#eventually smut

[submissivebookmark-motherofchaos]

Catch Me When I Fall

Hermione is dating Ron when he breaks up with her. Draco seeing his chance, takes it. This is a story of falling in love and what happens when you come together and something unexpected happens. Draco and Hermione will have to navigate their new reality with the support of their friends and family.

Books flew from their resting place on the shelves and hunted Mr Weasley as he tried to duck and dodge each item that pelted him in the head and the back. 

He raised his arms and tried to flee; the books were hot on his tail. 

“Hermione! Stop!” he cried out. 

She said nothing, Severus didn’t think she could hear him over the clatter in the room. 

Mr Weasley grunted as a large tome slammed into his back, and then ducked and hunched over the back of the couch, and the next one sailed past him, only to return to him and slam him in the arse. 

“Stop it!” he screamed. 

Molly stood there, worrying her hands. It was strange to Severus, that the items being tossed towards Mr Weasley never came close to hitting anyone else. Just him, the object of her ire. 

“Stop! This is your fault! You would never have sex with me, you stupid swot!” Mr Weasley screamed into the tempest. 

All movement stopped and everything clattered to the floor as Hermione sucked in a sharp breath. “What did you say?” she whispered. 

Mr Weasley straightened himself up and his clothes. A small trickle of blood dripped from his forehead down his cheek and he swiped at it with the corner of his jumper smearing it across his face. 

“I said—look, Hermione, it’s over. I found someone else. She’s pregnant with my child. I just didn’t know how to tell you. YOU never wanted to have sex with me, so I went elsewhere. It’s your fault this happened. If you just—.” 

He didn’t finish his sentence because Potter cocked his fist back and punched Mr Weasley in the face, a satisfying crunch echoed around the room. He tumbled to the ground and looked up in shock as Hermione stood there stalk still. 

[rmoonstoner]

So Strange

***

Note:

I am starting at the point of when Stephen is already in Tibet. We don't need a retelling of the story on how he got there, because it's literally the same.

First chapter is a bunch of memories/small blerbs about events that are different from the Canon timeline.

Warnings:

No major warnings at this time. Just a lot of whumpy feelings. Maybe some traumatic experience memories. Foul language. Story is PG to start, but will progress to NSFW/18+ eventually, with Stephen being paired with the fem!reader at a later date.

No one has proofread for me. If you are interested, please let me know. If you would like to be tagged, please let me know.

***

Chapter 1 - So Strange

***

How did he get here? He knew how, but why had he allowed himself to get to this low of a level, before reaching out for help. He was a jaded man that was desperate for his old life back, and in that desperation, he had rejected the ones he cared about most in this world. He had outright lashed out at the love of his life, because he couldn't accept his fate.

He tried everything to fix it, but nothing worked past getting his hands good enough to hold a cup, let alone being able to write. He once had beautiful writing, but now it looked worse than a family doctor's chicken scratched prescriptions.

He had exhausted all of his options, and when they all eventually failed, he would throw a fit and lash out at anyone whether or not they deserved it.

They never deserved it.

His friends and family, and eventually, his girlfriend all left him. They couldn't tolerate his crazed rants or frenzied plans to regain the original movement he once had in his hands. He had become ruder and meaner then he used to be. Now he resembled a very grumpy old man. He even had the scraggly beard, unkempt hair, and he looked older than he did during the accident. The graying streaks on the slide of his head were now more prominent and turned white from the stress and his constant misery. It was evident on his face where the wrinkles deepened.

Now here he sat, on dusty stone steps, watching the world go by as he leaned against the heavy wooden door of the Kamar-Taj. He had been turned away when he first arrived. It had been seven days since he refused to budge from the spot.

He was growing weaker by the day, having spent every last cent to his name. He only held a shitty flip phone and the watch he was gifted by his ex.

He was losing almost any hope of gaining entry to this mysterious place that claimed to be able to heal injuries that even his own colleagues could not (and did not want to) fix.

It came down to selling his watch. The only thing of sentimental value he had left of his beloved. He knew it held more monetary value and he needed food to survive…

So, as his stomach threatened to burn holes through his lining, he finally broke down and decided to sell the watch.

For the first time in days, he decided to leave the steps, going farther into the market with purpose. More so then when he went into the market when just going to find a spot to relieve himself.

He wandered the market, looking for a stall that would take his broken keepsake. He knew it was worth a pretty penny, even if it had damage. The glass plate could be replaced and the gears inside just needed to be realigned. After visiting three stalls, he finally found one that appeared to show interest in the watch. He was just trying to barter with one merchant, and getting told a resounding no, when another overheard the conversation.

"Excuse me, I saw that you're trying to sell your watch. May I have a look at it?" It was an old woman with a veil over her face.

She was dressed in old yellow robes and scraps of cloth. She didn't appear to be the type that could offer him anything helpful, but he was desperate. For once, he kept his snarky comments to himself and approached her with a slow nod.

"Yes. Yes, I am trying to sell my watch." He replied and held up the item in question. She glanced down and hummed.

"Aren't you that man that's been camped out on the temple steps for the past week?" She asked, and he nodded.

"The same one that was almost robbed of this very watch that you claimed meant the world to you?" She asked another question and he didn't hesitate.

"Yes." He murmured softly.

"Why have you changed your mind?"

"I… The person who gave this to me is no longer in my life, because I allowed my anger and my depression to get the better of me. I was cruel to her and pushed her away. It's value to me is no longer sentimental, but now a constant and unbearable reminder of how I failed her, and everyone around me."

"Ah, I see. It sounds more like you failed yourself by being much too harsh on yourself. Tell me, young man, what is it you need the money for?" She asked as she looked up to see his tired looking face.

"I am hungry. I need food. I am cold at night, and my blankets have holes. I want to use some of the money to use the bathhouse, because I am sure I smell terrible." Stephen explained through tears that threatened to spill from his eyes.

"Well you certainly do smell terrible. Tell you what, I shall give you a basket of fruits and veggies, some cheeses, dried meats, nuts, seeds, and grains. I can add bread and some water. On top of this, I will give you more every day for as long as you need, if you agree to help me with my chores. I cannot offer you a place to stay, but I can help you look for one." She said with a calm and kind voice.

He mulled it over for a few seconds, trying to decide if this was really worth giving away his watch. The woman waited patiently as he thought about it.

He was stuck in Tibet, with no money, and nothing else to his name. His hands were crippled and he was useless to find a normal job. His clothing was in tatters, and he had been starved for weeks, just barely able to get by.

"I… I accept your terms. What do you want me to do?" He sighed in defeat and passed the watch over to her.

"Thank you, Stephen. Here's your basket of goodies, and I'll see you again tomorrow at noon back here." The old woman said as she handed him a basket that definitely wasn't there before.

"Thank you, kindly." He was too hungry to question it, or how she knew his name. She hadn't turned the watch over to see the back engraving.

"Wait. Please take this as well." She added with a smile as he produced a weathered old guitar and a pack of new strings.

Stephen stared at the guitar, wondering if she'd lost her mind. It was such an insensitive gift, given that he had showed her his hands, yet he said nothing and took the gift anyway. He slung the guitar over his back and set the strings into his pocket as he thanked her again, but when he turned around, she and her stall were gone.

Baffled, he made his way back to the steps at the temple, sitting down and digging into the food he had received. He decided it was well worth the indentured servitude that was to come. He didn't even look at the guitar that night.

***

The next day, Stephen had returned to the old woman's stall. It felt like it was a few blocks closer then it was the day before, and Stephen was absolutely certain it was twenty blocks away, and not sixteen. He dismissed the oddity as her not being able to set up in the same place as before. Perhaps some other merchant had taken her previous spot. He didn't even bother to go check.

Today he was tasked with hanging up fabrics for one of her stall neighbors. It took him over an hour, but they were patient with him as he painstakingly clipped hangers to each garment and hung them up on hooks. He was given a basket of food, a voucher for the bathhouse, and then told to come back at the same time the next day.

Stephen happily went to the bathhouse with his basket and found a small spot in a corner next to a grumpy looking bald man. He was careful to avoid bothering him as he got to the stall where he was supposed to do a proper cleaning, before stepping foot into the shared water space.

He took his bags, the guitar, and his clothing off, setting them down in a way that gave him barely any privacy. He washed himself efficiently, but harshly, trying to scrub every bit of dirt and grime away as best as he could. His doctor's training had him washing certain areas repeatedly, to the point of using the sponge to turn his skin red. He even took the time to clean under his nails and wash his face and hair thoroughly, before he stepped into the warm pool of water.

"You sure took a long time over there." The man in the pool said.

Stephen blinked when he heard perfect English and he turned his head to look at him.

"I… I uh… I was backpacking for a while. Haven't had a chance to bathe."

"But you used the entire bar of soap."

"I like to be extra clean."

"You washed everything four times."

"I used to be a surgeon. Old habits die hard." Stephen sighed and he slowly sank down to his shoulders and leaned against the wall.

"A surgeon? Then why do you look like a homeless bum?"

Normally, Stephen would have been offended and had a snarky remark to show just how offended he was, but he had the wind knocked from his sails recently. He just sighed deeply and held his scarred and twisted looking hands up to show the man.

"Oh… I'm sorry I asked."

"It's alright. That was my old life. I'll never be a surgeon again." Stephen's voice was hollow as he closed his eyes and enjoyed the water.

"Why are you here, then?"

"I came here in the hopes of finding the Kamar-Taj and maybe receive help in repairing my hands. I apparently can't get them to even open the door for me." Stephen explained while he rubbed his tired feeling legs.

"Oh? They don't just let anyone in, you know."

"I know. I've given up for a bit. I am helping out a merchant with her stall to pass the time. She gives me food and drink, and she gave me a voucher to come here, so I don't scare her customers away with my funk." He laughed as he looked at his hands. They still had dark creases, stains from going so long without a cleansing.

"Well, perhaps you should take this time to help her and regain your strength."

"Yeah. I think I will."

The two men talked for a while. Stephen learned that his name was Hamir and that he lived nearby. He told Stephen stories of the local lore, areas to avoid, and areas that were a must see. Stephen offered to share his goodies with him, and they both happily ate and exchanged stories about their lives.

It wasn't long, before Hamir had to go, and Stephen decided he should leave as well. Again, he made his way back towards the temple with his little half empty basket and fell asleep against the doorframe.

***

For three weeks, Stephen kept coming back to the old woman's stall to do small tasks for her. Each time he made the journey, he found the stall had gotten closer each time. Fifteen blocks away, then twelve, and then ten. He thought it was very peculiar that she kept moving her stall, but he didn't question it at all. When the stall couldn't get any closer to the Kamar-Taj, it stayed still and didn't move again.

He also started to mess around with the guitar over these weeks. He tried it out and hated how the tuning sounded. He changed the strings and tuned it perfectly, yet his fingers could barely play. He would only practice when he sat at the steps of the temple, and he sounded awful.

He spent a week folding fine linens and packaging them up into protective canvas sacks. After work he would go back to the temple and practice until he fell asleep.

He spent another week hanging herbs and spices to dry. Again, he would go back and practice the instrument.

On the third week, he helped pack jars and envelopes with dried spices. He didn't even realize that each task was gradually getting harder and longer, nor did he notice that was gradually getting better at handling the guitar. He still sounded terrible, so he didn't even notice.

By the beginning of the fourth week, Hamir had found him again. Stephen was busy beating dirt and dust from the mats of several stalls around the one the old woman had. He was covered in dirt and sweat as the man approached the old woman and chatted with her for a few moments. Stephen glanced up and noticed Hamir, giving a wave, before going right back to work on the last mat.

"Hello! It's good to see you again!" Hamir said as he came up to Stephen. He didn't seem to mind the dust flying at him as Stephen worked.

"Hello, Hamir. It is good to see you again." Stephen greeted back with a half smile.

"I see you're working hard, just like you said you would." Hamir commented, causing Stephen to chuckle.

"I am trying to earn my keep. Granny Tilly has been so kind and patient. I owe it to her to help out, even if I am only able to do minimal tasks."

"Don't you find it beneath you?"

"I used to… But now… I am just grateful for any help that I can get." Stephen quietly admitted.

Hamir raised his brows and then gave Stephen a smile as he watched the broken man put the mat down and roll it up. Once he was done, he patiently stood back as he watched the old woman make up a small basket for Stephen to take away. Stephen gave his thanks and went to leave, when Hamir asked to accompany him back to wherever he went after work.

Along the way, Hamir asked Stephen a series of questions.

"Where do you go after work?"

"I go back to the temple and I sit outside of the doors. I practice with this old guitar that Grandma Tilly gave to me. I'm not very good at it."

"I see. Do you even knock? Surely they can hear you playing."

"Oh, yes. Certainly. I knock when I get back, but no one answers. I knock when I wake up, and again, no one answers. I've seen people go in and come out, but never when I am sitting by the door. By the time I can reach the door and knock, no one comes. When I play, no one complains or tells me to stop." Stephen said sadly and he flexed his hands repeatedly while switching the basket to his other hand every so often.

"Perhaps you need to do something else to gain their attention. Are you musically inclined at all?" Hamir asked with a small smile, but Stephen's face didn't change much from his pitiful expression.

"No. I don't play anything well. I've just been trying to get my fingers to move enough to make the chords."

"Shame-"

"But! I am very good at hearing pitch and tone, and I know all the musical terminology. I can tell you any song after hearing only a few seconds of it. Uh, if I have heard it before and know the name."

"Really?"

"Yes. There's an app that does that as well, and I can beat it frequently. I just need to hear a song once in its entirety to be able to remember it." Stephen said with a small smile beginning to develop at the corners of his face.

Hamir seemed both impressed and skeptical at this information. Without another word, he fished out a small iPod from his robes and turned it on. In seconds, a tune was playing, and Stephen's eyes lit up.

"Freebird, by Lynyrd Skynyrd. It came out in the beginning of November 1974, but was made in April on the 3rd, the previous year." He compulsively blurted out the answer and a little bit more. Hamir grinned and immediately changed the song.

"Wannabe, by the Spice Girls. Released on June 26th, 1996." Stephen happily said. Again the song changed.

"Boulevard of Broken Dreams, by Green Day. It was put out on November 29th, 2004." Stephen was now becoming excited.

He enjoyed this little game, and he missed it terribly when Christine and the other medical staff used to play it with him. Hamir was now fully invested in this, now actively looking for songs to stump Stephen. He picked an obscure song, hoping it would. Not even ten seconds into the song, Stephen snapped his fingers and hopped up and down with an answer.

"Maxwell's Silver Hammer. The Beatles. Recording started on July 9th through to the 11th, and finished on August 6th of 1969. It was released on September 26th the next month." Stephen had a good hold on the song.

Almost every song Hamir presented to him, he genuinely enjoyed. He wasn't a fan of the Spice Girls, but it didn't bother him.

"Fantastic job, but are you willing to keep this game going?"

"Oh, yes. Throw anything you want at me. If you stump me, that'll surprise me. All I ask, is that if I haven't heard it, that we listen to it in its entirety, then you tell me what it's called and the artist who made it."

"Deal. I'll even do you one better. I'll let you read the Wiki page for it, so you can get all the neat little facts. Next, try this one." Hamir grinned as he hit play on the next song.

"Get Along. It is the theme song to the Japanese Anime, Slayers, season one. It aired on April 7th, 1995. It was performed by Megumi Hayashibara and Masami Okui, and the lyrics were written by Satomi Arimori. It was composed by Hidetoshi Satō, and it was arranged by Tsutomu Ōhira." Stephen said, much to Hamir's surprise.

"How the hell did you even know that one?"

"My ex's niece used to watch it. I found it… Weird, but it was entertaining. I enjoy that animation style quite a lot actually. A little odd they focused a lot on how large the main character's breasts were. That shouldn't be an issue when Lina is a powerful sorceress that can burn a man to a crisp." Stephen said as he went into detail about the show. He wouldn't admit it, but he loved anime for the extremely complicated magic portrayal they had.

"Well I don't think I am going to use any more anime, then. Here, try this one on for size." This time Stephen was listening for a good forty seconds, and Hamir thought he had finally stumped Stephen, when Stephen again, spoke up.

"Yuve Yuve Yu, by The Hu, and that's H U, not W H O. I was told it was released in 1998."

"Okay, now how do you know this one?"

"I heard it at the airport when I first came here. I liked it enough, that I asked who the artist was."

"I'm impressed. Ah, it looks as though we have arrived at the temple." Hamir announced as he motioned to the door.

Stephen frowned. For the first time in a while, he had been genuinely enjoying himself and now it was cut short.

"Oh… Yeah… I guess you have to go now, right?"

Hamir nodded and waited. Stephen stared at him, then looked back at the door. Reluctantly, he went up and gave a good couple of knocks and stood back to wait. After a few moments, Stephen sighed and his shoulders slumped.

Hamir stepped forward. Stephen was confused, because no one had answered. Was is friend going to try again for him?

Hamir got up to the door and cleared his throat, before knocking a certain way.

Knock, knock.

Pause.

Knock.

Pause.

Knock, knock, knock.

"Hey, it's alright. They won't answer." Stephen sighed and placed a hand to Hamir's shoulder.

No sooner had he spoken, then the door opened with a loud creak. The same man that had saved Stephen from his attack earlier that month was standing there with a hard look on his face that quickly changed when he saw Hamir.

"Oh! Master Wong! It's good to see you! How was your day out?" The man said as he respectfully bowed before Hamir.

Stephen's face fell into shock as Hamir smiled and bowed back. His jaw slowly dropped and Hamir turned to him with twinkling eyes.

"Master Mordo, can you please get some tea ready for my guest?" Hamir requested and he motioned for Stephen to come forward.

Stephen's mouth snapped shut and he came over while looking particularly nervous. Hamir let him in, while Mordo left to grab some tea.

"Master… Wong?" Stephen asked and looked around the inside of the building as he processed the title's meaning.

"Ah, yes. My name is Master Hamir Wong. Please, just call me Wong. I am one of the many masters here at the Kamar-Taj. Please, have a seat."

Stephen was promptly given a chair to sit in, with it literally being shoved under him. He sat down awkwardly and looked around, finding no one there that could have shoved the chair at him. When he looked back, there was now a coffee table, and a cup of steaming hot tea.

"So, Doctor Strange… I've gotten to know you over a few meetings. I've seen the good you've been doing for Grandma Tilly, and the other market vendors. She's said that you don't complain about the tasks she gives you, but you do moan and mope about your lost life and your sore hands. I mean, that's fair, given everything you have gone through."

Stephen hung his head and went to pick up the tea cup with both of his shaking hands as Wong continued to speak.

"I also know why you came here. You wish to heal yourself. I believe you can, and move on from the sadness you are drowning in. With time, you will even regain almost one hundred percent of the use of your hands."

Stephen's face lit up and he sat up in his seat. He looked down at his twisted fingers and then back up at Hamir.

"Almost completely?" He asked hopefully. A small part of him still clung to the idea that he could go back to his glamorous old life of being a surgeon.

"That depends on you, and your willingness to surrender yourself to our teachings." A familiar voice rang out.

Stephen looked over to see the old woman he had been helping. She had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, and now she looked far younger than she did before. She was dressed in golden robes with fine embroidery, and she gave Stephen a knowing smile.

Again his jaw dropped.

"Grandma… Tilly?"

"Yes, but also no. My name is Master Yao, but everyone calls me the Ancient One. I am pleased that you have proven yourself worthy enough to gain entry into this place. I had Master Mordo and Master Wong follow you around. Mordo stayed hidden, up until you were assaulted, then he vanished again to keep an eye on you. Wong's role to was to see how you react to others that weren't helping you with anything, except friendship."

"So… You were testing me all that time?"

"Yes, Stephen, I was. I have seen many possible futures, and instead of being harsh on you, I decided that we should take a different path, the one you've just gone down. It was either that, or the path where I put you in your place by sending you to Mount Everest to nearly freeze to death."

Stephen's face fell and he looked confused.

"What? Possible futures? Choosing a different path? What does that mean?" He asked and she slowly sat down in front of him.

With a wave of her hand, she made another teacup appear on the table, and then it began to fill with with piping hot tea. Stephen watched, transfixed as she had a sip, and started to move her hand. The tea cup set itself down onto the table and she gave him a smile.

"It means, that had you been allowed to enter our sanctuary the first week you arrived, you would have been ten times more insufferable than your current self." She explained and showed him a small viewing orb with scenes of him helping her and the other merchants.

"By asking for your help as a feeble old woman, you learned to listen to others that you once considered beneath you. It allowed you to work on using your hands and getting used to real work again. It helped you calm down, and be less angry with yourself and the world. It taught you respect and manners, and how to take what life gives you and be less, how the kids say, angsty about it." When Yao finished, the orb faded away, the last image was of Stephen giving her the watch.

