#godless x reader

[follow-my-literature]

CALLING ALL READERS. I NEED YOUR HELP

VOTING ENDS IN 6 HOURS - as of 2:51 on Dec 28

I'm back from my hiatus, and I've decided to reorganize my writings. I have pulled them all and have picked the best ones to keep. Now, I need you to pick which story you want to read first. Make sure to check out the synopsis before you make your choice.

I do apologize, there was an issue with the last poll I had created. Please if you voted before, just take a moment to revote.

*Poll is open for O N E W E E K *One-shots are not included in this list.

all story synopses are located here.

To those who are seeing this and don't enjoy "𝕩 Reader" fanfictions:

I apologize. I just want to reach as many people as possible. I have been away for a long time. Perhaps suggest another way for me to tag if it bothers you since this wasn't an issue when I used to write.

Again:

all story synopses are located here.

VOTING IS OVER.

First story will be

A Palace Full of Cranks

[the-fiction-witch]

Lil Lady P2

Media - Godless Character - Whitey Winn Couple - Whitey X Reader Reader - Y/n Winn Rating - Sweet af Word Count - 2615

Warnings for childbirth!

Part One

As I finished knocking on the last fence post, I felt the exhaustion in my bones and my sweat trickling down my face. I removed my hat and used it to wipe off the sweat while taking a deep breath of satisfaction. I looked around and saw my jumper resting on the rocking chair on the porch, where I had left it before starting my work. My sleeves were rolled up to my elbows, and I wore a pair of suspenders to keep my pants up while working.

Taking a moment to look over the place, I admired our little one-room farmhouse with its small porch and rocking chair out front, where I often spent my evenings drinking lemonade and enjoying the sunset. I had built a small, sheltered stable to the side of the house where Ted, our beloved horse, resided. The crop field was to the side of the house, and I had planted a variety of crops. A small pen full of chickens was nearby, where we got our daily dose of fresh eggs, and I had marked out an area for a well to provide us with fresh water.

It wasn't much, but it was home, and I loved it. I saw so much potential in this place, and I couldn't wait to see it come to fruition. However, I had to accept that I was just one man, used to a cushy office job as a deputy. So, I continued to work hard and make the most of what I had, knowing that every little improvement would bring me closer to my dreams.

I turned my head towards the sound of the porch creaking and my eyes lit up with delight. Standing before me was Y/n, the love of my life, who had always been beautiful, but today she looked even more breathtaking. She stepped onto the porch, her small house slippers barely making a sound on the wooden planks. She was wearing a white cotton nightie that clung to her curves in all the right places, and a dressing gown wrapped around her shoulders, which accentuated her baby bump. Her Y/h/C hair was styled in a long braid that cascaded down her back, and her sweet Y/E/C eyes looked towards me with a warm smile. I couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder and admiration as I gazed at her.

"Well Hiya Lil lady, what can I do ya for Mrs Winn?" I tipped my hat to her,

"Very funny Mr Winn," she laughs,

"what are ya doin' out of bed?" I went over leaning on the porch railing,

"strechin' my legs,"

"I know you're gettin' a lil cabin fever but go on back to bed you need to keep off them legs till baby comes," I told her,

"I'll be alright for five minutes whitey," she pleads,

"Alright but not a second more," I told her,

She nodded with a happy smile so I moved closer running my hands over her bump and peppering it with kisses, so she rests her hands in my hair.

"Umm Hiya lil baby." I cooed, "You are gettin' so big,"

"He's getting ready to come out,"

"I know he is, Lil baby must be gettin' excited after seein' that nice crib I made him,"

"Yes... the crib,"

"What?"

"Nothing,"

"Something wrong with my woodwork?"

"...No whitey," she chuckled,

"Good, besides the first couple weeks, we'll just wanna cuddle him up in our arms,"

"I'm sure we will," she chuckled, "what have you been doing all morning anyway?"

"I did the fence like ya asked," I told her showing off my work, "Ain't I just the handsome, rugged, livin' of the land hubby ya always dreamed of lil lady?" I cuddled her from behind my chin on her shoulder and my hands on her belly,

"Yes," she smiled, "Whitey?"

"Mhm?"

"Where's the gate?"

