. he exhaustedly rests his chin on your shoulder, white locks clinging onto his forehead and his cheeks colouring a reddish hue.
“haahh.. that was amazing.” satoru sighs deeply, trying to catch his breath while wrapping his arms around your waist. he buried his face into your neck, leaving small pecks there while mumbling about how good you were for him.
your eyes were closed as you rest against the wall, enjoying the affection from your lover while you feel his dick go limp inside you. satoru slowly pulls out afterwards, biting his lip as his gaze lingered on all the fluids leaking down your trembling thighs.
“hold on,” satoru murmurs gently, “gonna clean you up, princess.”
his own legs were shaking slightly as he quickly put his boxers and pants back on. your boyfriend grabs a few tissues from a nearby dispenser, kneeling behind you afterwards.
your eyes followed his fingers as they held onto the wipes and started to clean you up slowly. the comfortable silence—excluding the muffled sounds of chatter and music from outside the bathroom—was perfect for you to catch your breath.
satoru was diligently sliding the tissues over your skin, making sure to not be too rough.
as much as he tried telling himself not to get turned on again from the sight of your ass and sopping cunt in front of his face, he just couldn’t.
your lover was breathing heavily and stopped cleaning you up for a second. he really tried his best to stop himself over and over, though the title of being the strongest didn’t apply to his self control.
his large hands came up to hold onto your ass, spreading the cheeks apart which made your lips part in shock. you looked over your shoulder at him and sensed the resurfacing lust in the air. not only that: his warm breath hit your sensitive pussy as he panted in a hungry way.
satoru lifted his head up to meet your eyes, flashing you a (not so) apologetic grin;
“sorry, pretty. i need to get my dessert.”
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mrskokushibo · 3 months
Text
Forgiveness
Kokushibo x fem!reader
Sequel to Beg!
Warnings: Sex, Smut, MDNI, NSFW, 18+
Summary: You were dealt penance for you have sinned. Now, Kokushibo offers you his mercy: aftercare, sleep, food, and a relaxing, hot bath. But is this really all you need? This is part 2 of BEG !
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Masterlist
You were tucked away in bed, your body still aching from the events of last night. With eyes slowly opening, still dimmed after a deep sleep, gradually adjusting to the candle-lit room, you could barely make out what was in front of you, but after a few moments, the sight stirred your insides... Because in your clear line of sight was your lover.
Kokushibo was seated on his favourite armchair in the corner of the room next to the large futon you both shared. The chair was a big, European-style, heavily adorned piece, big enough for two, he jokingly called it his throne. And it might just as well have been exactly that, the countless times you were kneeling in front of him, worshipping his manhood.
He was lounging leisurely, wearing only a thin purple yukata that showed off more than it covered, making him look …. delicious to your starved senses. His muscular legs spread, chest partly bared, and his hair down. As always on his days off, he was reading, and he absolutely loved to immerse himself in a captivating story. Six eyes fixated on the text; he kept on sipping a dark red liquid out of a crystal glass. Wine, you presumed. He was a bit of a wine snob.
You loved his chamber, dark walls with tapestries, soft Persian rugs covering the tatami, chandeliers, and bookshelves, rows, and rows of bookshelves. Decorative cushions, soft down-filled quilts, and velvet blankets were all over the large bed.
The quiet sounds of you waking up must have registered with his heightened senses because he lifted his eyes to meet yours. Slowly putting down his book while still holding on to the glass, he leaned back in the armchair. His gaze studying you, lips twitching with the quickest and faintest of smiles. It looked like it was a struggle for him to remain serious. He took a sip of the wine and finally spoke.
‘You slept for a very long time. I assume you must be hungry.’
You nodded slowly in reply. He must have used the telepathic communication to call on a servant as within minutes one of them entered the chamber carrying a tray. With a nod of his head, Kokushibo pointed her in your direction. The servant put the tray on the bedside table while helping you sit down against the large pillows. You were sore… The tray had small fold-out legs that made it into a tray table perfect for eating in bed.  
While you were eating, he concentrated back on his reading and wine. Every now and then you were glancing his way, admiring the noble profile of his face. Oh, you were so horny. Despite the violent punishment you suffered last night, without reaching an orgasm of your own, your insides were almost literally on fire, wetness making you rub your thighs involuntarily. There was not much for you to resort to, but remain in this state until he allowed you near him again.
Once you were done with your meal, you put the tray aside and adjusted yourself down on the pillows. This action caught his attention.
‘I think a bath will do you good, don’t you think?’.
You nodded again, sheepishly. On the way to the bathroom, he walked past you and around the bed, still carrying his wine glass. He was so tall and fit; you were close to drooling. Very soon the sound of water pouring out of a tap was reaching the chamber. It always took ages to fill that tub as it was almost the size of a small pool. The sound of water was soothing and made you drift off into a short nap. Finally, the pouring of water stopped and a moment later you were woken up by Koku standing next to you.
‘Hmmm, you know, I am afraid you will have trouble walking for a day or two’.
His voice deep and soft now, was it compassion you could sense? With that, he buried his arms in the soft mattress under you and lifted you off the bed as if you weighed nothing. You rested your head on his chest and into his thick mane. This was heaven, you could stay like this forever.