Stephen was mesmerized by the display of what he could only call magic. It explained the appearing chair when no one was there. It explained the suddenly there tea, with no sign of Master Mordo, the one who was tasked with getting the tea in the first place. It explained the viewing orbs and the way the woman had made her own tea appear, and even tilted the cup to show him how it was slowly filling with tea.

But that wasn't possible, was it?

Sure, there were supernatural things out there, but science had explained almost all of them

Tony Stark's whole deal with his technology and the reactor core in his chest. But it was science, not magic.

How genetics had mutated the human genome to create Mutants, Inhumens, Spiders, and other closely related things. Again, science.

Black Widow and Captain America were modified through scientific testing and research.

Hawkeye had professional training to be the sharp shooter that he was. That was a special science as well.

Doctor Bruce Banner, a man Stephen highly respected, had been turned into The Hulk by Gamma radiation when he really should have died…

But it did not explain how the Mighty Thor could use a hammer that seemingly had no tech inside to power it, or help the supposed God fly. It didn't explain the lightning, or the basic fact that Thor, was most indeed, Thor from the legends.

It did not explain Wanda, the Scarlet Witch. Her name was literally screaming, 'Magic!'

He looked down at his tea, and smacked his lips, then he looked up at Yao. He was starting to think that he might have possibly been drugged with something. Maybe she had been microdosing him with mushrooms or something…

"And no, Doctor, it's not psilocybin, or LSD, or anything else for that matter. It is just tea, with a little honey. What you are seeing is very real, and you can learn to do it, too." She said calmly as she pulled yet another orb up and showed Stephen images from his past.

It started with his sister's death, moved on to him studying, then showed him graduating.

A whole montage of Stephen played while he was working at the hospital. It showed him moving up in the rankings of the best surgeon in the city within weeks of landing a job. Within three months, he had become a sensation in the medical world, and was the top surgeon for all of the world.

But then more of those hospital images played, showing just how dark and unkind Stephen had become over time. It showed the many people he had refused, just because their insurance wouldn't cover the procedures, or that they just weren't interesting cases. A high mortality rate followed his refusal to do those surgeries, and the ones that lived, had twisted and horrible lives.

It showed the one man he had refused. The one that was desperate and begged Stephen to take his case, but the doctor had given him a resounding 'No.' Stephen wasn't swayed by the tears he had shed. It was the same man Stephen had later begged and pleaded with to share his secrets to his healing process.

Another image played, going to the car accident. Stephen could have sworn he saw two images playing at once. One appeared to show the actual crash, exactly how it happened, with him ending up with his broken hands. The other that overlapped it, showed the same crash, but Christine was with him, and she ended up dead.

He was horrified to see that secondary image. He felt goosebumps prickle his skin all over, and he swallowed thickly, before going for his tea. He never even thought about that possibility. Stephen grabbed his tea and drank another sip, thankful that didn't actually happen to him, even if it felt very real.

"Now, Doctor Stephen Strange, a doctor by experience and title. You will never be the man you once were. You've been through a lot, and now is the time for your metamorphosis. Do you wish to see the world the way that we do?"

Stephen didn't hesitate. He nodded vigorously and put his tea down to clap his hands together. If he could achieve these things, he wouldn't need medicine anymore. He could live his life, becoming one with the world, and hopefully heal his hands and his very soul.

He didn't even stop to think about a valid protest to her offer. The fact she had already stated she had seen possible futures, told him she had lived this moment before. That she already dealt with him, and he had been just as snotty and snide as he had been a year prior. From what she had done and shown him, he was ready to believe her more easily this go around.

He also didn't even want to think about the fact it was possible he had already lived that moment as well.

Yao smiled warmly at him and nodded as she picked up her tea and had a long sip. When she put it down, the cup was empty, save for some bits of tea leaves at the bottom.

"Prepare to be open with me. Let your mind settle, and close your eyes. Surrender yourself to the flow of energies that make up this world, and the Multiverse."

Stephen closed his eyes, yet his mind did not clear. He was stuck on the word 'Multiverse' and he felt a pit in the bottom of his gut as his brain went into overdrive.

Flashes of being here, doing this, and meeting these people, all zipped through his mind. He saw many different versions of this single moment. Ones where he was explosive and in full denial of what was happening, to others where he sat quietly and asked far too many questions, and the more he asked, the less he knew. Then some of them showed images of himself where his hands were straight up gone, and more still where they had absolutely nothing wrong with them. The last one being what she had told him. All of them showed him doing great things with magic, things he had only ever seen on television.

Those variants of these events showed him what he could become, and gave him glimpses of what his world would be like.

He was terrified to say the least.

But then a sudden thought entered his mind.

Would this all have happened if he had chosen music over medicine?

His sister Donna had always enjoyed music. They used to play the guessing game he had played with Wong and his colleagues. Donna had happily played with him whenever he had asked, and she made it her mission to try to stump him whenever she could. She once told him he should be a guitarist, because he had long and thin fingers.

He never did, and instead, took up medicine when she died. He vowed to save every life that he could from then on.

Then the thought of all those he had turned away entered his mind and Stephen broke down, tears silently streaking down his face. He couldn't even do that, because he had become cocky and forgotten the reason why he even became a doctor in the first place. He became too self assured and bored. He wouldn't take a case, unless it was extremely baffling and new, or if it wasn't, it had to be a good paying job. He didn't do charity work, unless it was a challenge or fame was attached.

Stephen was about to open his eyes, when Yao hummed.

"Keep them closed, doctor. We're not finished, yet."

Stephen listened, and he tried his best not to let a sob break the silence of the room. He knew he looked pathetic, crying like a child in front of people he barely knew, but he didn't care at this point. If these people hadn't let him into their lives, he probably would have done something incredibly stupid.

The darkness he saw while his eyes were closed suddenly became a bright and multicolored array of lights. He could hear music playing, one of his favorite songs, Interstellar Overdrive, by Pink Floyd.

In an instant he was jolted forwards, with everything in his vision flying past him as he was moved through outer space. He zipped past nebulae and galaxies. He slowed down when he went by stars, planets, and moons, giving him just enough time to really get a good look. A large rocky belt of debris floated around him as he witnessed a supernova and an explosion of comets as a direct result.

All the bright colors against that vast black expanse filled his very soul with wonder and awe. He took in everything, feeling like this was only real in his dreams or the actual vastness of space.

The scenery changed again and he was suddenly flying back through space, going directly towards a certain blue and green planet. In the blink of an eye, he could now only see the surface of what he assumed was Earth as he was sent shooting towards Tibet and back into his body at the Kamar-Taj.

The landing was not graceful. He came into contact with his body, just like he would have if he had hit the ground from a twenty story fall, but all that physically happened, was him falling off of his chair to the floor. He landed on his ass with a loud thump and he gasped as his eyes opened. He had even more tears of emotion on his face and his beard were soaked, as was the collar of his ratty shirt and jacket.

"Please, Master Yao, teach me." He begged as he got to his knees while holding his hands in a silent prayer.

"And so it shall be done, Doctor Stephen Vincent Strange."

***

Note:

Hamir the Hermit was comic book Wong's father. We don't get a first name for Wong, but I thought it would be neat if he had his father's name. It's relevant to the next chapter. Let me know what you think.

First chapter and name of the fic is So Strange, by Polyphia.

Tags:

[tired-biscuit]

i think bakugou wouldn’t be all that vocal during sex, at least not in the beginning.

it’s more huffing and panting and deep grunts voiced through a tightly clenched jaw and gritted teeth when it comes to him. occasionally you’ll maybe get him to whisper a quiet fuck or shit into the small empty space where your mouths continuously meet, but that’s pretty much it.

instead, he allows his body to exhibit the pleasure he feels rather than his voice. he shows you how good you make him feel by the way his scarred, calloused hands run up and down your bare back when you’re riding him, taking him with a certain hot, wet ease that every salacious movement of your hips slamming against his own invokes.

by the way his warm lips press into the crook of your neck; teeth sinking into the tender sweet spot there, just deep enough for you to feel the nip of the bite. by the way he squeezes you so tight that you feel like your bones are going to crack because he sometimes forgets how strong he actually is. by the way he makes sure to kiss every inch of naked skin he can reach. by the way he drags his tongue over you to taste the sweat, and the way his fingers glide up the back of your neck, wishing to tangle into your hair but settling on your cheek instead.

and finally, he shows you how you make him feel by the way his longer limbs intertwine with yours when you’re done with the deed afterwards; laying there and basking in the afterglow while feeling completely and utterly spent.

he rolls over to squish you flat against the mattress with a raspy chuckle at some point and it’s like you can hear the i love you.

[anastasiabowe]

𝙎𝙃𝙊𝙒 𝙈𝙀 𝙃𝙊𝙒 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝙁𝙐𝘾𝙆 𝙃𝙀𝙍 𝘽𝘼𝘽𝙔 𝘿𝘼𝘿! — Your boyfriend’s baby mama keep trying to get him back, so you gotta show her how you fuck her baby dad..

Note: I do not condone ANY content that is sent to your partners ex.. but if it’s Choso, it’s Choso so enjoy! (Also isn’t proofread so Ntm)

Content Warnings: SWEARING, piv, unprotected sex, recording of intimacy, hair pulling, revenge on ex, sharing 18+ content, mention of Choso having a child (not in any 18+ moments.) , MINORS JUST GO AWAY thank you!

“Fuck me.” Choso cursed to himself. You were in the kitchen washing your breakfast dishes. You looked over your shoulder to see him rub his forehead in what seems to be stress.

“Everything alright?” You dried your hands on the towel, and made your way to him. You wrap your arms around him, letting his ease into your warm arms.

“Just my ex..” he looked up at you, showing his phone. They one thing you appreciated about him is how honest he is. He always shows you his phone, and it’s almost comforting to know he has nothing to hide from you.

You grabbed his phone, and he stared at your face as you read the messages.

Jenny

11:40am

J: “Been thinking about you lately Cho..”

C: “I haven’t. What do you want, Jenny? Is something wrong with Mani?”

J: “nah, just been missing you.. can I do that?”

C: “I’ve told you to only contact me if it’s about Mani. If it isn’t, I’m done talking to you.”

J: “Cho, please, I miss you, I miss your smile. Why can’t I ever see you again? Like we only see each other when you come to pick up mani or I drop him off.”

Seen

“I’m going to beat her ass.” You pushed his phone back into his hands, and made your way to the front door only for Choso to grab your wrist.

“What?”

“Who the fuck does she is calling you ‘Cho’ like that?”

“Well don’t go beating her ass, she’s with mani right now.”

“Well what else can I do, this the 7th fucking time she coming out with these messages.”

Choso looked around in thought until a smirk appeared on his face.

“I got an idea.”

-

-

-

“F-fuck!” Choso had both of your arms wrapped behind your back as he slammed his hips into your ass. He held your phone in his hand as he recorded you moaning out his name.

“Come on baby, who’s dick making you like this?”

“Y-yours!” You squealed when he readjusted, pushing the cold phone into your lower back, and stopping his movements. He soon picked up the pace again and it felt more than amazing.

Choso leaned on your back, bringing he camera around to face your messy face. Your head was half hurried in the comforter and your hands were gripping the sheets.

“Come on baby, we want to see your face!” Choso grabbed your hair, and you smiled as you stared into the camera, eyes threatening to roll back into your head.

“Good girl, doing so good for me.” Choso dropped the camera onto the bed, and swiftly turned you over, dick still inside.

“Gotta see your pretty face for real.” He picked up the camera and recorded how your cunt sucked him in every time he pulled out and pushed in.

The sight was more than unholy, it was obscene, but it only turned you on to know that this will be on your phone for you to see, and this would be the video showing how you fuck her baby dad.

You smiled at the thought of her thinking about the video everytime she even opens his contact.

“What’s got you so smiley?” Choso I’m assuming ended the video and tossed your phone next to your head. He then leaned in closer, chest to chest, and kissed your wet lips.

“Just thinking.” You giggled. He smiled, and deepened his thrusts. He pulled back, and brought your legs up into his shoulders. He then pounded harder into you, still having a smile of love and passion on his face.

“O-ooh Cho! S-shit slow down!” You cried as he kissed your ankle. Your stomach filled with butterfly’s as you felt your high coming quick.

“I’m gonna cum, Cho, I’m gonna cum!” He laughed, and leaned down to kiss you.

“Cum for me.” Those words made you let out a cry of pleasure as you came. Choso continued to rut and kiss you through it, and you couldn’t be more grateful.

“F-fuck baby, where d’you wan’ it?” Choso noted, waiting for your response.

“Inside!” You moaned, and Choso bit your ankle to stop himself from making any loud noises. He let out whimpers, and you smiled feeling him relax.

Choso quickly grabbed your phone, and swiped to the camera and pressed record. He slowly pulled out, and his cum mixed with yours flowed out.

Choso chuckled at the masterpiece you and him made.

“Look at that shit,” Choso scooped some of it up and pushed it back inside. “Keep it all in baby, tryna get you pregnant.”

Those words made your stomach flutter from the mere thought of having his kid. Everything about this was so filthy yet so thrilling, and you couldn’t wait to get that positive pregnancy test.

Choso then tossed your phone down onto a pile of clothes on the floor, and kissed you.

“You’d like that huh?” He pinched your side and you let out a laugh. He knew you’d like that very much.

-

-

-

You were sound asleep when Choso opened your phone and sent the video to himself. He then sent that video to Jenny, making sure she knows who he really wanted.

Not even 5 minutes later, Jenny sent a message that made Choso laugh a little to loud.

J: “You guys are so fucking disgusting, I hope you choke on your fucking ego. I don’t want to see your face ever again, you fucking cunt.”

What made that funny was he had to see her in not even 8 hours when he has to pick up his son from her house. This will be a fun exchange.

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

Kinktober (24)- Hair Pulling

Scarlet Witch X Reader 18+

Summary: Waking up in her variant's body, Wanda has one thought on her mind. Find her family. What happens when she discovers that in this reality she has a wife not a husband.

Warnings/Tags: Scarlet Witch, Dream walking, Fingering, Oral, Strap-Ons, Rough Sex, Light Angst

Kinktober Masterlist

Opening her eyes, the red slowly faded back to green while she took in her surroundings, the unfamiliar room catching her interest. Wanda noticed she was now in a bed, soft and gentle breaths coming from the person behind as she moved to sit up right. Her fingers didn’t hold the corruption of the darkhold in this variant, her fingertips free from the black and darkness that stained her hands. Magic still coursed through her body though, bringing a smile to her lips as she tried to get up.

A pair of arms wrapped around her middle, the witch now only noticing how she was in nothing, the only thing covering her body being the thin sheet that covered the bed. A pair of lips pressed a soft kiss at the base of her neck, travelling further up the skin till their teeth nibbled on her ear lobe, hands tightening their grip around her middle.

“Where do you think you’re going, love?” you rasped out at the shell of her ear, your bare front now flush against her back.

Wanda’s mind practically froze as you continued to press your lips against her skin, her body warming up at the feeling. Her variant was with a woman? Where was Vision? The boys? The darkhold-

“Come on love, I’m sure I could persuade you to stay,” you tease while moving your hand lower on her stomach, Wanda tensing at the touch, trying to ignore the heat building in between her legs. She was here to find her husband and twins, not to fuck whoever was currently in her bed.

“I have to go,” she mutters, turning around to see you, breath hitching slightly at the sight of you. You were the most beautiful woman she had ever seen; your body now being raked over by her green eyes that darkened with every second she looked at you, your hands cupping her jaw and angling her head to look into your eyes.

Maybe staying for a little bit wouldn't be such a bad thing.

“Do you?” you murmur, leaning forward slowly and claiming her lips. The kiss was intimate and passionate, something Wanda has craved to feel for so long. You moan when she kisses back hungrily, guiding you onto your back as you smile into the kiss, your fingers threading through her brunette locks and keeping her head close. “I think you could stay a little longer,” you mutter, her hands drifting down your body experimentally.

“I think I could too,” she whispers in response, her fingers now at your hip bone. Maybe it was wrong to enjoy the love and affection you were giving her, pretending for the moment that you were hers and not her variants. “What do you want, Detka?” the low rasp of her voice, accent delicately wrapping around her words making your eyes darken with lust.

“You,” the tone of your voice a breathy sigh as you let your head loll back against the soft mattress, Wanda busying herself with kissing your neck, teeth scraping the juncture of your neck sending a shiver down your spine. Your words make her groan against your skin, moving to kiss the top of your breasts while looking up at you, pure desire swirling in her eyes. “I need you to touch me,” your fingers softly scratch at her scalp, “Fuck me however you want to, just use me love.”

Your words awaken something primal in Wanda, moving up to crash her lips to yours, tongue sliding into your mouth and dominating it while her fingers swipe through your folds. Both of you moan at the feeling, her amazed at the abundance of arousal now coating her fingers while you moan at the way her fingers draw circles on your clit perfectly.

“Fuck,” you groan against her lips when she slides a long slender digit inside you, curling it perfectly against your velvety walls to have you squirming under her.

“You like that Detka?” she taunts, repeating the action and hitting the spots that make you see stars, pleasure clouding your mind. “Of course you do, you’re just a little slut for me, aren’t you?” A sinful noise escapes you as she increases the pace of her fingers, pumping them in and out of you brutally.

“Yes,” you sigh out, back arching when she slides another digit into you, stretching you out. Your hands move to her back, nails digging into the skin as she crawls down your body, littering it in open mouthed kisses until she reaches your core. Her hot breath fans over you, teasingly kissing around your thighs to have you whimpering under her. “Please,” she licks a stripe up your core, groaning at the taste of you, the addictive sounds pouring out of your mouth encouraging her as she continues to thrust her fingers into you, tongue now swirling around your clit, mouth occasionally sucking on it making you buck against her face. “Oh god Wanda,” your hands move to clutch the sheets next to you, knuckles bleeding white as she eats you out like she’s starved. “I’m going to come,” Wanda merely groans into your dripping core at your words, sending you over the edge as you scream her name, legs trembling around her head as you clamp your thighs around her, rutting against her face to ride your orgasm out.

“Detka,” she moans out when you release her, your arousal now coating the lower part of her face as she moves away from your core. Her eyes gaze down at you, her want and need for you not fulfilled yet. “Turn over,” her voice dropping an octave, you instantly rolling onto your stomach and moaning as you feel a strap on pressing into your ass. You look back to see her magic fading around the conjured-up toy, her kneeling behind you as she teases the tip at your entrance.

“Are you going to take this like a good girl?” she husks out, pushing her hips into you making an unabashed moan reverberate around the room from you. The feeling of the false cock hitting even deeper inside you, Wanda pounding into you from behind makes your brain cloud with the thought of her. One of her hands goes to your hair, bunching it into a makeshift ponytail and pulling on your hair, your head craning back as her hips snap into you.

“Yes, I’m your good girl,” you moan out, hands grasping at the sheets in front of you for support as she relentlessly thrusts into you. A grunt leaves her lips as she continues to snap her hips into you so hard the whole bed is shaking and smacking against the wall with each thrust. Your body writhes under hers as she drills into you with no mercy, desperate to make you numb with pleasure.

“Look at you stretched out and trembling around me,” she husks out between especially hard thrusts before looking down to see the toy being swallowed up by your needy cunt and groans at the sight. “Taking me so well.”

“Please,” you whimper out, Wanda never wanting to forget the way you sound when she’s fucking you like this. Her other hand moves to press her thumb firmly against your clit, your body squirming at her touch. She tugs on your hair again causing a lewd noise to be ripped from the back of your throat, her thumb never easing up from circling your clit. “Please can I come?” you whimper out, body buzzing with pleasure.

“Come for me,” she pants out, keeping up her pace of pounding into you mercilessly. A scream leaves your lips as you tense, pussy spasming around the toy as her name falls from your lips like a prayer, Wanda slowing down to help you with your aftershocks and not overstimulate you. “Good girl,” she murmurs, moving down to interlock her fingers with yours as she kisses along your back.

When you’re ready, she pulls out of you, magic dissipating the toy away and moving to cradle you in her arms, your face instinctively going to the crook of her neck.

“I love you,” you whisper, making the witch tense.

“I..” your finger moves to press against her lips to quieten her, not wanting her to say it back.

“Shush love,” You pull away from her neck to look her in the eyes, a hand cupping her jaw, “I don’t need you to say it back, I just want you to know I love you, in every universe.” Her brows furrow as she looks at you, tears forming in her eyes at the care and love in yours.

“How did you know?” she whispers, you just smiling softly at her before pressing your forehead to hers, letting her enjoy the intimate moment.

“My Wanda would never fuck me like that,” you tease, “She’s scared I’ll break, but it’s ok because I love the way she makes me feel. I love the way any of you make me feel.” You let her move to your neck, basking in the warmth there as tears threaten to spill, arms snaking around your middle and holding you as close as possible, desperate to feel anything but the pain of her reality.