I then looked around the whole fence and noticed, "God damn it! forgot the bloody fence." I sighed,

"You gonna have to start again,"

"...Nah I'll just make a hole where the gate needs to be," I shrug heading down to get my tools,

"Ah yes, the handsome, rugged, livin' of the land hubby I always dream of, full of solutions,"

"It's why ya married me," I smirked,

"Come on lil one, let's get you something nice to eat," she said heading back inside,

"Alright, ya get yourself back to bed while I get this done."

"Will do!" she calls,

"Love ya!"

"Love you too!"

I sat outside, breathing in the crisp evening air as I slowly rocked back and forth in my cherished rocking chair. The endless void of darkness that surrounded me was only broken by the soft glow of the lantern by the door, its light the only source of illumination for miles. The moon was absent tonight, and the only sounds that could be heard were the occasional clunks and clatters from the chickens and the stable. Despite the stillness, I found it comforting out here. It was our own little slice of paradise, secluded from any troubles or concerns that may exist elsewhere. Our humble abode was a place where we could build and raise our family, and I cherished every moment spent in its peaceful embrace.

There are moments when I find myself overcome by a sense of longing for my former home in Labelle. I miss the familiar faces of Bill and Maggie, the old guy who ran the local saloon, where I spent many a pleasant evening - sipping on a cold beer, chatting with friends, and enjoying the lively atmosphere. I also miss the convenience of having a dry goods store nearby, where I could easily pick up some orange drops.

Despite these feelings, I know that our move was the right decision for all of us. I can no longer think solely of myself since I have a wife and a baby to care for now. This new chapter of our lives will bring new opportunities and challenges, and I'm excited to see what the future holds for us.

Speaking of which, I jolted almost falling out of my chair and I heard a scream from inside, my first thought was immediately either Spider. or Snake. So I bolted inside and saw Y/n in bed clutching her stomach. Oh fuck... it's labour!

"Y/n lil lady are you alright!"

"DO I look alright!"

"How long did this start?"

"I've been feeling strange all day, but It's only gotten worse, but now-" She was cut off by her own scream,

"Ohh okay," I gulped, "You're not meant to go into labour for another week, doctor ain't coming out will Sunday,"

"Well, doctor or not Baby is coming whitey!"

"Ohhhhhh fuck. shit. fuck. fuck. Okay... if I saddle Ted up fast and ride like a mad man I can be to the nearby down in an hour grab the doctor and come back another hour-" I began but another scream erupted me,

"We don't have two hours whitey!"

"We don't?" I asked and my blood ran cold as she pulled away the sheets tears straining her face as we were far from a doctor being called on, "Ohh shit."

"Whitey... you-"

"No. No. No. I can't-"

"Whitey you have to!" she cried,

"I can't deliver a baby!"

"Well I can't do it can I!"

"I know... I... I don't know what to do!"

"You read the baby book,"

"I skimmed it!"

She screamed again, "You put it in there whitey! just do it backwards!"

"I don't think me puttin' my dick into this situation will help,"

"Whitey!"

"Okay! okay!... don't worry lil lady I will figure this out," I told her kissing her head, I grabbed the baby book, I grabbed a blanket, towels, a large bowl, and a glass and bottle of whiskey. Putting everything at the end of our bed, I grabbed the glass and opened the bottle pouring myself a glass but before I could drink it she grabbed it and shot it. "Y/n!" I almost laughed at her,

"What!"

"You're pregnant!"

"He's leaving. and I'm in agony. Double shot." She demanded handing me the glass back, I didn't argue and poured her more before taking a swig myself for confidence. I flicked through the book and set things up as best I could based on the descriptions. And also doing my best not to get freaked out or vomit but... it's terrifying I think I deserve some credit.

It was hard to watch her in so much pain, but I did everything I could for her trying my best to make it easy she had tossed the glass and was now just swigging right from the bottle which did seem to help her. And then it was all so sudden, her screams became violent as she cursed and swore my very existence, and then I saw a head, then shoulders, then the whole baby was out, so I scooped him up in my blanket as fast as I could and handed him to Y/n without even thinking. For a moment I think we both just reverted to pure instincts.

And suddenly it was calm.

And what a sight it was, Y/n sat up in our bed, our little baby boy in her arms his face against her chest. She had the sweetest tears in her Y/E/C eyes, her Y/h/C hair matted and messy, both of them covered in fluids and blood but I went over and kissed his little head cradling them both gently in my arms.