Well in the bathroom, he placed you seated on the edge of the tub and gently helped you remove your yukata. You were too aroused and your thoughts too scattered to even register what was happening. Right now, you were trying to take in what he has prepared for you in the bathroom.
The whole place was lit with chandeliers, the smell of precious oils permeating the air and there was a large pillow next to where you were meant to rest your head on the side of the bathtub. Once again, he lifted you up and placed you in the warm, fragrant water, gently placing your head on the pillow. The sensation of the warmth engulfing every crevice of your body, refocused you on the needy feeling between your legs.
‘Make sure to relax now. I put some oils in the water that will help you regenerate faster.’
He was just about to leave when you decided you had enough of waiting. You reached out and grabbed his forearm and looked into the six eyes pleadingly.
‘Can you stay with me?’
He tilted his head slightly and scrunched his lips in a playful grin.
‘Are you sure you can handle, hmmm, sex when you are this battered?’
Your eyes widened at the shameless mention of what he knew was on your mind…
‘Yes, I am sure’ you whispered; your voice almost breaking.
Without taking his eyes off you, he slid out of his barely covering clothes and stepped into the tub. He sat down next to you and wrapped his arm behind your neck until your head rested on his large biceps. With his free hand, he started tracing your neck, up to your jawline, your ears, your eyes now closed in pleasure, then your cheek and the line of your brows. His delicate actions were sending small electric shocks of pleasure.
Your hand drifted towards his groin, his cock hard and large, you started stroking it gently moving on to grabbing hold of it and pumping up and down the entire length. His girth was huge and your small hand could not grab hold of it fully, so you were pumping in a snaking movement, trying to touch every part of his now twitching cock.
The action made him release a quiet sigh and lean over you and kiss your lips gently. He slowly but decisively pried your mouth open with his hungry tongue and the two of you entwined in a wet, passionate kiss, tongues caressing each other, that lasted for what felt like an eternity, his long fingers continuing to touch your face and hair.
Eventually, his hand started moving down your neck and onto one of your breasts. His large hand cupped the soft mound and started kneading it and thus sending even more pleasure impulses down to your sex. Suddenly, he pinched your nipple and persisted with this until you started arching your body as the wave of intense arousal and pleasure was hitting you senseless. It was lucky you were in water, because you were sopping wet. Your juices were literally running out of you now as you were slowly losing all control of yourself. You were moaning like a whore and your hand on his cock was gripping tighter for every wave of pleasure he was gifting you.
‘I want you inside me’ you moaned.
Without a word he lifted you off where you were sitting and placed you in his lap, his cock sliding in you causing you to cling on to him tight. He grabbed you under your ass cheeks and started bouncing you on him. The position was making his cock rub its whole length against your g-spot and you were slowly but surely becoming your arousal, your walls clamping around him and your pussy squirting all over the thick member. His tempo was steady and consistent and after a few minutes of this, you reached an orgasm so intense that your scream could be heard well outside of Kokushibo’s chamber.
When you collapsed onto him, he kept on going until his own release filled you up with his warm semen. The two of you stayed in this passionate embrace for a while, exchanging soft caresses and an occasional kiss. After a while, he pulled his head away from you and looking you straight in the eye and with a mischievous smile, said:
‘I hope you feel better now, my love.’
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Divider by @cafekitsune
Tagging: @doumadono @cursetopia2 @crescentmoontsuki @muzansfangs @horror4themasses
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yumeboshi · 4 months
Note
hi yume congrats on your follower event, you deserve each one !! <3 can i please order a dragonfruit champagne sundae HEHE 🧚🏻‍♀️
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❝ THANK YOU FOR YOUR ORDER、@justblades .ᐟ ⟡ HERE IS YOUR RECEIPT FROM CAFÉ YUME ⟡
𐙚DRAGONFRUIT CHAMPAGNE SUNDAE:sends you right into ‘paradise’!
𐙚 dish desc。.a drunk date gone unexpectedly wrong?
.。𝜗𝜚 labels。smutty, drunk, engaged in Sunday and not yet with blade, im sorry if you were disappointed dhil was not here because of the dragon label (I really can’t write him well lolol i hope I compensated with blade & chicken boy) MINORS DNI
.。𝜗𝜚 ingredients。sunday and blade
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#SྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིUNDAY
A FANCY dinner in the Reverie’s most expensive restaurant is nothing but a part of SUNDAY’s “casual date” plan.
he’s a refined man, and a gentleman at that- he knows all the right things to do to swoon you. he knows how to make you flush, he knows just exactly when you expected a kiss from him. and of course, he knows what to say to make you fall over yourself, as if he has the entire script of your dialogue in his hands. things like this are so easy for him to do, and his plans always work out because of how expertly he steers you around.
unfortunately, a possibility he did not foresee was this— a drunk you, wasted and tipsy and giggling at his ‘funny chicken wings—‘ all the while carelessly leaning into him and basically being so difficult. it was difficult for him to restrain the heat that slowly pulses through his entire body when you sloppily say daring things your shy self won’t ever dare say when sober.