[darknight3904]

𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦

𝘓𝘰𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘏𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵 𝘹 𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘷𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘓𝘰𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘧𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘰𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘺 𝘢 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘔𝘦𝘹𝘪𝘤𝘰. 𝘋𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘦𝘧𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘴, 𝘓𝘰𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘶𝘱𝘴. 𝘕𝘰𝘸, 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘓𝘢𝘶𝘳𝘢, 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘓𝘰𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯.

𝘛𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘥𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘓𝘰𝘨𝘢𝘯 (2017). 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘺. 𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘰𝘺𝘴 𝘰𝘳 𝘎𝘦𝘯 𝘝, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘝𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘢 𝘕𝘦𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘳 𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘦.

𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘝𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘦. 𝘕𝘰 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘦𝘴.

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 4.1𝘬

𝘚𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 / 𝘔𝘺 𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

Logan was always a mystery to you. His brooding nature and gruff voice reminded you of an old tomcat that used to live in the bushes of the school.

You remember the first time you met him, he had been smoking a cigar in his room unknowingly letting the smoke waft into your room across the hall. You had told him off, telling him he was a bad influence for the kids around him and he had shrugged you off and dismissed your worries for the youth.

"I don't see any kids around here right now."

"They're all over the place, Logan. This is a school."

Most of your relationship had been like that, friendly banter, the occasional fight over something stupid, but at the end of the day friends who could trust one another.

At some point, you had grown tired of your life at the school. Tired of teaching kids Geometry and running missions that grew staler each year. Eventually, you left, packed up your junky Chevy, and bid farewell to the aging Professor with a kiss on the cheek and a warm hug.

Logan hadn't said much to you that day. Only that you ought to stay, something about the team still needing you.

"Thought you hated being an X-Man, Logan."

"I'll hate it a lot less if you stick around."

You drove south and found yourself in rural Pennsylvania. Perhaps it wasn't entirely legal, taking up residence in some old cabin that time had forgotten. Not that it mattered much since three years after leaving the school, Logan showed up at your door, pounding on the wood of your front door like the world was ending. All it took was one look at the unconscious professor in the backseat of some car Logan must've stolen for you to start packing your bags.

Now, you were sitting in Mexico, sweating your ass off daily, hoping that Charles would be alright and not kill you and Caliban while Logan was at work.

"He's late."

"Yes, Caliban, I can read the clock you know." You sigh

Logan was getting slower by the day. When he had showed up at your door four years ago you had barely recognized him. Sure, he was has muscle-filled and imposing as ever, but his face and hair had changed so much. Wrinkles and scars filled his handsome face and there was more grey than brown hair on his face and head.

"I need you."

His words echoed in your mind even now, a year later.

"What if he-"

"He's fine. He's just slow." You sigh trying to focus on the book in your lap. Caliban was such a worry wart.

"He's not. And neither are you. Both of you, there's something wrong." Caliban said, motioning to your exposed arms where your veins were purple and swollen, making your skin look hideous, "We should go to a doctor. They can-"

"Can we not have twenty minutes of peace?! If Charles isn't driving me insane with his babbling about Taco Bell, it's you with all your questions." You groan, slamming the book in your lap shut, "I am fine."

Logan's grumpy attitude had rubbed off on you it seemed. You left Caliban and locked yourself in the little bathroom you all shared.

The pale-skinned mutant was right. Something was wrong. With you, with Logan. Logan's seemingly invincible healing was failing him. As for you, your entire body had been crisis-crossed with your veins appearing like horrible bruises on your skin. In some places, like your hands they were even raised, pulsing painfully at times. Your face had been spared so far. You guessed that was due to the slow aging process you had been given as a part of your mutation. It was only a matter of time before your face suffered though, you were sure of it.

Not that it mattered though. You had given up looking pretty months ago. After you got settled in Mexico, you found yourself plagued with thoughts of Logan. Never in your life had you found yourself attracted to him, sure you were aware that he was good-looking, everyone was. The older teen girls at the school in particular would often giggle and whisper when he'd enter the room, then again he was always wearing those boot-cut jeans that made his legs look fabulous. Yet you had always been immune to that pretty face, content with simple friendship.

The first month after you finally fell into a groove with Logan, Charles, and Caliban had been tough, but after that? It was like you were losing your mind. Logan was consuming your thoughts. Even when you were at work, cleaning some shitty local motel, you thought of him. Anything would remind you of him, from empty booze bottles in the motel trash cans to a forgotten leather jacket a guest left in the closet.

Even at night, you weren't safe from him invading your thoughts. Some nights you'd wish for him to be holding you close, big arms cuddling you, keeping you safe. Some nights were less family-friendly and you'd picture him on top of you, wringing multiple orgasms out of you while he grunted about how good you felt.

The result of those thoughts? Each day when he'd return from driving that damn limo, you'd wait at the door like a trained dog, happy and excited to see him. You'd try to get him to talk about his night, what clients he drove, which were the craziest, who was loudest. Other times you'd cook a nice meal for him with whatever was sitting in the janky fridge Caliban had gotten up and running. Every once in a while, he'd even lay his head in your lap on the couch and let you weave your hands through his graying hair.

It had gone like that for about three months until one day he snapped.

"Don't you ever shut your damn mouth? Fuck all you do is talk! Can't you see I'm tired!? I don't need you interrogating me every time I come back here!"

You had taken his words harder than you expected and before you knew it, your veins were bruising and rising. Your own powers were turning on you, just like his were.

You hadn't bothered trying to pursue anything more from Logan since that day. You didn't bother with your appearance in front of him, why should you? He wasn't interested in you after all. Not to mention if he wasn't interested in you before, why would be be when your own veins were making you look like Grimace from McDonald's.

Now, you primarily had short conversations with him. Usually, they were about Charles and what meds he needed, and how much they were going to cost. Occasionally, the two of you'd sit with a bottle of booze and reminiscence over what your lives once were, as X-Men.

The sound of tires screeching had you exiting the bathroom. He might've been an asshole but you still cared about him.

Logan slowly walked in, a bit of a limp in his step from some fight he had gotten in the other day. He went right for the fridge where cold beers sat, ignoring Caliban's squawking.

"Goin' away for a bit." He said as he slumped into a kitchen chair, looking at you

"Where?' You asked curiously

"Booked a long ride. When I get back we're buying the Sunseeker." Logan said

"Who's the ride for?" You asked, curious as to who would book the world's grumpiest driver for a cross-country road trip

"Some rich lady," Logan replied, sipping on his beer.

He was definitely lying. You wanted to get out of Mexico, perhaps it was better like this. Logan would get the remaining cash and you'd finally get out of here.

"Here." Logan said, tossing the pills for Charles on the table, "Don't let him miss any doses."

Logan shuffles towards you and stops when you look up at him. Tired eyes meet your own.

"I'll be gone a few days, just a few. Then we're leavin', bub" He whispers

You nod and decide to indulge yourself by gently resting your ugly-looking hands on his chest that's covered with a white dress shirt.

Your heart skips a beat when he presses a quick kiss to your forehead before walking off to put Charles to bed. Logan's never done that before, usually, he'd reject any physical contact from you, even back in the day he was never into physical touches.

You watch as the limo disappears down the road, carrying Logan off to whatever mystery client he had, if he even had one.

"He'll be back." Caliban's voice calls, trying to assure you

"I know." You sigh

"Don't you have work?" He asked as you lay down on the couch.

"Day off. My bitch of a boss doesn't want to pay to have more than one housekeeper at the motel each day." You say

"Cheap bastard," Caliban says, shaking his head

You let out a snort of laughter.

"You're telling me. The other day he told me to reuse the garbage bags in the rooms, just to dump the trash into the outside dumpster."

"They'll be roaches everywhere." Caliban laughs

"Can't wait to clean those up too." You sigh closing your eyes

The screeching of metal wakes you up from your dreamless sleep. You slowly sit up, groaning when your arm begins to tingle, it must've fallen asleep somehow.

"It's her, she's here!"

"Professor, back to the tank." You groan at the old man, not wanting to listen to his blabbing. The dementia got worse each day.

"It's Laura!" He exclaims

You huff and slump backward into the couch. You loved the Professor but he was exhausting sometimes.

You quickly stand up and stop him from wheeling himself outside. The sound of a car door slamming has a cold sweat running down your back. Logan was gone, who could be outside? Whoever it was you prayed they were weak, you weren't even sure that you could use your powers, let alone fight someone with them.

"Stay, put. If something goes wrong, get back to the tank and lock the door." You command

"Laura," Charles says again, listening to you and remaining still

You step out into the hot sun, not expecting Caliban to be standing next to Logan. A blonde man with a metal hand and aviator glasses stands and asks about Charles. You look at the newcomer, trying to figure out what his deal was. He was human, even with failing powers, you and Logan were stronger, did he have a death wish?

"Whoo, look at that. Not one X-Man but two? The Wolverine and....I'm sorry sweetie what was your name again?" The man suddenly smiles, looking at you.

"Get out of here, asshole," Logan says, placing a hand on the blonde man's chest, preventing him from taking another step towards you

"Tell me, sweetie, do you know where the girl is? Wolverine here seems to have misplaced her." He asks

"There's no girl here." You answer

A loud shout startles you and a metal pipe whizzes past you and Logan to strike the intruder on the head.

Laura is an interesting character. You watch from afar as she shoves cereal in her mouth.

"What the fuck is this?" You ask Logan who doesn't have an answer for you.

The rumble of the train goes by and Charles calms the girl who jumps from her seat.

"Look, we're leaving. That guy who she knocked out, he knows everything about us. Get your stuff together." Logan says, handing a bag to you

You groan but listen and scamper off to your room. Your "room" was really just a small double bed surrounded by sheets Logan had strung up on strings after you said you needed more privacy from him and Caliban.

You shove clothes into the bag along with a couple of dusty books to keep you busy on the road. As much as you'd like to, you doubted Logan was going to let you drive at all.

Logan's deep voice shouts your name and you dash out to the kitchen to see Laura eating her food, unbothered. Her eyes glance at the outside world where you can see Logan shoving Charles' wheelchair into the trunk.

"What's happening?" You ask frantically, dropping your bag into the dirt, forgetting its importance.

"Get in." Logan commands

You quickly jump into the passenger seat, shoving the empty bottles of Jack Daniels aside. You'll have to yell at Logan for that later on. Drinking himself into a hole wasn't going to help whatever was happening to him.

The blonde man must have to do with the amount of trucks that are surrounding you all. Logan curses as he tries to maneuver the limo out of the smelting plant. Much to your dismay, you're quickly surrounded with nowhere to go. Charles murmurs about Laura again as Logan tells him to shut up.

If it were twenty years ago, you'd be able to make a path. Your powers had never been pretty but they were effective. If only you were able to use them now on all these men who were exiting these vehicles, they'd be nothing but blood stains in the dirt. Head popping was never pretty but it was efficient.

The blonde man is back and shouting in Spanish. You wonder what has become of Caliban as you glance at Logan whose mind is certainly racing, trying to create an escape for you all.

"Hey there, Sweetie." The blonde says leaning his elbow on the windowsill and leaning into the car, "Charles Xavier, America's most wanted octogenarian."

"I'm a nonagenarian actually." Charles quips back, proud of his old age.

"Logan." You whisper looking at him.

You're certain you can still use some bit of your powers. If Logan could cut just one of these men open, you'd be able to carve a way out of this situation. It'd be painful but you could do it. Maybe.

Logan lets out a growl and shoves his door open into one brute who steps too close to the limo. You jump out of your own door, hot on his heels as the blonde man keeps his men from gunning you both down.

You let out a loud shout of Logan's name when the men begin to beat him. One man comes up from behind you and pins you arms behind your back, he's stronger than your weak body and slams you face-first onto the hood of the limo.

"Find the girl."

The men spread out as you struggle in his hold. Logan's pinned down by the threat of at least 6 guns aimed at his face.

"Careful, Williams. You're gonna break her nose." The blonde man says looking at the way your face is harshly pushed into the metal of the car

"She deserves it. Mutant freak." The man above you, Williams, scoffs spitting down at you

"This mutant freak controls blood, you idiot. I don't wanna find out what she can do with it, do you?"

Williams looks down at you and you feel his spit trickle down your temple. He loosens his hold and lets you stand up, keeping his gun pointed at you.

The sound of gunfire breaks the tense stare-down you were having and your jaw nearly drops when you see Laura approach, a man's head in her arms.

Your jaw does drop when two silver claws appear and she begins to cut down the men. Logan tackles you to the ground and keeps you safe from the rain of bullets two men send at you.

"Get in the back with Charles, stay down." He orders, gritting his teeth as you hear the bullets pushing their way out of his skin.

Laura's feral screaming fills your ears along with the sound of flesh being cut through. The metallic scent of blood fills your nose as Logan pushes you into the limo.

"Logan I can help!" You shout

His only response is slamming the door in your face.

The limo is surely a sight as Logan speeds down the road. Charles' voice fills the silence as he talks to Laura about the X-Men. You look at Logan who looks, if it's even possible, angrier than he normally does.

"If you want me to apologize, I'm not going to. So stop pouting like a kid." You say, looking down at your blood-stained hands.

"M' not pouting. And what you did was dangerous." Logan says

"And what you did wasn't? I'm not a delicate flower, Logan. I don't need you hovering to keep me safe." You huff

"Yeah well when your brain blows up from that blood manipulation of yours, don't come crying to me," Logan grumbles

"Please, when that happens I'll die. No way for me to complain then." You scoff

Logan shakes his head and keeps his gaze on the road.

You want to slap him for his attitude. That or kiss him, you really can't tell. The angry protector vibe he had going on was as aggravating as it was attractive.

He was mad for what? You had saved him from getting an AR-15 getting unloaded into his chest. Sure, now your head was throbbing from the effort it had taken to use your powers. It wasn't even your own blood you had used, just some from a man on the ground, fashioning it into a simple tendril and impaling Logan's assailant through the chest.

"They're not normally like this." Charles whispers to Laura, "They work very well together. Good friends, sometimes I think they're more than that.

You groan at Charles' words. Something tells you you and Logan were going to be fighting a lot more now that you were trapped in a beat-up limo together.

"Don't tell her that." Logan chastizes

"Tell her what?" Charles asks innocently

"Made up fantasy shit," Logan replies

The casino Logan picks is a buzz with noise. You haven't been around this many people in years. It had a cold sweat breaking out on your skin. You wondered what was going through Charles' mind as he suddenly reached for your hand for assurance.

"You'll be alright. " You whisper to the old man who nods

A mannequin catches Laura's eye and Charles points out their lack of clothes.

You can't quite tell what's going through Logan's mind as he sits beside you on a soft sofa, waiting for Laura to come out of the dressing room. You can tell he's still upset from earlier when you used your powers to help him. You decide to throw him a bone as he taps his right foot with impatience.

"Sorry." You mumble

"What?" He asks

"I'm sorry." You say again quietly

"I can't hear you," Logan says turning your face to look at his, most likely so he can read your lips. What an old man.

"I said I was sorry. For earlier." You say, louder this time.

Behind Logan, you can see Charles inch his chair closer, hoping to eavesdrop on you and Logan.

Logan lets out a deep sigh and shakes his head. Your heart leaps to your throat when you hear the next words

"Don't worry bout' it, bub."

His big hand drops to your thigh and gently pats it assuringly.

"I would've done the same for you."

You place your own hand onto his and gently squeeze. His eyes meet yours and you swear they jump to your lips for a split second. You watch mesmerized as his tongue quickly appears to wet his lips before disappearing back into his mouth.

"Listen-"

Laura emerging from the dressing room breaks the trance he has on you and you jump up, fully flustered.

"Oh very nice." Charles coos at the little girl who is now in a unicorn shirt.

"Let's go." Logan gruffly says, brushing past you and towards the cash register.

You follow on Logan's heels as he limps to stand in line behind a little old lady. Laura and Charles are attempting to win at a claw machine that sits in the store a few feet behind you. Did Charles not see that the prize was poker chips? Laura wouldn't be able to do anything with the prize if they won. Whispers distract you from stopping the old man as he inserts money into the machine. Where did he even get the cash?

You glance to your right where three women stand. They're stylish, sleek, and vixenish with their tall heels, bodycon dresses, and sharp-winged eyeliner. You follow their pointed gaze to your own body and realize what they're giggling at. Your bruised arms, something you hadn't worried too much about before were drawing attention.

It wasn't just the women either, an older couple on your left are whispering as well.

"Oh my, what's happened to her?"

You feel a scowl pulling on your face, chasing away the good feeling Logan had left you with back in the dressing room.

You stomp over to a clothing rack filled with oversized hoodies. You snatch one off the hangers and walk back to Logan and shove it in his arms. He stumbles back a bit, not expecting you to be so harsh.

"I want this too." You demand before spinning on your heel to go find the nearest restroom.

Splashing cold water on your face is a luxury you had forgotten. Back in Mexico, the water in the pipes was always just a bit warm. Great for showers, but shitty for everything else.

You emerge from the bathroom to find your companions waiting for you. Logan tosses you your sweatshirt that stupidly says " I survived Oklahoma City Casino!".

If only you had picked out a plain one.

Logan hands you a key card to one room and then goes to open his own.

"Got a conjoining bathroom." He explains, "You and Laura can share that one."

You push the door open and are welcomed by the sight of an oversized king bed.

Laura immediately goes to the bathroom to open the doors that connect you to the Professor and Logan.

"Sit. Watch TV."

You hear Logan's stern voice speak to her. You can imagine his face as he says it. Stern, unmoving.

Logan limps into your room, shutting the bathroom door and sitting on the bed you're to share with the slightly feral child you've picked up.

Silence falls over you as you pretend to observe the ugly painting on the wall. You strained your ears trying to hear the TV next door. They'd done a good job soundproofing the rooms.

"What's wrong?" He huffs

"Nothing." You say, crossing the room to flop down on the big bed

"You've had a pissy look on your face since we left the dressing room." He points out, "More pissy than usual."

You roll your eyes but he can't see it since you've buried your face in the soft pillows.

You can tell Logan is still there, waiting for you to speak. You've got the feeling he's not going to leave you alone either, stubbornness was always a strong suit of his.

You flip yourself around and prop your head up on a pillow to look at him.

"Those women in the dresses and heels, they pissed me off." You admit

"What women?" Logan asks his face screwing up as he tries to recall who you were talking about, "There weren't any women."

"The one's in the tight dresses and heels." You say looking at him, not believing he hadn't noticed

Logan shakes his head again.

"It's my arms." You sigh, "I got comfortable in Mexico, you and Caliban never said anything about them. Not to mention Charles doesn't seem to care either."

You fiddle with a stray string that sticks out of the sleeve of your new sweatshirt. Machine-made stitching was always poor quality.

"I don't know what women you were seeing," Logan says, suddenly scooting up the bed and laying down beside you, "But I don't give a shit about what your arms look like."

"It's not just my arms, Logan." You softly breathe, thinking of the rest of you, marked with ugly bruises.

"Doesn't matter to me." He sighs with a wave of his hand

You feel tears pricking at your waterline and you willed them away. There wasn't even a reason to cry. He was just being nice, being a good friend.

"Are you crying?" Logan asks

"No." You lie

A warm tear slips down the side of your face and then all of a sudden they won't stop. You turn on your side and curl up into a fetal position. Maybe Logan will leave you alone now, he never liked dealing with his own feelings, let alone another person.

"Hey." He says, "Quit blubbering like some baby."

You're surprised when he suddenly scoops you up and places you in his lap. Big hands wipe at your tears and he hands you a tissue from the nightstand for your nose.

"Sorry." You sigh taking a deep breath to calm your nerves

Logan lets out a deep grunt and he lets his actions do his talking. One big hand rubs up and down your back to soothe you while the other is drawing circles on your knee.

"You shouldn't get so worked up about random people. Before you know it we'll be out on the Sunseeker, fishing and eating crab for dinner." Logan says

"Promise?" You ask

"Promise."

Part Two

[comatosebunny09]

the quiet game [ snip ] | sylus

‘i need you’

It’s a simple text, yet it blares through the mire that his room’s sunken into. Has him sitting up in his bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and pushing his hair back, and the sheet’s soft as it glides down his bare torso to puddle around his waist.

His thumb hovers over your message. Quivers and twitches. He doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath or counting his heartbeats until he blinks, waiting for you to finish. Watching those telltale bubbles appear and disappear as you struggle to form more words—more context.

But you don’t.

And it isn’t normal for you to be so brief—so cryptic. Which could mean one of two things: you’re genuinely in peril or playing a sick, cruel joke on him.

He opts for the former, used to these phases you occasionally lapse into. Where your messages lack their usual luster. He can feel the dark undertones of your words curling around him through the screen. And something cold sinks into his belly, its talons clawing at his heart.