"I've never been so happy, he's perfect,"

"He is... our perfect lil boy,"

"Our sweet lil boy," I cooed, "There is nothin' I wouldn't do for ya, and for him. I swear it Y/n. I love ya both so much,"

"I love you too whitey," We shared a soft kiss and I helped her through the rest of the birthing stuff making sure everything was as it should be before I got my turn I held his little body in my arms and I was so smitten, he had little Y/E/C eyes just like her, but some shaggy blonde hair like me. And I loved him the moment he came into this world, I nuzzled my head against him like I had so often when he was inside her, and it even felt the same.

"My son... my sweet lil boy,"

"cosy?" she asks as she lays in bed resting after everything,

"Very, ya think of a name yet?"

"Lucas," She smiled,

"Lucas? Awww lil Lucas. I love it." I smiled, "Lil Lucas Winn. That's a big strong name for a big strong boy," I cooed,

"It is, a big strong farm boy."

I chuckled, "A big strong farm boy, with a mama and a hubby who love each other very very much," I kissed her head, "Rest Lil lady, I got him for a while,"

"You sure?"

"I'm fine, he's so lil how much trouble can he be?"

"Famous last words," she giggled, "Goodnight WHitey,"

"Goodnight Y/n," I smiled, and she was out almost like a light, "Guess it's just you and me for a Lil while Lucas. I promise ya I am goin' to take care of ya and give ya the best life in the world."

As I stood outside on a hot day, taking care of the chickens, Y/n was busy feeding Lil Lucas inside the house. I noticed one of the chickens, which I had nicknamed 'Pecky', was trying to peck my boots off, so I had to tell it off. I carefully set the feed down out of reach and made my way to the porch for a moment of relief. Suddenly, I spotted two horses heading our way, and my heart began to race. I wasn't sure who they could be or what their intentions were. I quickly headed back inside to grab my guns, just in case.

Soon enough, the horses approached the fence, and I could see that it was Bill Mcnue and Y/n's father. So I stood my ground,

"Mornin' pleasant day for some farmwork," Bill said,

"That it is," I answered,

"You're corns lookin' a little wilted, you need some water on it quick."

"Rain's comin' tomorrow. No point water loggin' it. Besides I ain't finished the well yet."

"Alright, you best get that done."

"Yeah, I better. what'd ya want?"

"Course, I uhh I'm Sherrif Bill Mcnue from down Labelle,"

"I know who ya are." I snapped back never lowering my guns,

"We're looking for the Winn Farm, We in the right place?"

"Ya are."

"...Whitey?"

"Hiya Bill,"

"God damn- I barely even-"

"So you're the fucker who knocked up my daughter and bolted with her-" Her father began but I clocked my gun,

"Hey! I know ya wanna beat my ass for what I did. But you're in my neck of the woods now Mr. This is my farm and I paid a cool five dollars for that very bit of land ya standin' on, so as it is ya trespassin' on my hand. and as an Ex Lawman myself I know for a fact ya come over that fence I am well within my rights to shoot ya between the eyes. Ain't that so Bill?"

"He's right." Bill nodded,

"where's my daughter?" He asked,

"Y/n's restin',"

"I wanna see her! I wanna see her take her home!"

"You have no right-"

"She's my daughter! I have every right to take her home!" he tried to come over the fence,

"Not anymore ya don't!" I warn, "We got married in a local chapel just an hour's ride from here, lovely lil place I recommend it. We're married, Mr and Mrs Winn legally all states, all rules, all laws, she ain't just a daughter ya can take home Mr, This is her home now."

"Let me see my daughter!"

"She. Is. Restin'."

"Let me see her!"

"Will ya quit ya shouting!" I yelled back, "We have a sleepin' baby in the house, and a woman still recoverin' from labour keep ya fuckin' voice down." I demanded.

"Let. me. See. My. Daughter."

Luckily the door opened, and Y/n came out with Lil Lucas in her arms, she saw him and her face turned sour, she kissed my cheek and bounced Lucas on her hip,

"Hiya Daddy,"

"You really did it... you stupid little girl." He tossed his head back and forth, "You are coming home right now."

"I am home Daddy, I'm a married woman, with a son, with chores to do, I am not coming back with you Daddy. I'm staying here. Where I belong. Now Lucas has just woken up from his nap, I would be more than happy to let you in for a cup of coffee, the same offer applies to you, Bill. And you are welcome to come back and visit Lucas and us as much as you want. But this is my home. And if you can't accept that, then I'm cutting you off from me, my husband, my home, and your grandson."