“sweetheart, please— we’re in a public area.” he gently tells you at first, trying to recover you back to your original state— although it’s just futile attempts of him trying to make you sit upright and not leaning into his chest because it makes him hot and hard to breathe.
“no we’re noooot, people aren’t around….” you slur, batting your eyes up at him sleepily with an attractive little smile lit up by the dim candles. and lord, he feels tricked. he feels like he’s lost to you for some reason- the way your sleepy gaze and your soft voice pulls on his restraints deceptively gently like a siren’s call- he’s glad the area is dim and people aren’t around, because the head of the oak family not knowing what to do with his evident blush across his face would give away how little control he actually has over himself.
“don’t do that,” he reprimands you. his eyes are blazing with a dark flame that’s far too intense for you to take in-
but your sluggish brain does not register anything- you only giggle and swat his arm that’s warningly on your own. “or else what?” you hiccup with a grin.
lavish silver plates clatter and fall to the ground rhythmically with your loud gasps when sunday’s cock thrusts violently into you once more, a lewd slap echoing across the embarrassingly empty restaurant— chest pressed firmly against your table while you hold onto the smooth sides to barely hang on. “—s-slow down,” you’d plead to him- helplessly dangling to the silky tablecloth, to no avail, since it slips out of your grasps easily when he pounds into you with dangerous speed.
“oh? you seemed keen to tease me earlier. are you already sober, angel?” he slows to talk to you in condescension, but when you try to tell him that the alcohol made you do that— he only picks up the pace, escalating your words into incoherent pleas of release-
“saying such dirty little words in a lovely restaurant. do I have to fuck in some manners into your pretty head?” with another violent thrust and a groan, he drags himself out against your slit to coat it with wet fluids that trickle down your sides to spill all over the table.
yes, he thinks it’s deceptive, the way your pussy struggles to take in his load, the way you mewl and squeal his name for more, drunk and needy— the way your ass moves so lewdly with the rhythm of his thrusts, skin trembling. this is sin, he knows, but you are just too beautiful for him to stop. maybe he will have to feed you more purposeful alcohol when you’re sober again, because fuck, how could you be even more obscenely seductive in this state?
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#BྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིLADE
BLADE doesn’t know how to react— because his only recent alcohol experience is when he occasionally joined kafka for wine- and the woman showed no signs of being drunk at all.
but when he sees you- subdued to a giggling tipsy mess, his mind draws a blank. What was he supposed to do? he calls your name out briefly, then realized you were too busy burying yourself in his arms like a cat, smiling dreamily at him while telling him his eyes look so pretty today.
he doesn’t like the way his chest tightens up when you say that. he doesn’t like the way he feels so out of control as if the mara is actually taking him over- guiding his hands to tighten around your waist, possessive touches that make you squeal.
“stop that,” he mutters, indirectly at you and at himself.
“stop what, bladie?” you ask with a playful kiss on his jaw, which visibly tightens. “oh come on, don’t be so uptight. didn’t you plan this date?” you continue to trip over your words and droop all over his arms like pudding so bad that blade had to press your back against him so you won’t tip over.
he did plan the home date, just by Kafka’s constant teasing. she’d told him that wine was the perfect idea, that they would be able to have a “heartfelt one on one conversation.” he thought that part meant you would be able to be coherent but unfortunately no, now you’re drunk and illogical and basically his entire plan to talk to you seriously about engagement just went downhill.
“we have to talk,” he says directly, although his voice comes out so weird, as if it’s being strangled. the weird heat in his body spreads violently when you turn around to face him with a little lovely smile, eyelashes drooping, hands so sneakily fiddling with the hem of his belt.
“what could you possibly want to talk about right n—ngh!”
your sentence goes unfinished, and the next thing you know, your face is pressed flat against the cushion couch. you can’t see anything at all, but you hear hasty movements and a belt clanking to the floor, and suddenly his cold hands are right on you, veiny fingers tracing the outline of your puffy clit before hooking up the strap of fabric with a finger to tear it easily.
when you continue to beg him for an answer, he shuts you up with his thick cock that wedges its way into your gummy walls, stretching you all so suddenly to make you gasp into the pillows.
“b-blade,” you whine, “-s’ too big.”
“ill make it fit,” he says simply, but the primal groan beneath it lets you know he’s not going to stop until he fits it in.
he buries into you at a cruelly fast pace, too lost in his own euphoria to hear you whimper and sob how much it’s hurting. aeons, why is he doing this just now? the way you clench around him draws out a lengthy groan, leaning against the table to calm himself down from such an arousing sight of glistening moisture soaking his cock nicely.
the cold air tickling your ass disperses quickly with his animalistic thrusts that give you burning heat, fucking out your constant whimpers and squeals that you’re going to cum, and he lets you cum, hastily pounding himself in to relieve the bothersome blistering arousal that spurts all over your walls to paint them his.
now he knows that kafka fucking did plan this out, but he’s not angry. in fact, he is almost thankful she set him up, because good lord, he knows he won’t ever be satisfied until your holes are stuffed full with his cum.
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