You need him.

He’s on his feet without thinking. Pouring himself into his jeans, shrugging into a shirt, tugging his boots on. Moving with a sense of purpose through the quieted halls of his mansion, stopping only to grab his leather jacket from the coat rack and to shove his motorcycle keys into his pocket.

The underground garage swallows him whole, and the shadows of the basement dance across his features, hanging between the set of his jaws and the glabellar lines forming between his brows.

Luke and Kieran peer curiously from an alcove after Sylus’ exit. Fix each other with comically perturbed looks. Even beneath the veil of their masks, they read each other’s expressions, and they shrug.

Whatever’s got their boss on edge is none of their concern—yet. He’ll call them if he needs backup.

They’re sure of it.

[good-griief]

losing game pt. 1

HEYYYY i'm actually back with a lil smutty angsty ellie fic bc i needed to write for this woman... anyway here's part one its only a lil angsty i just wanted an excuse to write rly gay smut so enjoy and p2 tmrw!!

as most of yall know any reader i write (as a poc writer) has no race, i just wanted to use a picture of taylor momsen bc i love tpr and that's definitely the vibe of the music in this fic

part two part three

read me click me

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Being in the rock scene was your dream. You started with small gigs, then small venues and festivals, and now you had a band to go along with your music. Your career was kicking off and it felt like heaven; every performance, every song, all the adrenaline made for some of the best nights of your life. 

When you picked your band, you hand-selected each member, and to say you picked your guitarist for any reason other than how pretty she was would be a lie. Yes, she was amazing, but you also couldn’t speak when she walked in for her interview. She just smiled, laughing at the way you stared at her before your manager started talking for you. He often did, she came to realize. 

She still accepted the moment you offered her the position, but she made it clear that she didn’t like your manager. She accepted for you; to be with you.

And she slowly became your favorite part of performing. You had this way of connecting with each other — of course, you were close with all of your band members, but she was different. You’d spend time together one-on-one, smoking a joint and talking about nothing until one of you had to force yourself to go. You’d get coffee together, have dinners, and even spend the night at each other’s apartments. Whenever someone asked about you two, you said you were best friends. Even when she was waiting for you at the end of the carpet, and you both laughed at your answer like it was some kind of inside joke. 

Even when you were onstage, on your knees, singing your most sensual song to her as she melted to your level, smirking as her hips thrust against the electric guitar. Sometimes, she even sang with you. You’d hold her face, or thread your fingers through her hair as you held eye contact or rested your forehead against hers with shut eyes, and if there was a break in the song you’d kiss her hard — a stage kiss that the crowd would erupt in cheers over. But they happened offstage, too… after a shared joint or during a party. Nothing more.

She’d let you place your fingers on the strings of her guitar to find the chords as you stood behind her, her head leaning back on your shoulder in a way that showed the muscles on her neck as she breathed in heavy, hot breaths. She let you wrap your hand around her throat, groaning in your ear as fans caught pictures of you dragging your tongue over her sweat-ridden jaw or biting her shoulder as she grinned. 

There was one night you let her take over the mic as you danced along. She played her guitar, singing and watching you until you sang with her. Your hands drifted down her thighs as you kneeled behind her, the crowd screaming as you lifted her shirt and came around to kiss the line of hair below her belly button. She smirked, stopping her playing and fisting your hair to pull your head back as you laughed. 

Nights when you’d take off your shirt, tossing it into the audience and pouring your water on yourself before she came to lick it up, tongue dragging over top of your breasts as you sang breathlessly. There were times she had to wrap her arm around your back to keep you standing when she did that, the action so intimate, so arousing, that it was hard to remember why you were on stage and not in your dressing room, alone with her. Some nights she’d take her shirt off and give it to you if she didn’t want anyone else to see you, smiling at you with her shirt on before you came over to kiss her cheek. 

There were moments with other band members, but none of them were like her. They didn’t make you feel the same — none of them were her. 

So, when the end of her contract came up and she talked to you about leaving to pursue other things, you were devastated. You didn’t think she’d leave, but after a talk with your manager, her decision was set. 

“I think you should,” you told her anyway. “Whatever makes you happy, Els, seriously. I’ll support whatever you do.” She smiled, taking your hand to kiss. On the inside of her fingers, and yours, you could see the matching tattoos you got months ago, threading your fingers together so they match up. 

You dedicated your last show with her to her. It was a surprise, and she cried when you said it in the beginning, but she just turned away to shake it off quickly. At least, she did until you started crying during a song you wrote for her — it was another surprise from you and the rest of the band, but the minute she saw you crying she couldn’t keep it together. She came over to hug you, kissing the top of your head as she let you hide your face in her chest. The crowd awed, but Ellie took the mic to say you’d be back. She set it down and lifted your head to make you look at her. “I love you, pretty girl,” she said, away from the microphone so no one heard her, but they could sound it out if they wanted to. “Please don’t cry.” She wiped beneath your eyes, ignoring the camera flashes and screams from the crowd. “I hate that I can’t do anything about it right now.”

You smiled. “I’m gonna miss you so much.” 

She laughed at you. “It’s not like I’m going anywhere.” She nodded to the microphone. “Finish my song, I wanna hear the rest.”

“You’re an idiot,” you said, now standing at the mic and making the audience laugh. 

You were such an idiot. 

She never told you what other things she wanted to pursue, but you should’ve known. 

Of-fucking-course she was pursuing her own music. Of-fucking-course she was starting her own band. With yours. Of-fucking-course all of their contracts ending over the course of a few months would amount to this. Of-fucking-course each last show you dedicated to them meant nothing. 

You couldn’t even be mad. It was smart. But you were beyond hurt. 

And she still dedicated her first show to you. She texted you herself, asking you to come. 

When would you learn your lesson?

“I just want to thank you guys for coming,” she said to an audience of mostly your fans. “You might know me — us — from a backup band, but we got a little tired of being backup, didn’t we?” The band laughed. “So, uh, my name’s Ellie if you don’t know… probably don’t,” she laughed as if you’d never thanked or introduced your band before. “And I just want to dedicate this show to the previous artist I worked with. I wouldn’t be here without her, so she means… a lot,” she said it so fucking snarky, “to me, and… I have a few songs for her… if you all wanna guess which ones they are.”

And her first song was the biggest Fuck You song you’d ever heard. 

Still, she texted you after the show. 

She didn’t ask you to come to another show, and maybe that was because you announced a break from music, or because she was getting so much attention that she didn’t care. You saw her at award shows sometimes, and she would cheer when you won. Of course, you’d cheer for her too, but it never went beyond that. Almost like it was an unspoken rule that you weren’t on speaking terms. 

But the minute you came back to the scene, almost a year later, she texted you for the first time since her first show. 

You didn’t reply at first. You hadn’t kept up with her at all during your break, your manager telling you to stay away from any of her and her band's promotions and interviews. He had you block all of them and their numbers, but you couldn’t bring yourself to block Ellie’s. And you were glad you didn’t. Usually, you didn’t have your phone on you until late at night, your manager having your assistant handle your messages and social media, but you were about to fall asleep when she texted. As if she remembered your schedule. 

And it prompted you to look her up. Then her and you, and you could see countless videos. 

every time ellie has mentioned “her” compilation was what you decided to click on. It was made by an account that was clearly a big fan of hers, so you readied yourself for any hate that’d be thrown your way. 

The first clip was an interview, asking her why she split from your team. “You know, I really loved her and her team,” she said, “still really love her. It’s just hard being reminded, constantly, that you're a stepping stone and your time is running low, you know? We might’ve held her back if we stayed, and she was moving on to better things,” it sounded like she was quoting someone else. “—I mean, she always wanted us to shine, and I’m so grateful for her. I really miss being on stage with her, but I don’t miss anything else besides her and I think that says a lot.” 

Another was on her way into a hotel, a reporter asking if you congratulated her on an award. You could remember seeing her at the show before your manager called you over just as she was walking your way. She laughed, “haven’t talked to her in months.” 

Another of a sit-down interview with the whole band, your name being brought up and Ellie snapping at them, “You know I really wish people would stop asking me about her.” She got choked up as the others answered, nose reddening when the question finally circled back to her. “We’re not friends, we don’t talk, she doesn’t want anything to do with us, so...” She shrugged, pissed off. 

The next was another interview. It seemed she was just having to get used to being asked about you. “I’ve tried to reach out,” she said, “maybe she changed her number.” 

Another. “She was my best friend, I miss her a lot. I hope she’s doing okay.” 

And another, asking about her songs. “Yeah, I wrote a lot about her — No, I don’t regret it. I feel like it reflects a moment in time, you know? It was a really nice moment — I mean, I still have our matching tattoos,” she laughed, showing the tattoos on the insides of her fingers. 

Another, after a show. She was always emotional after shows, and it made it harder to watch as she wiped her eyes when the interviewer asked what your relationship really was. “I don’t fucking know,” was her answer before she walked away. 

Some of them were sweet, memories you shared that made you laugh. Others made you sick with guilt, like when she mentioned your lack of response or you blocking the band. Some just made you sad. And you felt like an idiot for doing this, but after reading the comments, some defending you for not running your socials or phone, or angry with you for the same reason, you played a compilation of the two of you together from the same account. 

Then you called Ellie. 

It rang once before sending you to voicemail and you just hung up. You kept your attention on the video to distract yourself from how much that stung. 

But she called right back. 

You stared at the phone for a moment, seeing the contact poster of the two of you at her last show with you lighting up your screen and feeling your words get caught in your throat as your eyes stung. You grabbed the phone, answering quickly. “Ellie?” It was silent, “Ellie, I just wanted to say, I had no idea… I understand if you never want to talk to me again, but I—“ You cleared your throat, trying not to sound like you were about to cry. “I’m really sorry.”

“I thought — I didn’t think you were going to — It feels so good to hear your voice,” was what she settled on after stammering through a few sentences. “You have no idea how much I’ve, just, wanted to talk to you…”

You bit down on your lip as you listened to her. She didn’t sound angry, but she clearly had so much to say to you. Her voice was filled with feeling as she went on, trying to get everything out as if she thought you’d hang up the phone at any minute. You just listened, shutting your eyes and bringing your hand over your face as hot tears spilled down your cheeks. You couldn’t bring yourself to understand why you were so emotional, maybe it was the fact that you misunderstood her so easily, or that your manager had ruined your relationship with her, or maybe it was even that you were just getting to hear her talk after so long, but she paused the moment she heard you trying to calm your breathing. 

“Please don’t cry.” She already knew. “I hate it when you cry and I can’t do anything about it.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled. “Keep talking. What were you saying?” You looked at your computer, auto-playing something else of the two of you. It was clips of you on stage and during interviews, heads on each other's shoulders, hugging, kissing each other’s cheeks, singing together. You pursed your lips, tears coming quicker as you slammed your laptop closed. “Ellie,” you cut her off, biting at your lip as you looked at the empty spot on your bed she used to take some nights, “what are you doing right now?” 

“I’m on my way,” she said quietly, and you could hear her shuffling on the other line. She was probably getting ready to go to sleep, and wake up to no response just like every other time she messaged you. And you would have woken up with no idea she even texted you. “Do you want me to stay on the phone?”

“If you’re already headed to sleep—“

“I’m coming over,” she said. “I’m already in the car, I’ll be there in ten, okay?”

“Okay…” Now you felt bad for making her leave her house, looking outside at the snowfall and sniffling as you tried to wipe your eyes. “I’ll see you soon.” You hung up the phone and groaned at yourself, shoving your head in your pillow. 

You opened your laptop, typing in the song names people speculated she wrote for you and queuing them all. Not one was the one you heard during her first show, and it made you feel even worse by the time the doorbell rang. You moved off of your bed, wiping your eyes and going to the door to buzz her up to your apartment. 

You waited by the door, balls of your feet kicking at the floor as you crossed your arms and waited for her to knock. It was the same rhythm she used to knock in, and where it usually made you smile, it made you cry more. God, you missed her, and you didn’t even realize how much until now. You took too long to open the door and you heard the lock click. She still had her set of keys, and that made you feel worse, too. She’d probably texted you about returning them, and you never got to see it. Nothing was making you feel better as she opened the door, and seeing her face just made it worse. 

“God,” she muttered, immediately bringing her arms around your waist. She tucked her head into your shoulder, shutting her eyes as your arms went around her shoulders. Her hands held you like you’d disappear the minute she let go, thumbs running soothingly back and forth over your shirt. “I missed you so much,” she said. “They all wanted me to get over it, but I knew there was no way — I knew we had something more than just — fuck, I know you better than they do. I know I do.” Her lips brushed your skin with every word. “I missed you so fucking much,” she repeated, hugging you tighter. 

Just her touch made your tears slow to a stop, relaxing into her hold and hugging her so tight, but she didn’t care. She was happy to be back in your arms. Your hand drifted to her hair, cradling her head to your shoulder. You could remember the nights you spent playing with her hair until you fell asleep and the thought made you run your fingers through it. She sighed, pulling her head back but refusing to let you go. 

There was a silence as you moved her hair out of her face, tucking the strands behind her ear. Slowly, your hand cupped her cold, flushed cheek. She leaned into your touch, eyes falling to your lips as your thumb stroked her cheek. 

“Ellie,” you muttered and she hummed, turning her head to kiss the inside of your palm. “I missed you, too,” was all you chose to say despite the wanting in the way you said her name. Her hand took yours as she kissed the inside of your wrist. “So much…” Her kisses trailed up your arm, with more of a meaning behind them than any of the kisses you’d given each other before. 

You moved your hand back to her face, turning her head toward you. She met your eyes, hers shining in the low light. They fell to your lips again and she leaned in, kissing your cheek. She kissed away every tear stain, still wet and warm. She moved closer and closer to your mouth, but never kissed you, kissing away the stains on your other cheek instead. 

Then you turned your head, catching her lips for a brief moment before she pulled back. There was a moment of hesitation, neither of you able to speak before she pressed her lips to yours. They were still cold from being out in the snow, but they warmed as you kissed her back, pressing your body impossibly closer to hers as she sighed into your mouth. She couldn’t tell you how long she had wanted this, but she knew it was long enough that her waiting for you was pathetic.

[kaeyeahsworld]

The Right Choice

content warning: mild abusive relationship, thoughts of cheating (but none actually) scumbag ex, mild violence, regret, big dick toji, eating out, female reader, fingering, orgasm, 18+, angst bcs I love writing it.

A/N: another tattoo artist Toji brain rot. Not proof read or edited pls don’t come after me, come after or for toji which ever works for u :D

It had been an entire year of your scumbag boyfriend setting up his own tattoo parlour right along side Toji’s.

Although in the initial days, your boyfriend’s place had done better compared to Toji’s simply because he was loud and obnoxious enough about his work, but when ultimately it came to finesse in the art Toji remained undefeated.

Toji’s calm but awkward manner with the clients made him an instant favourite in stark contrast to your boyfriend who only cared about the bucks.

With the tattoo parlours being almost beside each other, you often bumped into him. The first few times were just awkward but prolonged eye contacts, that went ahead to subtle smiles and Toji’s crinkling eyes, which at last proceeded to an awkward conversation.

“I see you around a lot. You work here?” He somehow mustered up the courage to ask you that, praying to the saints he hadn’t come off as creepy or overbearing.

Toji could never forget the first time he had laid his eyes upon you. It was late in the night while he was closing down, when he heard some voracious laughter coming off from Zack’s parlour. On the usual, he wouldn’t give two fucks if someone was even dying on Zack’s side but when curiosity got the best of him, he turned around and glimpsed at the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life.

Only for the rose coloured glass to be broken when he got to know that you were dating Zack. The most narcissistic piece of douche Toji had ever come across.

He initially thought you might have been the same and somehow kept convincing himself to keep away, but none of that worked when you guys had started conversing.

You had met Zack at a concert and not knowing better started dating him and the year since then had been..well, bleak to say the least.

Zack was beyond your comprehension. He was everything you wished you were- loud, confident but the more you came closer to his world, the more distant you felt from him. The Zack that doted on you in the beginning and made out sloppily with this stinky breath was nowhere to be found these days. The Zack that was all up for late night video calls was now the same one who would leave you on delivered for 24 hours straight. Or should you say a different one. Still, you were a stubborn little one. Refusing to accept the reality of the situation.

To the add to the whole thing, was the guilt that was brought upon by your little crush on Toji. You would never cheat on your guy, but god Toji felt like he was everything you deserved and more.

His intense lingering gazes, his soft smiles, his gentle demeanour but the strength that had come with it. It gave you all the right shivers.

Ironically, the first time you guys spoke to each other was when you were trying to escape your boyfriend who was fighting with a customer about the design, when you had accidentally bumped into Toji.

Noticing the inked beauty peaking out on his forearm, you immediately realised that this was your favourite artists design.

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah” Toji looked at you, trying to not let his heart eyes show,

“Is your tattoo Miyazaki’s work?” This question genuinely surprised Toji and gosh he prayed to the heavens to warn him if this is the part where he falls head over heels for you.

“Ya know him?”

“OF COURSE I DO??” You had screamed and almost pounced on his arm to admire the man’s work.

Toji had wondered then how your eyes would light up if you got to know he had trained under the said artist.

Fast forward past a few more of “accidental” bumps into each other, and some lighthearted conversations about everything and nothing under the sun, in a few moments and both of you could sense the undeniable attraction you had felt towards each other.

But neither of you ever crossed the line. You were a woman, taken, and he was a man who respected your choices no matter how strange or..shitty.

You couldn’t help but notice how different Toji was around you and when you were together with Zack.

The kind demeanour he held was immediately replaced by indifference whenever he would see you with your boyfriend who would pass on a snarky reply just to irk the said man.

Toji could easily give Zack 2 broken legs with how big he was, but one look into your doe eyes and he couldn’t even bring himself to look in your direction except throwing a finger off to the other guy.

But nothing could keep you away from each other especially during those lonely wistful nights.

You lying in your bed with your fuck ass boyfriend wasted somewhere, fingers plunging deep into your warm cunt and a heart full of regret, guilt and most of it all, lust for Toji. Nights that went away calling out his name in small whispers imagining his large hands that would envelope you and touch in all the right ways nobody ever could. Making you see stars and kissing you through the bliss.

Toji was no better. Stroking his cock in anguish, lusting after you like a beast in heat. Your plump lips, your sexy fucking hips that he would dip kisses all over, if you were his, your luscious skin that he would worship and mark, you were going to be the death of him.

But when the nights slipped away and dawn broke and as in when in you guys bumped into each other, it was the same all over. Hidden glances and lazy longing that would never translate into something more.

Until it had.

You shouldn’t have come to the parlour today. Things had been rocky between you and Zack for a few weeks now.

He had been smoking up all the money and refusing to take even the simplest of clients just out of sheer audacity and worst of all, paid no heed to your words more than ever.

Going to the parlour, at 2 am in the night after getting a call about the ruckus your boyfriend had caused and setting the damn curtains on fire, you immediately ran over only to come across the most drunk and high Zack had ever been, amidst scattered flames.

You knew from your experience to be better than to be around him when he intoxicated but the situation at hand was not helping. If only you hadn’t invested money out of blind stupidity into his tattoo parlour, maybe you would have been spared this ordeal today.

“Drag this bastard away miss OR we are gonna call the cops on y’all” said a stranger trying to control him.

“I’m so sorry about this”

“WHO…THE FUCK..lem..me gooo you little..bitch..”

“Baby listen to me, you aren’t in the right mind let’s get out of here..”

Zack had always been rough with you but never violent but it seemed like that was about to change tonight, when he grabbed you by your shirt collar and harshly dragged you towards him.

”ZACK! LET..ME GO!”

“Fuck youu..you” but before he could bring his face towards you, came a dangerous hit that probably bore into the drunkard’s skull.

“Hands away you sick fuck.” said the seething voice.

It was Toji. More than the pain, all you could think about was the relief that had washed over you on seeing Toji’ eyes that were ablaze with fury.

Before you could even say anything, he grabbed your wrist towards his motorbike and plopping helmets on both of you, drove away to your address.

He drove like the man he was at the moment- fast, angry and menacing. You clutched onto his waist for you dear life and that was the only thing, that calmed Toji a little bit.

You were here, he was here with you and you were safe and that was all he needed.

But in the half an hour that he drove both of you in utter silence, the events of the night slowly came crashing back to you.

Longing that turned into regret and that had now taken its ugly form of shame. Shame for who you were and who you had chosen to be with.

Sensing your hasty breaths on his back, Toji slowly parked his bike near the sea shore.

Even with unbearable longing like his, Toji had made it a point to never touch you. He would only do that when you were his completely mind, body and soul.

Tonight was the first time and he didn’t like it. You couldn’t even bring yourself to face Toji and when he slowly grabbed your chin to look at him, the sight before him tore his heart apart.