"A cup of coffee sounds mighty nice Miss- Ohh Sorry Mrs Y/n Winn," Bill chuckled as he came through the gate,

"Choices is yours, Daddy," she shrugged,

"You own this place?" He asked,

"We do," I nodded,

"Baby's happy?"

"Happy, healthy, drinking milk like it's going out of fashion."

"you got food? clothes? money?"

"As much as we need,"

"Farms the plan?"

"It's the way we're goin',"

"You takin' care of my little girl?"

"That I am sir, And our little boy," I smiled giving them each a kiss,

"... Alright," He sighed climbing down from his horse and opening the gate, "You really got to finish digging that well out,"

"Ohh he knows," Y/n gives me a side eye,

"You guys can tie your horses up in the stable with Ted. I'll get the kettle going." I smiled,

Of course, Bill and her father came over happily to see little Lucas, so I gave her and him another kiss, "Back in a sec lil lady,"

"see you soon hubby," she cooed,

"Just a moment lil boy," I cooed tapping his nose before I went in to make coffee, 

[lostsunlight]

CHAPTER 13 - TRES AUTUEM FACIES PRAENUNTIUS

childe x reader, wc: 7.1k, masterlist, Ao3

cw: nsfw, violence, murder

The next morning came all too quickly. A ray of sunlight hit Childe directly in the eyes, he rolled over and pulled the blankets over his head to block out the world for a few sacred minutes. 

You smiled and carded a hand through his hair, he tilted his head a little to the left. Childe could have sworn he was seeing an angel, soft sunlight illuminating your form, sheets pooling at your hips. 

Childe rolled onto his back and you shuffled closer, the hand scratching his head trailed down to trace his jawline. You admired his freckles, the small nicks in his skin from battle. You moved your thumb over his lower lip and then down his chin and neck. 

You leaned in and whispered against his neck “ Il n'y a pas de douceur comme ton péché ”

“тогда приходи и купайся в нем, дорогая ” He mumbled back, finger tracing down your spine. 

You straddled him and slipped his shirt up over his stomach. Following every scar in an intricate pattern upwards. He gripped your hips to steady you. You traced up his abdomen to the dip in his clavicle. You were leaning over him, chest nearly touching his. 

You traced the scar across his chest, the one he got when he first met you. He traced the scar across your upper thigh, from when you had made your escape.

You opened your lips, inevitably with a million questions. Childe cut you off before the first word. “I know there's a lot to talk about but can we forget the world outside exists? Even it its just while I’m in your arms”

You nodded “Okay” You closed the gap and sweetly kissed him. He held you close to him as you tasted him. He was tangy, with a hint of iron. You hadn’t intended on it being anything more than a kiss but you found your will to break away from him quickly fading.

In the end he was the one to break away, he looked at you with an expression you couldn't quite place. He used his thumb to pry up one side of your top lip, you opened your mouth ever so slightly and he traced your canine before pressing down on your tongue. You sucked and he made an unintelligible sound. He pulled it out and dragged it down your chin, leaving a trail of spit in its wake. He angled your jaw up to access your neck, kissing it in a way that made your core pulse. 

He rucked your slip up so it bunched around your waist, you finished the job for him, pulling it off and throwing it somewhere on the floor. You removed his shirt in turn leaving the both of you in nothing but underwear. He traced the edge of your breast, you sucked in a breath. 

He cupped them, swiping across your nipple, you let out a small whine. He grinned and repeated the action, causing you to grind down. You let out another whimper when you felt his hard length beneath you. He stopped for a second as pleasure shot through his body. 

You ground down again, arching your back. He took your nipple in his mouth and gently sucked. You moaned as one hand supported your back and one pushed you down. He bucked his hips up. Your hands rested on his shoulders as your pussy fluttered, desperately trying to find leverage. 

He stopped to get some air as one hand continued to explore your body, moving lower and lower. The other still circling your nipple. His thumb played with the edge of your panties, you lifted your hips up so he could slide them off. 

You moved down and peeled his boxers, blushing at the sight of his cock. You wrapped your hand around it and gave it a few slow pumps. You looked up through your lashes to see him looking at you with an endearing intensity, his chest rising and falling with anticipation. 

You gave it a few licks and he sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth. You move back up slowly, intent on teasing him. He lies back as you position yourself, teasing your pussy with the tip of his cock, wetness making it easy.

“Любовник, be gentle” He asks, still sore, he didn't know how much his body could take. He wished he was the one talking the lead.

“I’ll be as gentle as the breeze” you replied, sinking onto his cock. You let out a sound somewhere between a huff and a moan, it sounded like the holiest melody Childe had ever heard.

You bit your lip and rested your hands on his chest, trying to get used to the feeling of being so full, his cock hitting all the right spots inside of you. After a second you lift yourself up, relishing in the feeling. 

You make tentative eye contact with Childe. You could melt in the sanctity of his gaze - a blush spread across his cheeks, his mouth slightly parted, small moans tumbling out. He skirts his palms up your thighs until he reaches the apex, right below your hip bones. You sink back down, riding him like you were made for it. 

You placed your hands on top of his and then tugged trying to pull him up. He obliged, wrapping his arms around you and drawing you in for a kiss. He finds your clit and you gasp into his mouth at the feeling. Your cunt squeezed around him.

“I-I’m close” you whined, burying your head in the crook of his neck. He lay back down, knowing if he kept fucking you like that he would overexert himself, he would go too hard and as much as he wanted to see that he knew his body couldn’t handle it. 

He kept rubbing your clit as you reached the edge. you sunk fully onto him, knowing you couldn’t fuck him through your orgasm. You moaned a little louder than usual letting the feeling envelop you. It was electric, making your mind go blank for a moment. 

Your legs were getting sore but you were determined to take his orgasm from him. You picked up the pace ever so slightly. Childe lay beautifully underneath you, hands fisting the sheets, brows knitted in pleasure. 

He moans deeply, flinging an arm across his face “C-Cumming” 

Quickly you lifted yourself off him and gave him a few more pumps. He finished, white-hot ropes of cum splattering across your stomach. You kissed Childe again, lost in his being. 

 ✧

After the two of you cleaned up, you went to the kitchen to make breakfast. Childe took the stove while you chopped some bacon

“That was surprisingly gentle compared to last time” You joked 

“Don’t expect me to be so nice next time” he quipped back

“Next time?” Your raised a brow

Childe just smirked. “This morning was a nice surprise, but what were you doing in my bed?”

“You don't remember? you had a nightmare, woke up screaming. You asked me to stay when I came in. Something about a ‘Celestial Narwhal’ again” You frowned, moving over to place the bacon in the pan, it spat back at you

He frowned “No, I don't. I don't even remember a nightmare” He cracked an egg into a bowl and used a fork to break the yolk

“I still have questions about last night, you nearly electrocuted me you were so mad” He poured the egg mix into the pan with the bacon

Childe sighed deeply “Signoria got the gnosis, Zhongli is Rex Lapis and I was used by the both of them”

“So Rex Lapis lives in mortal form now? Why?” You asked, pulling two plates out from the cupboard and placed a piece of bread on each

“Retirement, He didn’t technically abandon Liyue, rather he’s leaving it in the hands of humanity” he snorted, dividing up the scrambled eggs 

You leaned on the counter, trying to think. Wasn’t it his sworn duty to protect Liyue, man couldn’t defend against Celestia, at least not from what you’ve seen. Why not pass the torch to another god?

“And Signoria? Another Harbinger?” You picked up one of the plates and folded the bread in half, taking a bite.

“Yeah, the eighth, ‘Fair Lady’ is a dubious title at best. She’s the one who got Barbatos’ gnosis as well” he grumbled, if looks could kill this woman would be nothing but ashes.

You swallowed "So she's making you do her dirty work?” 

“No, The Tsaritsa sent me for both assignments. She has her reasons, I’m sure the others have hundreds of years on me, of course she wouldn't expect me to pull this off on my own. I'm a warrior not a diplomat.”

“Then why make you a Harbinger?” You took another bite

“I don't have an answer for that, maybe because I’ll best serve as her weapon but the title of Harbinger requires me to act like a diplomat, I don't know. But next time, next time I'll deliver the gnosis straight to her feet myself.

You pick up his mask, “Then go out and prove yourself, Tartaglia. You may not be the most cunning, but when it comes down to the battlefield - you would leaving most of them dead”

He attached it to the side of his head “I will get stronger, just you wait”

 ✧

Baizhu had sent you outside the city to restock herbs, unfortunately for you most of the ones you needed seemed to be around ruins littered with Ruin Guards. You kept your catalyst drawn as you slowly made your way around the perimeter. 