Tears welled up in your eyes and dripped down your soft cheeks like pearls, if Toji was a god he would be raging a war by now. But he was a mere mortal and all he could do was engulf you into him. Arms all around, caging you and protecting you, while you stained his jacket with your sobbing.

After the night had passed and somehow returning to your apartment with his help, you didn’t leave the confines of it for almost 2 weeks. Except for the occasional knocks from the said man or a get well soon bouquet, he had not spoken a word more to you, just as you hadn’t.

Both of you knew it was your decision in the end.

Almost as a sign, you got the news from your friends that Zack had ran away the same night as the police tried to catch a hold of him. Nobody knew where to and neither of them cared enough to find out.

The last checkpoint was having a conversation with Toji.

As you slowly approached his parlour, the ever so familiar but distant end of the tattoo street, one end of which was burnt ashes and the other end bustling with less customers compared to the usual, you awkwardly knocked on the clean glass door.

“Here inside” said Toji’s low baritone from the room within, as you noticed him deeply zoned in into his work on an old man and mistaking you for a customer.

You decided to wait outside in the waiting hall. It felt only right. It was only right to apologise for whatever had happened.

He had waited for you so patiently always, a steady wall that you had come to lean on unknowingly through the past few months and he never once asked anything in return. You loved him and you would wait for him just as long.

After being done and billing up the customer half an hour later, Toji peeked into the waiting hall to see who had checked in while he was working when his heart raced at the sight.

Here you were, in a soft white dress that had flown gently till your knees and straps falling agonisingly over your shoulder, looking like the sweetest angel and not to forget, with a small flower in hand. A delicate little rose and upon seeing Toji in all his black top and pants glory your heart welled up just as much as.

“Toji…I didn’t want to disturb you..so”

“You should have. You can always disturb me you know that right?”

He wanted to hug her. Touch her face, kiss her locks and smooch her lips. His restraint was a tight string waiting to break.

“Why are you here, Y/N?” His voice came off tighter than usual. With tears in your eyes and slowly offering him the small flower you found on your way here, you asked him

“Toji, can I get a tattoo?”

This took him by surprise. He didn’t know what he was expecting but tattooing you was definitely last on his list. Heaving a sigh, he gently took your fingers and the flower and moved you into the room with all his equipment.

Nobody had given him flowers before. The simple gesture had set in an ache for your being that he couldn’t ever define even if he wanted to.

If you wanted to do it his way, so be it.

“Where do you want your tattoo miss? Based on that I can tell you how painful—“

“My lower back”

“What—“ before he could even say anything, you were stripping down from your dress, locking the door while Toji’s mind was reeling.

2 weeks you had disappeared and now you were here in front of him , half naked.

“You favourite work of Miyazaki. Can you ink it on me Toji?” Of course he would. He could never say no to you. Not when you looked so sweet, sitting right in his chair looking up at him with heart eyes. Legs on display all for him. In nothing but soft lace panties.

“Fuck…darling, what are you doing to me..” he said as he slowly grabbed a delicate stencil of one of his favourite art, a pattern of the moon, the cherry blossoms and a ripple through it all.

Toji was an excellent artist but he never had to work with a raging boner before. His pants were bursting to the sight in front of him, you in a relaxed state ready to be marked. Almost a dream.

“Are you sure baby?”

“Yes. But one thing before that.”

“Hm?”

“Can you kiss me Toji?”

That was the last straw and before you could even say anything, Toji was at your lips, grabbing you by the back of your head and devouring you. You deserved slow and gentle and Toji swore to himself he would take all his time with you, but not at this moment.

Months worth of pent up lust and more so, love and the result of it, was kisses that took your breath away. Nipping away at your lower lip gently, as you opened your mouth he plunged his warm tongue into you, making you moan in ecstacy.

“Hmpph— To..jii..hm!” “Gosh baby do you know how many times I have dreamt of doing this to you huh? Your luscious fucking lips that you keep tinting up with that gloss..fuck..”

Littering kisses all around your neck, under your ears, licking across your collar bones, your whimpers were honey to his ears. Slowly wrapping your hands around his nape, you whispered to his lips

“Take me Toji. Make me yours, please.”

That was all you had to say.

Kissing you harder than ever, Toji grabbed your waist. “Turned around for me baby. Let me take care of you” with your back arching and on all fours on his chair, he ripped at your panties. You were a dripping mess and Toji was so close to coming in his pants like a fucking teenager.

“Toji..wait…it’s messy down there..stop—“

“Tell me girl. Did that fucker ever eat you out?” He asked venomously, slowly slipping in a finger into your sopping hole

“No-ughmm!!- he said it was too dir..ty..” his finger was so different from yours. Long and thick. If a finger alone was so delicious, you were sure you woud go crazy once his cock was in you.

“Proved himself to be a fucking moron once again. Well, you are all mine now. So let me treat your delicious cunt the right way baby yea?”

“Hmm—ahh!!” Dipping his face into your wet folds and antogonizingly licking up along them, eating you out from the back was Toji’s personal heaven. His nose bumping right into your sensitive clit and making you wetter by the second and now 2 of his fingers in your cunt, prodding you in all the right places sending shudders down your spine.

“Ride my face baby. Find your rhythm and make yourself feel good” Toji said and as he literally sucked and slurped at your folds and clit like a man starved. Spitting and licking and slightly pinching on your clit, in a few minutes, you were seeing stars that would normally take you so long.

“I’m cominggg Toji—!!!” Crying out and slumping over the chair.

Toji couldn’t get enough of you though. Marking you all over your back, letting red bruises blossom like petals, leaving you a sputtering mess.

He needed more. He needed you to cry his name out. Turning you around, he latched his lips onto your breast this time with a finger brushing on your clit lightly.

The wet muscle languidly brushing over your sensitive buds, teasing and biting and soothing it up again, you were so lost in pleasure, sure you would come from his attention to your breast alone.

“Faster toji..please..” “On your clit baby? Like this?” His gentle brushes had now turned into precise strokes and never in recent times had your dreamt of coming twice so quickly.

“Ahh!! Fuck!! Just like….that..I can’t! M gonna——cum..”

“Come for me good girl, let it all out… there ya go” and with the knot uncoiling, you came harder than ever.

“Such a good fucking girl for me” he whispered sinfully as he locked your lips in a gentle peck, making you ride out your high.

Little did Toji know that his sweet girl was minx in bed, all ready with her cunt clenching around for his cock. And he was all ready to give her the entire world, and of course his cock too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~••••~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: everytime I wrote Zack my brain kept going ‘gongaga’ send help.

A/N: just edited it a lil bit I’m so sorry for the all the typos 😭

[dianawinchester03]

Genesis Primis: A Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Book 1 of The Old Testament Series by @dianawinchester03

=====================================

Season One (Complete!)

Prologue - Enter Y/N L/N

Season 1, Episode 1 - Pilot

Season 1, Episode 2 - Wendigo

Season 1, Episode 3 - Dead in Water

Season 1, Episode 4 - Phantom Traveler

Season 1, Episode 5 - Bloody Mary

Season 1, Episode 6 - Skin

Season 1, Episode 7 - Hook Man

Season 1, Episode 8 - Bugs

Season 1, Episode 9 - Home

Season 1, Episode 10 - Asylum

Season 1, Episode 11 - Scarecrow

Season 1, Episode 12 - Faith

Season 1, Episode 13 - Route 666

Season 1, Episode 14 - Nightmare

Season 1, Episode 15 - The Benders

Season 1, Episode 16 - Shadow

Season 1, Episode 17 - Hell House

Season 1, Episode 18 - Something Wicked

Season 1, Episode 19 - Provenance

Season 1, Episode 20 - Dead Man’s Blood

Season 1, Episode 21 - Salvation

Season 1, Episode 22 - Devil’s Trap

Season 1 - Gag Reel

Season Two (Ongoing)

Season 2, Episode 1 - In My Time Of Dying

Season 2, Episode 2 - Everybody Loves A Clown

Season 2, Episode 3 - Bloodlust

Season 2, Episode 4 - Children Shouldn’t Play With Dead Things

Season 2, Episode 5 - Simon Said

Season 2, Episode 6 - No Exit

Season 2, Episode 7 - The Usual Suspects

Season 2, Episode 8 - Crossroad Blues

Season 2, Episode 9 - Croatoan

Season 2, Episode 10 - Hunted

Season 2, Episode 11 - Playthings

Season 2, Episode 12 - Nightshifter

Season 2, Episode 13 - Houses of the Holy

Season 2, Episode 14 - Born Under A Bad Sign

Season 2, Episode 15 - Tall Tales

Season 2, Episode 16 - Roadkill

Season 2, Episode 17 - Heart (coming soon)

Season 2, Episode 18 - Hollywood Babylon (coming soon)

Season 2, Episode 19 - Folsom Prison Blues (coming soon)

Season 2, Episode 20 - What Is and What Should Never Be (coming soon)

Season 2, Episode 21 - All Hell Breaks Loose: Part 1 (coming soon)

Season 2, Episode 22 - All Hell Breaks Loose: Part 2 (coming soon)

Season 2 Gag Reel (coming soon)

_____________________

Also available on:

📖; ao3

📖; wattpad

_____________________

Authors Note:

I finally learnt how to do a Masterlist! Hallelujah now life will be easier for you guys. Hope you check out my book and enjoy🫶 I’ll update the list after each chapter release.

Update:

I just want to say thank you to everyone for giving my book a chance. I am very new to writing so I’m no Shakespeare lol, but I’m giving and doing my best. With all the overwhelming endless support and love I’m receiving at this very moment, it’s so much more than I can ask for and so much more than I deserve. I appreciate every single bit from the bottom of my heart🥹

Xoxo

[godmadeaterribleerror]

No Love Lost Series Masterlist

Series Summary

Three years ago you were normal, the only demons you had to fight were your own, and you the most you knew of Vought and the Boys were what you saw on TV. But then you met Homelander at a stupid party, and woke up the next morning in a cell.

After almost two and a half years of you being Homelander's little project, Soldier Boy was woken up only go rouge and be put back under. Somewhere in there, you escaped. And before Queen Maeve went underground, she told William Butcher about the Anomaly, a powerful supe who recently escaped Vought captivity and may have an agenda against Homelander.

One month later, the Boys found you.

You spend the next five months helping them best you can, though your control over your powers is weak and your fear of Homelander makes you useless in combat. But you get an idea. A stupid, dangerous idea that turns you into Soldier Boy's keeper, giving him a second chance to take down Homelander, you hanging over his shoulder, a threat should he want to go nuclear again. It's exhausting and frustrating, and you might kill him and yourself as soon as this is over, but you said whatever it takes.

And this is what it takes.

Author's Note

This story is non-canon compliant, with the two main differences being;

1) Butcher doesn't have brain cancer, because I said so.

2) All of Gen V didn't take place, because I don't want to deal with the whole supe-plauge thing. Also that's too many characters to keep track of squad.

Because of this, the story will start in a similar setting as s4e5, but with different events leading up to it, and will deal with similar themes and have similar events to the rest of s4, but at an inconsistent rate. If you have any questions about other, smaller changes I have made, feel free to ask!

Rating/Warnings: 18+ for canon-typical violence, swearing, mental health issues, mentions of rape/non-con, and sexual content.

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, enemies to friends to lovers, canon divergence, slow burn, eventual smut, angst, fluff.

Read on A03!

Chapter List

Chapter 1 - Where Winning Looks Like Losing

Chapter 2 - A New Kind of Tension

Chapter 3 - You've Torn Your Dress

Chapter 4 - You Might Be The Same As Me

Chapter 5 - Popped, Cool, and Ready to Go

Chapter 6 - I've Been Searching for a Fortified Defense

Chapter 7 - The Blinding Ultra-Violence

Chapter 8 - I Just Find My Way Back

Chapter 9 - Can't Cover It Up

Chapter 10 - Lead Me To The Ark

Chapter 11 - The Wolves or The Ocean Rocks

Chapter 12 - While My Blood's Still Flowing

Chapter 13 - The Terror of Knowing

Chapter 14 - Choke on Sun

Chapter 15 - I Found A Martyr

Chapter 16 - Let It Flood

Chapter 17 - Make My Chest Stir

Bonus Footage (One-Shots)

As Much As I Do - Request! Ben finds Sunshine dancing, is immediately very normal about it. Takes place after Chapter 14 and around Chapter 15.

[joelalorian]

Fall Into Me

dbf!Joel x f!reader

The first TLOU fic I ever read was a dbf!Joel story and it left an indelible mark on my soul. Unfortunately, I never bookmarked it so I have no idea which one it was. It's only natural that I had to try my hand at one at some point. So, here we are.

Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.

Story is inspired by the song Fall Into Me by Forest Blakk. Chapter titles will be lyrics from the song.

Word Count: 4.1k

Series Warnings: Mature to start, but will ultimately be Explicit, under 18 take a hike. No outbreak AU. There will be angst, drama, fluff, humor, romance, smut... basically, the works. Age gap of about 9 years (Reader 24/25, Joel 33/34). No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname from her dad, which will be explained at some point.

Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Chapter One: The Day That I Met You

If you asked him over a decade ago where he’d be now, Joel Miller would not have placed himself as a single father to a tenacious pre-teen desperately trying to keep things afloat. He spent too many hours in the week working to keep a roof over their heads and food on the table. He would be lost without the help of his brother and the few friends he had. He had no social life to speak of and could not for the life of him remember the last time he went on an actual date.

No, back then, Joel thought he’d be living the good life in ten years’ time – traveling, going out with the boys, maybe have a girlfriend or wife. Basically, just getting to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. Don’t get him wrong, though. He was still living a good life; it just was a different sort of good than what he hoped for back in the day.

He loved his daughter with every fiber of his being. Sarah was the best damn thing that ever happened to him, his entire world, and he wouldn’t change the past ten years for anything. He bent over backwards doing whatever it took to make his little girl feel cared for, happy, and loved. He just wished there was a little energy left for something for himself at the end of the day.

Joel Miller was drained. Mentally, physically, and emotionally.

He awoke with a groan as the bright sunlight broke through the gap in his curtains. It was Saturday – his birthday – and he hoped to sleep in, at least a little. Between the brightness of the morning and the stifled sounds of clanging pans and voices carrying up the stairs from his kitchen, sleeping in was not happening.

He hauled himself out of bed with a groan worthy of a man twenty years his senior and stretched out his limbs to ease the achiness in his bare back and chest from too much manual labor. Throwing on a pair of well-worn sleep pants and a faded tee shirt, Joel slipped from his bedroom and down the stairs. He moved rather quietly for a man of his size, stealing a moment to lean against the entryway into the kitchen and watch as Sarah and Tommy worked together making breakfast.

The counters were a mess of spilled pancake mix, eggshells, and… was that coffee dripping over the edge and onto the floor? It was a toss-up on who made the bigger mess, his ten-year-old daughter, or his grown ass brother. Still, Joel could not stop the smile spreading across his face as he watched them laughing and teasing each other. That, right there, was the reason he worked so hard, why the loneliness was worth it.

When Tommy flipped the stovetop off, Sarah turned to find her dad smiling goofily at them. “Happy Birthday, Dad!” she exclaimed, launching herself at his chest. Her lanky arms wrapped around his neck as he lifted her off the ground in a big bear hug.

“Thanks, baby girl,” Joel replied, pressing his lips to her forehead in a quick kiss before he settled her feet on the ground.

“We made you breakfast!” Sarah declared, gesturing toward the disaster zone formerly known as his kitchen.

“I see that,” he chuckled, voice still slightly rough with sleep.

Tommy turned with a smirk, hands grasping two plates filled with bacon, eggs, and pancakes. “Take a seat, brother. Let us take care of you on your birthday.” Placing the food on the small dining table, Tommy roughly patted his brother’s shoulders. “Don’t worry ‘bout the mess, I’m on cleanup duty after we eat.”

“We expectin’ company? That’s a helluva lot of food,” Joel grumbled. He needed coffee, stat.

“Yeah, JB is comin’ over to see ya before heading to the airport. His daughter finished grad school over the summer and is moving back home.” Tommy set more food and a full mug of dark roast coffee in front of his brother. The scent alone made Joel perk up a little.

The Millers hadn’t met you yet, having only become friends with your dad through work after you’d already left for college on the east coast. Your dad had a good decade on Joel, but he and the Miller brothers got on like a forest fire from what he told you. With visits home always short and rushed, busy catching up with family and your own friends, there was never time for your dad to introduce you all. Now you were coming home for good and would have plentiful opportunities for spending time with your dad and his friends.

“Speak of the devil,” Tommy muttered as the doorbell rang. Sarah bounded to the door to greet your dad with a hug. In many ways, the girl reminded him of you when you were young, and it always brought a smile to his face.

“There he is! The man of the hour. Happy Birthday, buddy!” Your dad, John, or JB as the Millers called him, ruffled Joel’s already mussed hair, leaving a few locks standing straight up in further disarray. Pulling a 12-pack of beer from behind his back, your dad set it on the table in front of Joel, topped with a little red bow. “I gotcha a lil’ something to celebrate.”

“Good man,” Joel replied with a chuckle. “Have a seat and help me eat all this. Tommy just told me your lil’ girl is coming home, finally.”

Your dad’s face lit up even more at the mention of you coming home. “She’s not so little anymore, but I sure am glad she’s moving back here. Said she had enough of the east coast, but I think she just missed her ol’ man.” After wolfing down some food, he added, “Think we could host a small barbecue here this coming weekend to celebrate? Your backyard is way nicer than mine and you got the pool and all.”

“Not to mention that fancy ass grill,” Tommy chimed in.

Swallowing a long sip of his morning go juice, Joel nodded. “Of course. Invite whoever you want. I’m looking forward to finally meeting your daughter.”

“Me too!” Sarah added. She heard a lot about you from your dad and hoped you were as cool in person as he made you out to be.

Joel’s mind started spinning upon hearing his daughter’s excitement. With her school hours being so different from his typical work hours, he was spending a small fortune on after school care for Sarah. She was still too young for him to leave home alone, especially on those days where he’s stuck late at a job. He was barely scraping by as it was and couldn’t really afford the cost of after school programs. Perhaps…

“JB, ya think your daughter would mind watching Sarah during the week while she’s home. Drop off and pick up from school and keeping her company ‘til I get home from work? I could pay her – it wouldn’t be much, but better than nothin’, I imagine.” He watched Sarah’s eyes light up at the suggestion and knew it was a good choice.

“I’m sure she’d love to. She wasn’t planning on finding a real job until after the holidays, so I know she’ll be free during the day,” your dad replied. “I’ll talk to her about it on the ride back from the airport and let you know.”

Three suitcases and a carry-on bag. That’s all you had left from six and a half years of pursuing higher education in North Carolina. You sold or gave away anything that did not fit into your luggage or hold sentimental value of your time away. Now, you were moving back home to save some money before you had to start chipping away at the mountain of student loan debt you accrued.

You loved learning, always have, but you were relieved to be done with school. Equipped with a bachelor’s degree in earth sciences and a master’s in education, you felt like a real adult ready to take the world of middle school by storm… well, starting after the new year, maybe. For now, you needed several months of limited to no responsibility to recoup your mental and physical energy. That last couple years of school really burned you out. Not to mention the last-minute rejection of a teaching position you thought was in the bag…

Anyway, you were better off leaving North Carolina behind and returning to Austin. You missed your dad something fierce and his particular brand of caring for you was exactly what your weary soul needed. It was you and him against the world, just like when you were a kid.

You flight was smooth and uneventful, yet you were relieved to deboard the plane. Something about being stuck in a tin can at the mercy of someone else’s ability to keep the thing from plummeting to the ground really aggravated your anxiety. Flying was something you would never enjoy; it was merely a means to an end when you wanted to travel long distances.

The journey to baggage claim was a slog with the crowd of passengers all heading to the same place. You were wondering how you’d wrangle three large suitcases by yourself when you caught sight of your dad. His broad smile took over his face when he spotted you, rushing over to sweep you up in a big bear hug.

“Hey Spud, how was the flight?” he asked as you waited for the baggage carousel to begin moving. “Looks like it was a full plane.”

“It was, but the flight was good. I’m really glad to be home.”

“Me, too, kid.”

You settled into a comfortable silence, watching various pieces of luggage pass by on the carousel. Your bags were scattered, and you had to wait several cycles to get all of them. Your dad lugged the final suitcase over the carousel with a grunt. “Jesus, what you got in this one? Bricks? A body?”

“That one has my gaming system and half a closet full of clothes,” you replied with a laugh.

Before long, everything was loaded into your dad’s truck, and you were heading back towards town. The radio hummed at a low volume as you both chatted about everything and nothing all at once.

“Hey, so I know you said you weren’t looking for full-time work until after the new year, but I have a proposition for you.” Your dad’s eyes stayed focused on the road, and you merely quirked a brow waiting for him to continue. “My buddy Joel – you know the one I told you about? Well, his daughter is ten and he needs some help with the school run and after school care. Our work hours aren’t exactly the same as elementary school, you know?”

You nodded, remembering all the times your dad spoke to you about Joel, as well as his daughter and brother. Despite never meeting them, you felt like you already knew their whole life story. “So, he’s looking for a nanny or something? I could do that. It would keep me from getting lazy while I navigate getting my Texas teaching certificate.”

Your dad grinned, one hand patting your leg. “I was hoping you’d say that. Joel will pay you, of course, but just… don’t expect much. It ain’t easy for him being a single dad trying to keep everything afloat.”

Again, you nodded, a soft smile creasing your lips. You knew all too well how challenging it could be for single parents, having grown up with just you and your dad. Much like what your dad told you about Joel’s experience with the mother of his child, your mom split when you were barely a toddler. Things weren’t always sunshine and roses, but your dad sure did his best to make sure you had a great life. Honestly, you wouldn’t trade it for the world, that life with your dad. You had a feeling it was much the same for Joel and his daughter.

“I’m happy to help, even if he doesn’t pay me. I’m sure his daughter will enjoy having a female influence in her life if nothing else. What’s her name again? Sarah?”

Your dad’s eyes twinkled with pride. “Yup, that’s it. I’m proud of the woman you’ve become, Spud.”

A mist of tears prickled your eyes as you mumbled out a “Thanks, dad.” After a beat, you added, “Must you keep up with that nickname?”

“Of course. You’ll always be my little Spud,” he laughed as you rolled your eyes. “Oh, by the way, we’re going to the Millers on Saturday for your welcome home party.”

“What’s all this?” Joel questioned as Tommy and Sarah placed a heavy, wrapped package on the table before him along with a few smaller presents. The remains of a birthday cake sat nearby, having been delightfully devoured by the Millers while celebrating Joel’s birthday.

“Just a little somethin’ from me and Sarah,” Tommy replied, a boyish grin alighting his handsome features.

Joel gazed between them with curiosity. Not big on celebrating his own aging, he rarely got big gifts. “You wanna help me open this, nugget?” Sarah’s eyes lit up, small hands reaching to tear the wrapping paper into shreds. It only took a few moments for the contents to be revealed, leaving Joel confused at the modern contraption sitting in front of him. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“You play video games on it, dumbass.” Tommy harumphed as he began a diatribe on the features of the gaming system – he had one just like it at his place and it provided hours of entertainment when he didn’t feel like going out. “I figured it would be a good hobby for you since you never want to join me in going out.”

“Huh,” Joel grunted in return, brows furrowed as he read the instructions on how to setup up the machine. His attention was diverted by Sarah shoving the smaller parcels into his lap.

“Here, dad! These go with it.” Together, they tore into the wrapping paper to find several video games, a few of which were family friendly. The final gift was a spare controller for the gaming system so he and Sarah could play together.

Despite still being unsure that the gift was a good fit for him, Joel was grateful to Tommy for the effort. “This is too much, man. You shouldn’t spend this kind of money on me, Tommy.”

His brother waved him off. “I found a great deal and you never get anything for yourself, brother. You deserve something to indulge in. Believe me, you’ll have fun with this.”

The rest of the evening was spent with Tommy setting up the system and showing the father-daughter duo how to play some of the games he picked out. The living room filled with lots of laughter and teasing, and Joel found himself really getting into the fun of the video games.

After tucking Sarah into bed, Tommy showed Joel a game that was too violent for the little girl but entertaining for the men. The game was set in Washington DC which had been ravaged by a brutal pandemic and the main character was part of a group of agents fighting off nefarious gangs trying to take over the city. Joel caught onto the gameplay quickly and the two men found themselves building the loadout for Joel’s character, taking out bad guys, and chatting well into the night.

At two in the morning, the pair looked at each other with bleary, red-rimmed eyes and finally called it a night. Joel directed Tommy to crash in the spare room as he shuffled off to bed upstairs.

It didn’t take you long to get settled into your dad’s house. It wasn’t the home you grew up in and you only visited a few times after he bought it. After years living away on your own, you thought it would be an adjustment being under his roof again, but it wasn’t. He understood the need for personal space and never hovered unless you were hurt or sick. He gave you the downstairs bedroom – it was the largest in the house, with an ensuite bath and huge walk-in closet.

“Dad, no! Why in the world is this not your room?” you questioned when he placed your bags on the brand-new, king size bed he had delivered the week prior.

“Hell no, Spud. What do I need all this space for? I like the upstairs rooms better – the light is all wrong in this one anyway.”

You looked around, holding in a giggle. The room faced south, giving you just the right amount of natural light all day. That’s what your dad didn’t like. He preferred to live like a bat in a cave with blackout curtains and limited lighting.

“Alright, well, I love it. The natural light is perfect for me. I can actually put some plants on the windowsills. Thank you!” You kissed his cheek as he left you to get settled.

You spent the week rearranging the bedroom how you wanted it, setting up your gaming system, and putting all your clothes into the walk-in closet. Your dad hadn’t done much with the room other than furnish it, so you made a few trips to the store to get a bathroom set, floor lamps, and wall décor to make the room your own.

Before you knew it, Saturday morning dawned bright and warm. The day of your welcome home gathering arrived, and you would finally get to meet the Millers. An excited energy had you moving about your space in a flurry, tidying up and getting ready early. You’d seen some photos of the Millers that your dad sent you – Sarah was adorable with her dark, springy curls, and Joel… Joel was handsome, in a broody, overworked kind of way, with dark, riotous curls and big, warm chocolate eyes. Kind eyes, you called them.

“Hey Spud, you ready?” your dad called from the kitchen as you put the finishing touches on your hair. It was pinned up, leaving the smooth skin of your neck bare. The sundress you picked hugged your curves in just the right way, falling just at your knees in a flow of lightweight material. In early October, Austin was still hot, and you hoped the Millers’ yard was shaded.

“Bring a swimsuit! They have a pool!” he yelled as you grabbed the last of your things. Turning back to your closet, you grabbed a dark green one-piece suitable for family-friendly swimming and tucked it into your bag.

“I’m ready!”

Your dad smiled at the sight of you. “Let’s go then. We’re heading over early so you can officially meet the Millers and we’ll help them setup before everyone else arrives.”

“Sounds good. Who all’s coming anyway?” Your eyes widened as your dad rattled off a list of people he invited, including his work buddies and some of his and Joel’s neighbors. He would have invited some of your old friends from high school, but you all lost touch over the years. The party was turning out bigger than you thought. Your heart swelled with how happy your dad was to have you home for good.

The Millers lived in the same neighborhood, only a few blocks away, so close you could have walked if not for the scorching sun. The drive took only a few minutes before your dad pulled into the driveway of a two-story home similar to your dad’s, with simple landscaping and two wooden rocking chairs on the wide porch. Lovely and quaint, the house made you more curious about the people who lived there.

“Dayum! Get a load a JB’s daughter, Joel,” Tommy called from the living room, leaning over the couch to look out the front window. “She’s smokin’ hot!”

“Dammit, Tommy. Stop spying on ‘em,” Joel growled, sneaking a peek over his brother’s shoulder to do a little hypocritical spying of his own. Breath caught in his throat at the sight of you and he couldn’t break his gaze away, even as JB led you toward the front door.

“What was that about spyin’, brother?” Tommy teased, practically dragging Joel away from the window as a knock sounded against the door. “Don’t worry, I’ll get it.”

Tommy opened the heavy wooden door revealing the pair of you standing there, matching bright eyes and wide grins greeting him. “Well, hello there, beautiful. I’m Tommy.” Reaching a hand toward you, Tommy completely ignored JB, who just scowled at him.

“Nice to meet you, Tommy,” you replied, offering him your hand and name in return. Joel’s scowl matched your dad’s expression as Tommy held your hand for several beats too long.

“Back off, Tommy,” your dad grunted, swatting at the younger Miller brother. “This here is Tommy’s brother, Joel. The one who actually owns this house and the better Miller, if you ask me.”

“Ain’t no one askin’ you, old man,” Tommy’s smart mouth shot back at your dad.

Joel ignored both men, eyes like dark pools as he gazed at you, awed at how small and delicate your hand felt in his. “Howdy, darlin’,” his voice rumbled from his chest. “Come on in. There’s someone else lookin’ forward to meeting you.”

Leading the way through the kitchen into the backyard, Joel felt the heat of your gaze burning his back. Were you checking him out? There was no way. You were beautiful and likely in your early twenties. He felt ancient, though he was only in his early thirties, the hard labor of construction work having taken its toll on him.

“Hi Dad!” a young, sweet voice called from a small swing set where a precious little girl entertained herself. “Who’s this?”

Joel introduced you to his daughter, leaving the two of you to get acquainted as your dad called him away.

“You were away at college?” Sarah questioned, motioning for you to take a seat on the swing next to hers.

“I was,” you replied. “But I’m back for good now.”

“That’s good. What grade did you get to? I’m in fourth grade.”

You thought about it a moment. “I guess it would be 18th grade. But you stop counting grade numbers after 12th and start using different words to describe what year you’re in during college.”

Sarah listened raptly while you explained the different terms, what you studied in school, and what kind of job you were hoping to get.

“You want to be a teacher?” she asked, awed.

“I do! I want to teach middle grade science.”

“I love science! Maybe you could be my teacher when I get to sixth grade!”

Joel returned with your dad and Tommy in tow to find you and Sarah having a blast. The little girl sat in your lap as you kicked your feet out, swinging as high as you could, singing some camp song you remembered from your youth.

“See? Told ya she’d love to spend time with Sarah,” your dad said to Joel. He couldn’t tear his gaze away, staring at the two of you with a glazed look in his dark eyes.

Shaking himself off, Joel turned to your dad. “Guess I better work out some details with her.” He stepped over to the swing set, taking a seat on the empty swing and hoping to the heavens above that it held his weight. He struggled internally on how to start the conversation and was just about to blurt something out when his amazing daughter saved the day.

“Dad! She wants to be a teacher! A science teacher! Isn’t that cool? Did you ask her about watching me yet? I think she’d love to.” Sarah rambled on excitedly, amusing you and Joel. Turning to you before Joel could chime in, Sarah turned to you with baby cow eyes, adding, “You would love to, right?”

How could you ever resist that look? No one could. Both you and Joel were powerless as you nodded, and the offer became official. Cell numbers were exchanged and before you knew it, you had a job starting Monday.

Hours later, slightly drunk on spiked fruit punch and buzzing with energy, you thanked Joel for hosting the barbecue and giving you a job. You kissed his stubbled cheek, forcing thoughts of how attractive he was as far down as they could go. You could not develop a crush on your boss. “I’ll see you Monday morning, bright and early!” you declared before following your dad through the front door.

TBC

[alastor-simp]

Mates For Life - Alastor x Doe Reader (R18-NOT FOR MINORS)

❥WARNINGS: NSFW. NOT FOR MINORS (SCROLL AWAY IF YOU ARE UNDERAGED)

❥Summary: Charlie's Deer Friend (literally) attends the hotel and helps charlie with her endeavors. Alastor seems quite interested in the little doe and remains close. What happens when she goes into a rut in the middle of pride ring? How will Alastor amend the situation?

❥Tags: Alastor x female reader, rut, doe reader, reader in heat, sex, pregnancy, Alastor develops feelings, vox is an asshole, protective alastor, happy ending

❥Notes: Requested by @ohmylovewhereartthou-blog . Enjoy!

"AHHH, MISSS CHARLIE SSSAVE ME PLEASSSSE!!!" Sir Pentious cried out, running away from a furious Vaggie with a spear in her hand. "GET OVER HERE, YOU SERPIENTE!" Fuming with rage, Vaggie raced towards the poor snake, ready to stab him. Charlie heard the commotion and rushed over, holding her girlfriend back with her arms, while Sir Pentious cowered behind the couch. "HAHAHA, nothing like a bit of chaotic entertainment to start the day!" Sipping on his coffee near the bar, Alastor observed the scene, highly entertained at Charlies attempts to calm down her girlfriend, and the whimpers of the snake. "Vaggie! Calm down please, He didn't mean it." Holding Vaggie tightly, she waited for her to settle. "HIS EGG BOIS BLEW THE CEILING UP AGAIN WITH HIS WEAPONS! I TOLD HIM BEFORE NO MORE WEAPONS!!" Vaggie spat out, as her spear pointed at Sir Pentious, ready to aim it at him. "VAGGIE! IT WAS AN ACCIDENT! PLEASE CALM DOWN!!" After about a few minutes of holding her back, Vaggie's fury had subsided, dropping the spear to the ground. A knock at appeared at the door of the hotel, alerting everyone in the room. "Oh, I'll get that! The two of you continue make up please!" Charlie ran over to the door, while Sir Pentious slowly removed himself from behind the couch, appearing apologetic in front of Vaggie, while Vaggie continued to stare at Charlie before looking back at Sir Pentious, still a bit ticked, but uttered a sorry.

"Awww..how dull. I so would have love to see some bloodshed." Alastor voiced out, as he continued to sip away at his coffee, eyes following Charlie heading to the door. Having opened the door widely, Charlie squealed, causing everyone to turn their heads to the entrance, and Alastor to raise an eyebrow. "Y/N!!!! YOU'RE HERE!!! ITS SO NICE TO SEE YOU AGAIN!!" There was a sweet giggle that could be heard, causing Al's ears to twitch. "It's great to see you to, Charlie!" Having released each other from the hug, Charlie grabbed your hand, allowing you to come inside. All eyes were drawn to you, given your resemblance to a certain deer demon. Small little antlers adorned the top of your head, along with the fluffy brown ears that were moving cutely. Your face resembled that of a humans, yet the little brown nose stood out, along with the small brown tail that was showing out of your little dress

(Credit to pinterest)

"Everyone! This is Y/N, my good friend!" Charlie gestured to you, as you shyly smiled back at everyone, giving them a small wave. At this point, everyone had gathered inside the hotel lobby, including Angel dust and Niffty. Angel dust, knowing his ways, was the first one to mention your look, "Woah! This gal looks a lot like Smiles over here!" His eyes scanned at both you and Alastor before turning back to you with a semi smirk. Vaggie had made her way over, a bit of uncertainty on her face, as she has never come across you before. "How do the both of you know each other?" Crossing her arms, she gave you a bit of a glare. "Oh! Me and Charlie met a few years ago when we were both children. I often times would be brought to the palace with my parents as they would attend meetings with the King and Queen. Since there wasn't much for me to do as a child, I explored the castle and ran into Charlie. We had been friends ever since." Vaggie glare had softened and she was looking at you with kind eyes, glad that you weren't another demon, planning to possibly sabotage the hotel, and happy that Charlie had a very strong bond with you. Feeling your shoulders getting grabbed, Charlie had asked why had you come to the hotel. Smiling, you told Charlie you wanted to help out with her rehabilitation program, since you as well believed that people could be redeemed, which earned you a huge bear hug from Charlie.

"OHHHHH! I'M SO HAPPY YOU ARE HERE TO HELP! Oh before I forget, let me introduce you to everyone!" Charlie had introduced everyone to you one by one, making a note of everyones names. Vaggie, Charlies girlfriend, Sir Pentious, the kind looking snake, Angel dust, the tall pink spider, Niffty, the adorable one eyed demon, Husk, the grumpy cat, and last by not least, Alastor, the radio demon. Having poofed his coffee away, Alastor made his way over to you, smiling widely, microphone cane in hand. "Why, aren't you an adorable doe, my dear!" His glowing eyes held a bit of wickedness, as he bent down at the waist, giving you a polite bow. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance!" His hand arched out for a handshake, which you followed by putting your hand in his, giving it a polite shake. "Nice to meet you as well. I have heard much about you from your radio show." Perking up with interest, Alastor smile had grown almost twice the size. "Ahh, I take it you are a fan?" His face had gotten closer, earning a small blush from you. "Well, not so much the screams of the demons, but I do enjoy the music you play. I do love me some Cab Calloway and Duke Ellington." Oh, Al's smile grew to the point it almost broke his face, as he stood back to his regular height. "HAHAHA! Charlie, I have taken quite a liking to your little friend here!" His hand had placed on your shoulder, giving it a squeeze, no trace of animosity whatsoever in that little gesture. "Oh I'm happy to here that Al. If you want, do you want to give them a tour of the hotel?" Giving Al her best puppy dog eyes, Alastor could not refuse, besides he was planning on showing you around anyway. "I be delighted to! Come along, my dear!

Hooking his arm with yours, Alastor took it upon himself to show you certain areas of the hotel, the kitchen, the rooms of the other denizens, and the lounge room. Walking through the hallways, he looked at one of the windows and motioned to you at the small building attached to the hotel. "That my dear is where I do my broadcasts! I could have you attend one of them, if you would like!" Your eyebrow rose at that, "As a guest or victim?" Turning back to look at you, Alastor shook his head, flicking his hand at you "Heavens no! I would never harm a doll like you, plus I have grown quite fond of you! He had bent down again to lean closer to your face, smiling genuinely for once. "I feel the same." Offering him a soft smile, Alastor perked up at that, causing his tail to start wagging under his coat. He grabbed your arm again, and continued his tour, with you following next to him.

**2 Months Later**

"Lets see, got the chicken, tomatoes, taco seasoning...." You were shopping around a grocery store, getting ingredients for tonight's dinner plans. You had adapted well at the hotel and was able to help out Charlie to the best of your abilities. Vaggie did tell you that it was going to be difficult to bring demons to the hotel, but you were still going to try. Relationships with the others began to form left and right the longer you stayed at the hotel. Everyone adored you, even Husk was in a more cheery mood at the hotel. The closest bond you had was the one with Alastor, which started the day you had arrived at the hotel. He was not lying when he said that he grew fond of you, as his actions around you always made your heart skip a beat. Hand holding, leaving little gifts for you in your room, and showing his true side to you made you fall more and more in love with him. The path to a forming a romantic relationship was in front of you with Alastor, but there were many roadblocks ahead of you, one of them being if he was entirely comfortable and okay with the idea, since he has said to you before he wasn't keen on romance and all that nonsense, but based on his actions around you, maybe? possibly? Shaking away your thoughts, you went to check out at the register and started to head out.

Paper bag of groceries concealed in your arms, your eyes scanned the area, group of demons fighting each other, broken glass all over the place, and the air heavy with filth and smoke, yep just another day in hell. Wanting to avoid some of the chaos, you took a shortcut that allowed you to make it home safely. Venturing further down the path, you noticed the air felt very warm lately, which was strange since it wasn't so hot before. It felt almost hard to breathe, making you sweat profusely. The heat became unbearable, causing you to stop and lean against the wall. Your tail kept fidgeting behind you, like it had a mind of its own. A feel of dread hit you once you felt the heatness intensify in your core. Oh no no no, You were in heat! This was not good, as the times when you went into heat, you were by yourself, alone in a secluded area, as your heat released pheromones that attracted everyone to you. Now that you were outside, you made for a VERY easy target. Trying to bare through the heat, you slowly made your way down the path, holding the groceries tighter to prevent from dropping them, hoping you would reach the hotel first, before you fell victim to the heinous actions of other demons if they caught you like this.

As you rounded a corner, your face connected with someones chest, causing the contents of the paper bag to fly out, spilling onto the ground and the persons chest and shoes, staining them. "Oh I'm sorry!" As you looked up, you felt your heart hit your stomach. In front of you was none other then one of the Vees known as Vox. He was a TV demon, with a head resembling that of a TV. You heard about him a lot from Alastor and listening to his show that Vox was Al's mortal enemy. This was not good, you need to get away from him NOW! His screen face illuminated your back at you, as his red eyes scanned down to look at you, filled with disgust. "Ugh great, I just washed this suit too and now its dirtied." Inching closer to you, his hand had gripped your shirt, pulling you closer towards him, making you gasp, "Hey bitch, how are going to compensate for ruining my....." His eyes widen for a second, before returning back to normal. He wasn't glaring at you, he seemed...almost in a trance. His face continued to glitch in front of you, until his red static eyes had turned into hearts and he was smirking at you. "Wow you smell amazing, deer girl. Why don't I take you to my room in the Vee tower?" His hands had wrapped around you, preventing you from escaping. "N-o Le-t go of m-e!" Your attempts were futile as your heat had rendered you to weak to fight back, only able to struggle in his embrace. Chin risen up to face the tv, he held it up as he slowly began to inch closer, his screen mouth aiming closer for your lips. "Come on, little lady. Lets have some fun."

SMASH!!!!!!