You had thought that you had made it away until you heard the mechanical rumbling of a ruin guard activating. Your entire body tensed as you whipped around. It was your turn to dance.

You drew water droplets from the air, forming a ring of daggers around your head and fired them at the Guard. Circling around the mechanical abomination , making sure to keep your distance to avoid its wide ranged strikes.

You repeated the same attack, just focusing on trying to survive. It stilled, bracing backwards, turrets perched on its body began to glow, aimed directly for you. Thinking fast you ran, forwards, sliding under the guard as the projectiles hit the ground with a sickening bang. You clenched your eyes shut at the sound. You stumbled up to face the back of the guard. 

Drawing your power you created two streams of water twining around the Ruin Guard, briefly immobilising it. You pull in the pressure of the two streams of water and then release it. Causing it to stumble back a step.

It swung at you, knocking you to the side, you tumbled and skidded in the dirt, by some small miracle you landed upright. Clambering back to your feet you tried to regain your sense of surroundings. Your shoulder throbbed in pain.

You had to disable it somehow. How had Tartaglia done it? An arrow to the eye right?

Having nothing to lose you made another dagger and aimed for its eye, it flew past splashing on the stone behind it. You tried again, moving backwards as it advanced menacingly towards you. This time the hydro dagger hit its mark, it came tumbling down. 

It was only a matter of time until it reactivated. Concentrating, you wove a hydro sword from droplets. Approaching it you gathered all your strength and struck it.  Once. Twice. Thrice - the last strike plunging directly into its eye. It let out its last cry and it lay felled before you. Its body disintegrating into nothing more than black smoke flecked with red ashes.

You collapsed to the ground on one knee, hydro sword holding you up. You panted, trying to draw enough air to satisfy your burning lungs. The sword broke into droplets wetting the stone underneath you, causing you to fall further down. You felt no satisfaction from the fight, rather relief you made it out alive.

In the distance you could swear you heard the faint voice of a child. “Hey! Hey you! Come look at this!”

Slowly you drew yourself back up, you stuffed the herbs you had collected in the bag Baizhu had given you. Reforming another hydro dagger just in case you stalked over to one of the inactive Ruin Guards. Behind one of them you found a small child, no older than six clambering over its arms. 

“Have you ever seen something so brilliant?!” he exclaimed with great enthusiasm.

Shielding your eyes from the sunlight you could see the boy was wearing foreign clothes, perhaps Snezhnayan. He had flaming red hair and large blue eyes sparking in the sun. He bore a striking resemblance to Childe.

“You should get down from there, you could hurt yourself boy. Ruin Guards are dangerous things” you exclaimed back 

“Nuh-Uh, Mister Cyclops would never hurt me! And what kind of a stupid name is ‘Ruin Guard' anyway?” He sat on its shoulder rather precariously. 

“Mister Cyclops?” You asked, that was a creature from old legend.

“That's what my brother called them!” He grinned widely, showing a gap-toothed smile “He’s the best toy seller in the world! He's working at the Institute for Toy Research in Liyue. That's where all Mister Cyclops’ come from”

“What's your name?” You ask, trying to get this kid back home to safety

“I’m Teucer! I came all the way from Snezhnaya on a boat to find my brother in Liyue. I can’t find him though…” He frowned

“You came all the way from Snezhnaya alone” You laughed a little in pure shock. This was Teucer, Childes' younger brother. One of the two who didn’t know what he actually was. ‘Toy seller’ must be the excuse he's using to disguise his true role as a Fatui Harbinger until they're ready to learn the truth.

“Uh-huh!” He slid down the Ruin Guards arm “This is the part where I give you this” He presents you with a huge bag of mora

“My brother said to find a nice person and give it to them so they’ll take good care of Teucer”

“He must make a lot of money selling toys then”

“You best believe it! He sends it home to help us as well! Alright now we've gotta make a pinkie promise”

“Why do we need to make a pinkie promise?” You ask

“You need to promise to keep me safe!” He extends his small pinkie and you wrap yours around his after a moment of hesitation

“You make a pinkie promise, you keep it all your life. You break a pinkie promise, I throw you on the ice. The cold will kill the pinkie that once betrayed your friend, the frost will freeze your tongue so you never lie again” He recited, his tone too jaunty for the rhyme he just spoke.

“I think I know where to start looking for your brother” You said, crouching down to face him eye to eye. He didn’t have a vision but so long as he held on tightly enough you would be ok. 