Vox's body was sent flying, as a large tentacle had punched his face, shattering his screen. Your body still weak, began to slump and fall to the ground. Moving your head up, you widen your eyes to see Alastor, smile stretched to show his gums, eyes pinpointing straight at Vox, who was slumped against the alley wall, groaning in pain. Turning his head quickly towards you, Al's glare has lessen, showing you a look of concern, making sure you were alright. Looking back towards Vox, he slowly walked towards Vox, the sounds of his steps echoing and static piercing the air. "Now Vox, my old friend. It is quite rude to touch a fair lady like that......especially when s̑҉̝h̡̲ͥė̶̳ ̑͏͎̤͘b̛͖̪̆̓̕e̛͕̦̿̏͡ĺ͊͠҉̙͙õ͈͒̕͢ͅn̶͔͇ͧ̐̀g̫̯̿́̚͠s̞̼͒͆͘͜ ̫͗̔͜͞ͅt̄͒͏̪̠̀ǫ̤̻͒̋̕ ̥̪̿͟͡m̷͎͋ẹ̌͠ !" Demonic symbols began to appear around Alastor, glowing an ominous red as Alastor antlers began to grow. ""̝ͮĬ̮Ḟ̻ ̝͒Y̙͗O͉͂Ŭ͙ ̱̄E̫͒V̤̐E̥̋R̞ͬ ̫ͤT͍̐O̫̔U͙̚C͍̆H̗͑ ̖͑H̝͌É̦R̙̚ ̝̋A͉̽G̫ͦA̰ͦI̤ͪŃ̞.̜͌ ̺͉͗I̳̳͌'͇͇͆̂L̜̥͐́L̫̱̓̋ ̘̗ͩ̈R̺ͫ̅ͅI̦̬ͩͪP͔͙̓͂ ̙̫͛̿Ò̟̩͛F̦̺̈ͫF̗̟͛͂ ̟͕̌̔Y̯͚ͩ̇O̖̣͒͌U̬͎͑͊R͍̭ͦ̄ ̰͓ͭ͌A̻̯̋͒L̝̭ͫ̋L͕͎̉̄ ̯̻̑̽O̥̼ͥ̃F͇̤̒̂ ̘̝̊̄Ẏ̦̜̌O̳̲͊ͭU̹̱ͩ̉R͚̳ͭͦ ̰̥ͪ̑P̭̩̉ͭA̱̯̾͒T̥͓ͦ͆Ḫ̏̉ͅE͍͉͊͐T̙̹͒ͯI͓̠͑̐C̳͖̾̚ ̯̙͊ͥL͈̖ͫ̓I͇̦͌̉T̩͇̂̀T̩̦ͨ͂L̝̖ͥ̂Ě͎͈ͯ ̜̱̂ͮL̠̫ͥͧI̪̬͗̓M͔̰̾̚B̫̣̏́S̺̯̆ͣ,̗̰̆̆ ̼̘̀͋D̻̗̉̋E͇̘ͬV̟ͭͅO̬͉ͦṲ̗̂R̦̹̒͌ ̠̲͌̀T͎̻̋́H̻̟̾̊E̦̮͆̎M̫̭ͤ͊ ͓͕̇ͭA̬͇̓̔N̫͇ͣͦĎ͙̗͆ ̝̰̄̇B̙͇̋̇R̭̹͊̋Ổ͓̯Ḁ͍̆̏D̜̩ͭͦC͇͈ͥ̌A̗͉ͬ̒S͍̲͌ͭT͚̻͗͂ ̺͚͒ͮṪ͉̝̓H̬̻͗ͤE̬͉ͪͤ ̭͍̐̃S͕̣̐ͬO̰͉͑͊Ủ̼̹̎N̠̖̿̄Ḓ͚̓̉S͙̼̓̅ ͚ͪ̈ͅO͖̼ͫ̔F̭̞͑ͦ ̜̫ͬ̓Y͕̮ͥ̏O̙̬͌̑Ṵ̙̒̎R̦͎̊̚ ̭̅ͬͅS̬̤͂͆C͈͚̈ͤR͉̦͒̂E̩̻ͭ̆A͔̫̓̂M̪͎ͣ̋S̟̗ͨ̊ ͍̪̊ͧṮ̣ͬ̂O̪̗ͫ͋ ͇̳ͣ̉Ǎ̗̩ͪL͈͎̋̊L̥̓ͅ ̳̺̑Ȏ͕F̺̐ ͇́T̩̾H̙ͪĚ̯ ̤ͪS͕͊E͍͐V̼̾Ẻ̦N̜͐ ̰̔R̗͆I̜̒N̙͆G̳͑S͕̀ ̪ͮO͇͗F͎͋ ̥͒H̬̐Ė̥Ḻ͗Ḻͮ!̙͊!͚ͭ"

His form had grown into a monstrous height, black tendrils appearing from his back, and you can assume his red eyes had become radio dials. His whole form bent over, big enough to hover over Vox, as he was whimpering in fear on the ground. Face glitching from the broken screen, tongue stuck in his throat due to fear, he wasn't able to even utter a word, resorting to nodding his head rapidly, letting Alastor know he understood. In a flash, Alastor had turned back into his less demonic form, static dimming down as if nothing had happen. "Good man!" His cheery tone returned, before turning back towards you, leaving Vox cowering behind him. Walking closer to your position on the ground, Alastor bent down to pick you up, holding you like a princess. "Come along, my deer. Let us return back to the hotel!

With a snap of his fingers, Alastor teleported the both of you away from your location, appearing in the middle of your room at the hotel. Alastor had moved closer to your bed, setting you down. Your eyes looked up at him and you can tell he was upset, given how strained his smile was. "What on earth were you thinking, my dear?! I have told you countless times that area of pride is quite notorious for wayward scum to pop up, especially my old pal, Vox. I made it abundantly clear that either me or Husk should go with you, and yet you disregarded my warning. What have you to say for...." Midway through his rant, Alastor took note of your reactions. Your body was trembling, eyes a bit glossy and sweat was evident on your face. The sweet scent soon reached his nose, causing him to step back a bit. Ohhh he knows what is happening, you had gotten into your rut season. No wonder Vox had gotten touchy with you, the aroma emitting from your body was irresistible. He felt his lower regions come to life, painfully pushing against his trousers. Bearing through his desire to take you right here and now, Alastor moved closer towards you, placing his hands on both sides of the bed next to you, caging you in. Through your feverish daze, your were able to notice Alastor actions, looking up at him, eyes filled with both confusion and passion.

"Your in mating season aren't you. I can help you with your predicament, darling, but there are going to be some minor things that must be brought up if we are to do this. One, If we perform this, we will be mates for life, you will be tied down to me for the rest of our lives, and two, you will have my offspring as you are extremely fertile. It is once again your decision if you would like to be my mate." His words were soft, eyes filled with adoration as he explained all of this to you. Mates for life? Yes, YES! Placing your hands against his cheek, you drew him closer to kiss him, soft lips molding against yours, making the both of you moan. Smiling in the kiss, Alastor was glad your answer was Yes, as he continued to kiss you, pushing forward as both of your bodies fell on to the bed. Your eears twitch as you heard the sound of a snap, as the both of you pulled away, seeing that Alastor had snapped both of his and your clothes away, leaving the both of you bare. His glowing eyes scanned over your whole body, hands moving to your pussy, inserting his fingers slowly inside of you, earning a moan from you. "My my, your insides are so hot and moist, darling. It's becoming very difficult not to take you right now!" Licking his lips, he continued to finger your insides, moans spewing your lips.

He only put his fingers inside and you felt like you could burst at any moment. "Please do it. I can't take it anymore. Breed me!" You begged for him, earning a chuckle from him. "Brace yourself, darling." His whole length inserted itself inside of you, earning a groan from both you and him. There was no pain, only immense pleasure when he entered inside of you. Your walls were squeezing him tightly, keeping him locked in. "Groan~, so tight...." His voice was driving you crazy, as you never heard him without his static. The both of you stayed in that position, until Alastor grabbed your legs, raising them up in the air, and began to plow you, making you scream. "Ahhhhhhhh...Al...AL!" Grasping the bed with your hands, you felt your eyes roll back, mind going blank from the ecstasy you were feeling. He was so deep inside of you he could almost hit your womb. Speeding up faster and faster, he was making you see stars from how much he was pleasuring you. Something was coming, it was coming quickly, causing your back to arch of the bed, "Al.....I'm gonn-I'm gonna come!" Alastor smiled at you, bending down to give a kiss on your lips, before moving his head closer to your ear. "Then come" He bit down on your neck, creating the mating mark that would bind the both of you together. A sudden rush hit you, and you screamed out, feeling something exploded out of you, clenching his length tighter, making him moan. He continued to pound you rapidly, as he soon let out a groan, cumming inside of you, seed hitting your womb.

**4 months later**

"My dear~, I'm home~!" Alastor sang out, as he entered inside his bedroom, where you were staying. You were laid out on the bed, book in one hand, and another on your now round belly. After that mating session, the both of you had become a deer couple for life. Al wasn't kidding when he said you were very fertile cause a few weeks after that you realized you were pregnant, with twins in fact. Alastor was over the moon when he found out, picking you up and spinning you around in joy. He had decided that the both of you would stay in his hotel room together , making sure you were comfortable and also providing you protection. You told him there was no need for that, but he had grown quite possessive and protective of you, rather you staying with him then by yourself in your hotel room. "Hi my love! Did you enjoy your stroll?" Smiling sweetly, your eyes watched Alastor make his way over to you, throwing his arms around you in a tender hug. "It would have been better if your presence was with me!" Rubbing his head against yours like a cat, he whined his frustrations out, earning a laugh from you. "Who was the one that said I should stay here and rest?" Quirking an eyebrow at him, you wrapped an arm around his back , giving it a pat. Slowly, Al removed himself from the hug, but placed his forehead against yours. "I am aware, my doe. I just still want you by my side." He spoke sweetly, hearts appearing in his eyes. Who knew the radio demon was such an affectionate cuddlebug? Drawing his eyes towards your stomach, he placed a gentle hand on it, giving it a rub. A sudden movement came from your stomach, surprising the both of you. "Such exuburent behavior! One of my fawns is going to be an excellent dancer like me!" Alastor smiled warmly, hand still caressing your belly. "or a successful radio host." You said, smiling up at Al, as you placed your hand on top of his. Alastor hummed in joy, nuzzling your forehead again, and placing a tender kiss on it. "Je t'aime, my doe!

-END-

Sinners:

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[importantstudentbusinessspy-blog]

Cold-hearted Wolf

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Martell princess reader.

Tags: Angst, fluff, arranged marriage, eventual smut, cregan is repressed and mean at first, then falls for the reader.

All fiction, the reader is a made up character. Im a long-time reader, but first-time writer.

Chapter 2 - war council, sexy sparring, and a confrontation.

Cregan Stark stood at the head of a large wooden table, surrounded by advisors and generals. His dog sat obediently beside his chair. The table was spread with maps, denoting positions, and pathways. Cregan's fingers traced a potential route, his eyes focused.

"This pass," he began, pointing to a narrow way in the mountains, "Will be our best chance. It's least expected. We'll split our forces..."

Before he could continue, the door creaked open, and you walked in, your curious gaze taking in the scene. You curtseyed before the council, approaching the table with measured steps. Cregan's pet waddled over and nuzzled against your dress, letting you scratch behind his ear.

Cregan's brow furrowed. "My lady," he began, his tone polite but firm, "This is a war council meeting. It's not a place for a princess."

There was a murmur of agreement from some of the men and women, while others looked away, not meeting your gaze.

You swallowed the insult, whether he intended it or not, hoping your confidence didn’t waver as you offered in turn. "In Sunspear, my father’s council valued the insights of all, regardless of sex or stature. I've studied battles since I was little, my lord, and strategies. My input might offer a fresh perspective."

Cregan hesitated, raising a brow in trying to assess when their or not this information about Dornish customs was true.

"Your highness." One of the generals, an older man with grizzled hair, grunted, "There is no harm in hearing the lady Stark, my lord. The Dornish have a way with unconventional tactics."

You held your tongue from telling the general the tactics only seemed unconventional to him, but in the south, they were quite practiced. You were grateful enough that he spoke in your defense.

After a long pause, Cregan finally nodded. "Very well. Speak your mind, my lady."

You smiled at your husband and approached the maps. With a glint in your eye, you began outlining your thoughts, suggesting alternatives and considering Dornish strategies that the North had made full use of. The room slowly grew quiet, listening cautiously to your thoughts. As you spoke, you glanced around the room to get a take of the atmosphere. Some members of the council sat with skeptical looks, questioning your suggestions, others with furrowed brows of concern.

You spotted your husband, whose eyes followed the map where you were pointing out battle formations. You didn’t expect his eyes to snap up to meet yours, the cloudy storm in them rendering you speechless for a moment.

You stuttered in the midst of your sentence, feeling heat rush to your cheeks. You cursed yourself inwardly when you saw the corner of his mouth perk up. He was laughing at you. No matter how you have brought the room to silence, Cregan still didn’t take you seriously. The embarrassment and humiliation made you all the more self conscious as you thanked the gods that one of the generals, the same one who had stood up for you, took in one of your suggestions and began to talk it over with the council.

“If I may, my lord.” He began to talk to Cregan, whose eyes and condescending smirk were still on you. “The merging of Dornish and Northern tactics might just be the edge we needed.”

Cregan finally tore his watchful eyes away from you, and you took in a deep breath. “Tradition had its place for a reason, don’t you agree, Ser Robert?”

The general nodded, albeit giving the lord a knowing look. “Sometimes, the winds of change bring unexpected allies and advantages.”

Cregans gaze switched back to you. “Aye, sometimes.” His expression unreadable once more.

----------------------------------------------------------

The courtyard buzzed with activity, men-at-arms training for the looming battle. At the center, Cregan Stark and his kingsguard, Ser Jon, clad in their sparring breaches and boots, moved with a fluid grace, each thrust and parry a testament to their combat training. Steel against steel echoed off the ancient stone walls.

Watching from the sides, your eyes traveled appreciatively over Cregan's physique, particularly the way you could see every tensed muscle of his arms, chest, and abdomen as he carried out perfected movements. Beneath your admiration, however, was a desire to humble him after his dismissal of you in the war council. To make him turn red for once.

Walking forward to the table decorated with weaponry, you picked up your favored curved Dornish blade, sharp and deadly, a gift for Cregan from your court.

You slowly approached the sparring duo. "Care for a challenge, my lord?" You were happy your voice didn’t waver.

The knight and lord Stark paused their fight, lowering their weapons, the courtyard going silent. Cregan tilted his head to meet your gaze, a smirk playing on his lips. "You're not dressed for it, my lady. That gown looks too precious to risk-"

Without a word, you grabbed the hem of your gown and tore it, fashioning a makeshift skirt that allowed for movement. You barely felt the cold air as the adrenaline rushing through your veins brought a familiar heat. The gathered crowd murmured around you.

Cregan caught himself staring at you but recovered quickly, chuckling. "Spoiled princess, tearing such fine fabric.”

You exhaled sharply at the comment, feeling again as if you were a misbehaving child being disciplined. You were going to enjoy this. “My lord,” You put up your blade and held your stance.

“Alright,” Cregan held up his sword and got in position. “If you are so eager to prove a point."

You advanced, your blade zooming in the air. The courtyard crowd drew back. The initial clash was swift, Cregan clearly taken aback by surprise. You ducked under his strikes, retaliating with speed. A well-timed move saw Cregan on the ground, the wind knocked out of him. He only stayed that way for a moment, though, quickly getting back up.

"I am every bit the warrior you are," you insisted with conviction as the two of you circled one another.

Cregan recovered quickly. With newfound respect, he launched a fierce counterattack, which you blocked.

Of course, Lord Stark knew nothing of the discipline Sunspear princesses have received, including battle strategy and combat. You were glad you at least got to see the surprise in his features when you dodged his attacks masterfully. Your old teacher back home would be proud.

Blades blurred in the air as you fought. But Cregan's strength and experience began to tell. With a deft move, he had you pinned against the hey covered ground, his hand reaching around your back to put a buffer between you and the ground.

He inched towards you until you were a breath apart, making you breath hitch. "Being a good sparring partner doesn't make you a good warrior, princess," he breathed.

Your cheeks burned, but you were determined to get away victorious. With a sudden twist, you broke free, using your legs to flip him onto the ground as you rolled on top of him. Cregan found himself on his back, your curved blade cool against his throat. He looked up, not just into the eyes of a skilled fighter, but a woman who had quite literally kicked his ass, even if it was by fighting dirty.

You looked down at him, but something made you pause. His wolfish grin was back. His eyes wandered slightly, noting the way your dress had ridden up, scandalously, you realized, revealing your legs. You tried to ignore the feeling that look of his stirred within the pit of your stomach.

"Don't underestimate your opponent," you breathed, fighting a smile. You missed the rush of fighting. Feeling brazen, you leaned in closer until you were sure only he could hear. "You rely too heavily on might. Long-range combat is key to reducing casualties. Thank you for granting me the honor of sparring with you."

With that, you rose gracefully, leaving a dazed Cregan on the floor.

----------------------------------------------------------

The flicker of candlelight lit up your bedchamber in a warm glow. On the table, maps were sprawled out in detail. Concentration etched your features as you calculated troop movements, supply routes, and attacks.

The door creaked open, revealing Cregan Stark, his eyes heavy and ready for sleep after his wash, his hair tied messily behind his ears and falling lazily over his forehead. “I must accompany Ser Robert tomorrow to the front.” He said.

"Look," You pointed to your notes. "This regiment, right here."

He glanced over, brows furrowed. "That's too many men," he said, his tone sharp. "I won't needlessly risk Northern lives."

You met his gaze evenly. "Victory requires the right numbers. And this is the number we need."

"The numbers ‘we’ need," he shot back, echoing your words. "These are people you are sending to their deaths. Offering up thousands of Northern lives like its nothing."

"No!” You stood your ground, chin raised defiantly, though your lower lip began to tremble. "It's almost as though you have forgotten that I am your wife, Cregan Starl! These people, your people, are mine now, too. I value them as much as you do!"

His grey eyes stormed at your words, clearly not expecting you to be so blunt with him.

You stepped closer,your voice finding its confidence. "From the moment I've arrived here. You… you've treated me with nothing but disdain! Dismissing my opinions, underestimating me, and ridiculing me in front of your men. The only respect you showed was when we sparred. Is that the only language you understand?"

His icy facade wavered, guilt flickering in his eyes. "y/n," he began.

But you weren't having any of it. “Please, just listen!"

While you still had his attention, you launched into your strategy, outlining troop movements and battle formations and emphasising the importance of long-range weapons.

“The longbow may work in the windless desserts,” he interrupted. “But the climate here is different.”

“We make use of trebuchets then.” You insisted.

He blinked at that. “Perhaps,”

As the two of you spoke, exchanging ideas back and forth, the plan became clear. Cregan, for the first time, truly listened, no belittling smirks, or jibes.

“With this plan, more lives could be spared. Our men can come home.” You finished, with nothing more to add.

You looked at him for either approval or dissatisfaction. Anything to give you a sign of what he thought. But his face was unreadable as he leaned on the desk, studying your combined notes. His mouth remained in a hard line, but his eyes, plagued by grey storms, were on you.

“Cregan?” You asked, urging him to share his thoughts.

Cregan took a step towards you, closing the distance between you two, his hand lifting your chin up and capturing your lips in a fierce kiss.

You gasped, your limbs temporarily going numb with sudden warmth as his soft lips moved roughly against yours. This man didn’t kiss gently. He was roughened up by his environment and did not hold back. Just as he handn’t on his wedding night. Only now, it was different. Now, he seemed like he actually wanted to be kissing you.

Your hands grasped at his wide shoulder to balance yourself. “Cregan…”

Your initial surprise melted after a moment, giving way to desire, and you responded with equal interest, kissing him back. His hands found your hips and pulled you sharply against himself, tightening around you. You felt hard muscle. The man was all rough edges and cold demeanors, but right now, he was warm. This was the passion you'd yearned for, the connection you'd dreamt of.

Outside of the boarded window, you overheard the sounds of the night, the whistling win, the sound of owls hooting, and echoes of a wolf howling from a distance. Suddenly, Cregan pulled away abruptly, leaving you breathless and disoriented.

“Y/N,” he began, breathing unevenly. “I cannot…”

“What?” Your voice broke, dreading the rejection you knew was coming.

“You regret our union, dont you.” You said finally, tired of waiting for his response.

He looked up at you with furrowed brows. “That is not what I-

You shook your head, eyes on the floor as you tried to calm your racing breaths. “Its alright.” You reassured him, hoping it would make it easier to be truthful with you. “You hate that I'm not a Northerner. That I'm not your equal.”

You watched as his handsome features hardened into anger. As if you had just said something extremely stupid.

He took two steps and backed you against the wall. Gasping, you blinked up to meet stormy grey eyes staring down at you.

"My land is in crisis," he finally said, his voice raw. "I can't afford to be distracted by such… dramatics. If you wished for constant passion and fire in your marriage, I'm afraid you ran out of luck with me, princess."

Before he could say more, and having heard enough, you gathered the maps on the table and shoved them into his hands before storming out of your bedroom door, leaving him alone in the candlelit room, your ego bruised and your emotions in turmoil.

[mattslolita]

okay so idk if you’re taking request cs if ur not im soo sorry but i CRAVEEEE toxic babydaddy chris or matt like imagine yall imagine😔🙌🏾

dilemma - c. sturniolo

in which ... you can't stand chris's new girl in the picture, and you both realize how much you miss each other especially for your daughter. ( baby daddy!chris x black!fem reader )

warnings : angst, toxic!baby daddy!chris, crying, smut, riding, nipple play, unprotected piv ( wrap it freaks ), fluff in the end :3

"𝒏𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊 𝒅𝒐, 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒊 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖."

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ

"alaijah baby, i need you to stay still, please!" you pleaded with your daughter, attempting to grip her unruly curls as she brushed her hair softly.

"mama, when daddy coming?" alaijah babbles, a soft smile on her face as she toys with the bottle of hairspray on the bed which keeps causing her to move around.

a lump forms in your throat at the question, but you attempt to give her a tight-lipped smile anyway. "I'm dropping you off my love, remember? we're getting ice cream on the way."

"ice cweam!" alaijah giggles excitedly, causing her to topple over the oil sheen which tumbles off the bed.

you groan and shake your head, losing the grip you had on her ponytail as you bent down to pick up the oil sheen — the thing that annoyed you was the fact that if it was her dad combing her hair, she was obedient with him. she never gave him problems when he was the one doing her hair, and it made you frustrated.

after picking the bottle up and setting it back down on the bed, you opened candy crush saga on your phone and handed it to your one year old girl, who happily took your phone and sat snug in between your legs.

with a satisfied smile, you begin to brush her hair again, thankfully having no more problems — that is, until your phone rings and you look down to see alaijah's dad trying to facetime you.

"daddy!" alaijah shrieks, a huge smile breaking out over her face.

you didn't want to talk to him, but you weren't going to deprive your daughter — so against your better judgement, you swipe up and accept the call.

"lay, hi sweetheart!" chris smiles at his daughter through the screen, and internally making your heart melt.

"daddy! hi!" alaijah giggles, scrunching her nose cutely as she waves at him through the screen, "miss you!"

"i miss you too, angel," chris says, his beam even brighter at the sight of her, "you ready for this weekend?"

"yah!" alaijah nods happily, poking at the phone, "daddy, say hi to mommy!"

rolling your eyes, you try to move yourself out of the camera's lens especially when you see chris's smug smile on the screen. "hi, momma."

you make a stank face at him and continue doing alaijah's hair, but the one year old makes a pouty face at you when she realizes you didn't answer him.

"mommy, daddy said hi!" alaijah presses, causing you to let out a sigh.

"yeah, daddy says hi," chris smirks, and you can feel your cheeks warm up despite the unwillingness of it all.

"yeah, hey," you said sharply, shooting him a glare through the screen as you're now getting started on alaijah's baby hairs.

"c'mon y/n/n, be a little nicer to daddy," chris continues, causing alaijah to giggle and you to groan.

you put your hands over alaijah's ears gauging a confused expression from her. "shut the fuck up, christopher."

chris just laughs and shakes his head as you uncover alaijah's ears, and she continues to look down at the screen excitedly — you continue watching as your daughter and chris talk for a little bit more, and you can't help but smile a few times at the way chris looked at her with so much love and admiration. it makes you wish you two had never broken up, otherwise you would've been a real family.

you pulled up to chris's house and sighed, looking at alaijah in the rearview mirror — she grinned at you excitedly as she seen that you both had arrived at her dad's house.

you quickly get out of the driver's seat of your car and open the back door on that side, unbuckling alaijah from her car seat and picking her up.

"daddy house!" alaijah beams excitedly, as you close the car door and move to the trunk where her overnight bag was.

"yes, are you excited baby?" you ask her with a smile, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek, and she nodded with a giggle.

her overnight bag was on your shoulder and you internally groaned as you made your way towards the front door of his house — alaijah immediately reached out to press the doorbell, and you could feel her excited nerves radiating from her which made you smile at her again.

you almost dropped your daughter from your hands when you saw what opened the door — a blonde woman who looked to be your age, dressed in skimpy ass clothing which had you heated. you could tell she had extensions in her hair, and you scoffed at how cheap they looked.

"can i help you?" she snarks with an attitude, a hand on her hip as she gives you a once over.

"i know damn well this bitch is not..." you scoff, shaking your head, then looking back up at her, "girl, i'm here to drop off his daughter. who the fuck is you?"

"i'm his girlfriend," she says, boastful smirk on her face, and your heart drops and your face visibly hardens at this.

"did i ask, hoe?" you say to her, taking a step closer causing her to step back slightly, "get the fuck out my way before-"

"what's going on?" chris's voice suddenly comes, causing your blood to boil. damn, he looked so fine.

"you better check your bitch before i do," you say to him, causing the blonde girl to narrow her eyes at you as chris pushes her to the side.

"daddy!" alaijah says excitedly, reaching her arms out for him.

"hi baby!" chris coos to his daughter, taking her from your arms as he brings her close to him, "i missed you!"

you watch the sweet interaction with a yearning heart, but you seeth when you see the way the blonde girl looks at him with just as much adoration as you do — chris looks between both of you with an amused expression, and you could just give him a right hook right now.

"look, my daughter's here, can you both not come for each other?" chris says with raised eyebrows.

you fully turn to face him now, crossing your arms over your chest. he takes your figure up and down unashamedly, and you try to keep yourself from smirking as you realize you still had that effect on him. "that broad better not go nowhere near my baby, christopher."

"still using that full name on me?" chris scoffs with an amused smile, shaking his head. "i'll see you sunday night, alright?"

you quickly leaned up towards alaijah to press a kiss to her cheek, caressing it as she smiled at you. "i'll see you soon baby, okay? have fun."

"bye mommy, i love you!" alaijah tells you.

"i love you more."

without waiting for anyone to say anything else, you make your way towards your car, giving your hips a little extra sway as you knew chris would be drooling as he watched you walk away. you were proven right when you went to get in your car and chris had definitely been watching after you. you smirked as the blonde girl gave him a look of disbelief at the action, and you drove away, still feeling angry upon seeing her in the first place.

sunday night couldn't have come fast enough — you were bored and somewhat lonely without the comfort of your daughter with you, but you were able to run a few errands.

chris texted you and told you he would drop alaijah back off at your house, and you scoffed and only replied with an "ok." you knew it would piss him off, but how could he be the one upset?

soon, a familiar engine lowly rumbled outside of your house and you felt somewhat nervous because you knew it was chris. you heard the car door open then close, and footsteps slowly approach your porch until a knock on the door sounded.

almost too quickly you answered, and your heart warmed at the sight of chris holding your daughter in his arms tightly, her head laid on his neck with her eyes closed.

"she's asleep," chris said, swiping at his nose then nodding towards her, "can i go lay her down?"

you nodded wordlessly, stepping aside so that chris could walk in with her. he knows your house like that back of his hand ( nevermind the fact he used to live there with you! ) — he makes his way to your room, but you don't follow him.

instead, you cross your arms and sit at a barstool at your kitchen table, tapping her fingers along your arm as you wait the treacherous minutes it takes for your ex boyfriend to say his goodbyes to his daughter.

he emerges from your used to be shared room and grins at you, causing you to narrow your eyes at him. "what the fuck are you looking at?"

"i know you're still mad, y/n," chris shrugs nonchalantly, taking slow deliberate steps towards you.

"boy what are you talking about?" you say with a roll of your eyes, crossing her arms tighter on your chest.

"you're mad about lexi," chris says, egging it on, as he knows you're seething right now.

"oh, so the bitch got a name now, too?" you say, scoffing and shaking your head.

"you mad cause i'm fucking another bitch?" chris smirks, and you whip your head up at him at this remark.

without any warning, you stand up and quickly walk over to chris, yanking him by the arm and pulling him towards the couch in the living room — she shoves the man back on it, immediately going to straddle him as he looks up at her with a smirk and an amusement in his eyes.

"y'know lay's asleep, right?" chris tsks, rubbing the sides of her bare thighs which caused goosebumps to raise on her skin.

"then you better shut the fuck up," you say.

you smashed your lips onto chris's, having been craving this feeling again for so long — his hands immediately went to grope your ass which prompted a gasp to leave your lips and chris to slip his tongue inside your mouth.

you grinded down against his hard on, which you felt poking through his jeans as it so desperately wanted to be free. never breaking eye contact with him, you lifted your his shirt above your head and threw it behind you, and chris went to unclip your bra causing your perfectly round breasts to spill out.

"fuck, i missed seeing your pretty tits, ma," chris groans, immediately attaching his lips to your left tit whilst he massages the other.

"mhm chris," you breathe out, throwing your head back as he switches, giving attention to the other tit.

you grind down on him again, making the both of you moan at the contact. "pull your pants down."

you get up and take your shorts off, also giving chris enough time to slip out of his jeans and boxers, revealing his large, veiny cock which already leaked with precum — your mouth salivates at the sight.

you pull down your panties revealing your wet cunt, to which chris lets out a groan and strokes himself, but you narrow your eyes at him and smack his hand away, going to hover over his cock.

your hands find their way to chris's shoulders, latching onto them as you slowly sink yourself onto him, pulling a moan from the both of you.

"fuck, you're so big!" you whine, the stretch burning being that you haven't felt him inside you in a long time.

"so tight baby," chris groans in your ear, guiding you with his hands.

once he's fully inside you, you begin to move back and forth on his cock, the veins in his hands now prominent with the grip he held on your sides. "fuck baby, just like that!"

"you feel so good, oh my gosh," you moan out, throwing your head as you pick up your rhythm, bouncing up and down on his cock.

chris meets you halfway, thrusting up into you pulling multiple whines from you as he hits your sweet spot over and over again.

"fucking me so good ma, i missed your pussy," chris moans, leaving sloppy kisses to your neck.

"m'close, christopher," you moan out, keeping your steady pace.

"yeah?" chris groans in your ear, "come on baby, let go fa me."

it doesn't take you long before your orgasm comes crashing through you, your juices spilling over chris's cock and a loud moan of his name falls past your lips.

this sends him over the edge too, and hot spurts of his seed spill inside of you, mixing your juices together. he helps both of you ride out your orgasm, then you quickly get off of him to catch your breath.

he pulls you back towards him and shoves a finger inside your pussy to keep his cum in there, eliciting a gasp from you as you look at him with disbelief whilst he grins at you.

"what the fuck?" you gasp out.

"need my seed inside you, so you know who's yours," chris grins at you.

he takes his finger out then stands up, grabbing your hand and leading you towards the bathroom — he wordlessly grabs a towel and wets it, and you can feel tears from in your eyes as he does so.

none of this meant it was going to last long — he was going right back to the same boyfriend he was before, which was the ultimate reason you broke up in the first place. but you couldn't help the way you still loved him.

"please don't cry," chris says, breaking you out of the trance you didn't realize you were in.

"why shouldn't i, chris?" you sniffle, as he wipes your legs delicately, "it's not like we're getting back together."

chris could feel his heart break at the words you said, causing him to hang his head — it was his fault, and he couldn't believe he'd ever let someone like you go. he was so scared of fucking up, that he fucked up the best thing that ever happened to him.

"i miss you," you admit.

"i missed you even more, y/n," chris says, lifting your chin so that you could see in his eyes. and for once, there was a trace of sincerity in those blue depths. "i can't believe i broke our family up like this. i fucked up really bad, baby. but i want us to be a family."

"you mean that, baby?" you look up at him with a smile, and he wipes the tears away from your eyes, nodding.

"of course, ma. i love you so much."

he leans down and places a kiss to your lips — but this time it was sweet, but yearning. he missed both of his girls, and he was glad he had them back.

after cleaning you up chris grabs your hand again and leads you towards the bedroom, where alaijah is sound asleep in the middle of where you both used to lay.

you climb on side and chris on the other, and as if sensing the presence of her dad, alaijah moves towards chris like a magnetic touch, and he puts his arm around his daughter looking down at her with nothing but love and admiration.

you smile at him with your head propped up on the pillow, and he looks at you — he affectionately taps your nose, causing you to giggle as you take his hand, placing a soft kiss to it.

"goodnight, baby," you tell him, and he leans in to place another kiss to your lips.

"goodnight, my love," chris says back.

you get under the covers with them, moving close towards alaijah in the process to wrap your own arm around the girl, too — chris places another sweet kiss to both of your foreheads, finally at peace knowing he was with his number one girls again.

( lilly's section 💌 )

two fics in one night, who is she😳🙏? i hope y'all enjoy this, i love u so much muah💌.

@luverboychris @muwapsturniolo @prettiest-poision @mattsturniolosleftnut @mrssturnioloo @guccifrog @junnniiieee07 @astrowh0r3 @v33angel @ilovechrissturniolo1 @e1ias3 @l0akkzz @hysteria-things @eyeliketoeatpoosay @sturn777 @stasiesturn @prettypinkprincess15 @breeloveschris @summerssover @mayhem-72 @riasturns @chrissturniolossidehoe @moonk1ss3d @v33angel @h3arts4harry @stargirll567 @bitchydragonparadise @heartsforchrisandmatt @pepsienthusiasts @tillies33ssss @thenickgirl @sturnprime @summerssover @k4di333

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

Please...

Wanda X Reader 18+

Summary- “Please,” she once again begs, “ I want you not him. Make me yours, please.” Wanda removes her head from your shoulder to look at your eyes with a new look of desire and lust. She somehow moves her lips closer to yours without them touching, knowing that if they touched, neither of you would be able to stop.

Warnings/Tags: Smut 18+ MDNI, Implied/reference cheating, Fluff and Smut, Strap ons, Rough sex, Dom/sub undertones, Multiple orgasms, Fingering

This is an old fic I found from my ao3 so the writing quality isn't that good, apologies but I don't have the time to improve it.

General Master List

W/c- 1.5k

“We need to stop,” Wanda quietly whispered as her lips ghosted yours. You currently had her pinned to the wall, a knee between her legs, yours mouths millimetres apart as you panted against each other. “Vision is going to propose to me,” she painfully said while closing her eyes to avoid the look on your face.

“That didn’t stop you from proposing that I fuck you last night,” you murmur at the shell of her ear, hearing her breath hitch at your words. “Especially in the bed you share with him. The father of your children, the man who doesn’t deserve, never deserved you.”

“Please…” she whimpers placing her head on your shoulder as she still remain trapped between you and the wall.

“Please what?” you softly say, “Leave? Tell me to go and I’ll go. You know I’d never hurt you.”

“Please,” she once again begs, “ I want you not him. Make me yours, please.” Wanda removes her head from your shoulder to look at your eyes with a new look of desire and lust. She somehow moves her lips closer to yours without them touching knowing that if they touched, neither of you would be able to stop.

“Are you sure?” you faintly say while staring into those green eyes you could get lost in. “There’s no going back,” you warn as there’s a lot she’s giving up or changing for you. She answers your question by crashing her lips to yours like she’s been starved of this intimacy for years. A low groan escapes your lips as her hands wrap around the back of your neck to keep you in place. Your hands find her hips and press her more into the wall making her moan. Suddenly you lift her up and hold her against the wall as her legs wrap around your waist, the friction against her clothed core making her break away from the kiss with a gasp. Threading her hands into your hair as you pepper kisses along her jaw and neck, you push off the wall with one hand and move around your apartment. You stumble through the living room while stubbing your toe making her chuckle against your skin and eventually make it towards your bedroom. Well your bedroom door.

“Fuck,” she gasps out as you push her against the door and practically rip her shirt off her body. Her hands fumble for the end of your shirt and eventually pulls it over your head. “Bedroom. Now,” she rasps out between heated kisses making you fumble with the door handle. Quickly, the door swings open making you almost fall into the room but you keep steady with the help of her magic. You move towards the bed and gently place her on there before swiftly climbing on top of her and crashing your lips to hers once again.

“Tell me what you want,” you mutter along the skin of her neck as you make your way down to her bra covered chest. You nip at the top of her breasts making her back arch giving you the perfect opportunity to unclasp her bra before throwing it somewhere in your room.

“Fuck me please,” she whimpers out while her nails scratch down your back making you groan around one of her nipples. You gaze upwards to see her eyes closed in pleasure as you continue to suck and lick at her sensitive flesh.

“You have to be more specific love,” you taunt out while letting go of a breast with a loud pop. A quiet whine leaves her lips at your words as you know she gets embarrassed asking you for things but you also know how wet it makes her. “Come on love, use your words.”

“Please fuck me with your fingers, mouth, cock! Just fuck me please!” She whimpers beneath you and you move back up her body to kiss her with this new sense of desire. You pull back slightly to pant against her lips while looking up to see her green eyes blown with lust and want causing a smirk to appear on your face.

“I’m going to ruin you for anyone else,” you purr out while moving back down her body, leaving marks now as you don’t care if Vision sees them. “No one will be able to fuck you as good as me,” you murmur at the waist band of her jeans. In one quick motion, you pull down her jeans and underwear in one go leaving her bare beneath you and to gasp as the cold air connecting with her exposed core.

“Holy shit,” Wanda moans out as the feeling of your hot breath causing a wave of arousal to wash over her. You don’t waste anytime teasing her as you both just want each other. You attach your lips to her clit making her moan loudly and run a finger up and down her folds, gathering her wetness. Before sliding your finger in you pull away from her soaking cunt and look at her directly in the eyes while sucking her juices off your finger, moaning at the taste of her.

“You taste delicious my love,” you mumble out before returning to her clit and sliding a finger into her dripping core. A low groan leaves her lips as you slowly thrust your finger in and out of her before adding another one. You can feel her walls slightly stretch around them and decide to add another one making her back arch once again. You pick up the pace of pumping your fingers in and out of her causing her to whimper at the feeling while also moaning into her, the vibrations sending a different pleasurable feeling through her.

“Please, I’m so close,” she begs, her accent thick and sultry. You smirk into her core before sucking and licking harder at her clit while curling your fingers at her g-spot making her instantly cry out. You feel her legs shaking besides your head before moving to wrap around your back and neck, holding you in place as she crashes head first into an orgasm. Her whole body tenses and she lets out a string of moan before going limp in your hold as she recovers from her first orgasm.

“Good girl,” you praise while gently pressing your lips to hers, a whine escaping her at the taste of herself. The kiss remains gentle until her hips start grinding up into yours making you groan at the contact. You pull away abruptly to strip yourself of your clothes and you quickly grab the strap on from your bedside table. “Do you still want this?” you mutter against her lips while bracing yourself on one arm above her.

“Yes, please just fuck me,” her tone desperate as you pull on the toy as quick as you can. Her nails return to you back leaving red marks as you slowly press the toy into her. As soon as she’s adjusted to the size, you start to thrust your hips into her and lean down to take a nipple back into your mouth. You switch breasts before pulling back to sit on your knees, moving her legs to go over your shoulders making her scream out in pleasure. “Fuck right there please!” she groans out as you snap your hips into her repeatedly, the force of your thrusts making the whole bed shake. With how brutal you are fucking her, it doesn’t take long for Wanda to once again come but this time you don’t let her ride out her high before pushing her over the edge once again.

“How pathetic must he be if a piece of plastic can please you better?” you tease out while slowing your thrusts down so she can catch her breath. “And I didn’t even need to touch your clit,” you mutter while kissing along her chest and moving upwards to meet her lips. “You did so well for me my love,” you whisper while kissing her forehead, still buried deep inside her. “Can you do one more?” You feel her nod against you but you remind her to use her words.

“Yes,” she breathlessly says and that’s all you need to flip the two of you over. A sinful moan leaves her lips as she straddles your waist, the toy never leaving her cunt as you switched positions. Slowly, you guide her hips on your lap as you move to sit up so you can kiss her once again.

“That’s it, that’s my good girl,” you praise her again and again as you notice how her face flushes even more at the praise. Gently, you move your hand to circle her sensitive clit and help her reach her final orgasm of the night. You muffle the moans that escape her before carefully rolling her onto her back and pulling out of her. Swiftly, you go to the bathroom to grab a wash cloth and help her with aftercare before joining her in the bed.

“I love you,” she sleepily murmurs while nuzzling her face in your neck, arms wrapped around your body, legs tangled under the sheets.

“I love you too,” you whisper back before drifting off to sleep, holding her as close as possible.