 ✧

You waited at the top of the red lacquered stairs in front of Northland Bank waiting for Teucer to scramble up the remaining steps.  As soon as he reaches the top step he sprints towards the open door, you follow languidly behind him. Childe is by the desk talking to what seems to be the receptionist in Snezhnayan. You recognised her as one of Childe’s informants.

He seemed to be doing a little better, or at least he's good at hiding how terrible he feels. If you look close enough you could still see small bags under his eyes.

“Ajax!” Teucer exclaimed, he snapped his head around you see Teucer barrelling towards him, he slams into Child's leg and hugs it

Ajax? 

He switches to Common Tongue “I would know that voice anywhere! Teucer!” He laughs ruffling his hair, his tone significantly lighter than before. “I thought  I would have to wait to go home to see you again. How are the others, Tonia? Anthon?”

Teacher unclasps himself from Child's leg “They all miss you alot! Мама and Tonia pray for you at dinner every night. Папа is still a little sick but he's getting better every day with the medicine you sent!”

Childe frowns “Wait a second Teucer, what are you doing in Liyue? How come I haven't heard anything about this”

Teucer looks at the ground guilty “I snuck onto a ship back home, they said they were shipping toys to Liyue.., a-and I really wanted to see you! When I got off I just kept walking and walking until I found a Mister Cyclops”

Childe sighs and holds his head in his hand, crouching down and places his hands on Teucer’s shoulders “What you did was extremely dangerous, I’m happy to see you, really I am. But just promise you won't ever do that again. Poor Мама must be worried sick”

He clasped his hands behind his back swaying from side to side “Are you mad at me?”

“I’m not mad at you, I care about your safety, that's all. Just promise to never do that again, OK? If this nice lady hadn’t found you things could have been a lot more dangerous for you. Did you say thank you to her?”

“I promise” The both of them look at you “And thank you Miss. Nice Lady!”

You shook your head “It’s really no bother, I just wanted to make sure he got back to his brother safely” You said, putting on your best performance you could, you were no actress but you had a feeling you were somehow pulling it off.

“I can't thank you enough Miss…?”

“Yulia” you supplied

“Could I trouble you to take care of him for a few more hours? I have some business I need to attend to” He asks

“As long as you’re alright with me taking him to Bubu Pharmacy, I guess I could show him some of Liyue”

“Thank you so much” The receptionist hands him a small pouch of mora, he walks up and hands it to you “Consider this as Teucer’s entertainment fund” He whispers the next bit “Thank you for not revealing anything, he's still too young”

He steps back and turns to the receptionist “Ekaterina, I’ll death with that outstanding debt collection right away”

“But Master Childe wouldn’t it be a little improper to ask you to deal with a debt collection?” Ekaterina asked tentatively 

He shrugged “I made a bet with and agent and I lost, might as well get a littler exercise out of it” 

He walks out, pausing just before he exits “If you need me I’ll be by Qingxu Pool”

You and Teucer took to the streets of Liyue, he flitted around fascinated by the city. 

“Did you know that Anthon thinks the people in Liyue are made of stone. Ajax sent us a letter telling us they were boring old humans” He said, skipping ahead of you. 

You made your way to Bubu Pharmacy to drop off the herbs. You left the package with the new Herbalist Gui

“Let Baizhu know I’ll be in tomorrow for my shift!” You said waving goodbye.

Teucer tugged your hem “I’m hungry!” he whined

“How about we head to Wamin Restaurant? The chef and his daughter are the best cooks in Liyue” 

Teucer nodded enthusiastically and bolted down the stairs, you chased after him “Hey! Wait! You don't know where you're going!”

The boy didn’t seem to care, weaving through the crowds of Liyue without a care in Teyvat. You filled behind, trying to keep track of him. You caught back up to him and steered him across a bridge to another part of the city. 

Teucer scrunched his nose as soon as he stopped “It smells… choking in here”

Chef Mao evidently overheard that was you winced 

He took in stride as he gave a booming laugh “Choking smell? You must be referring to our signature jueyun chillies!”

“Chillies? But… I can’t easy spicy food”

“What do you like to eat, Teucer?” you asked calmly

“Hmmm, something with lots of sugar and extra virgin olive oil!”

You looked at Chef Mao and apologised “I’m sorry, well go find somewhere else that caters to Teucer's tastes”

Chef Mao waved his hand nonchalantly “We can do special requests no problem”

“Are you sure?” you asked slightly taken aback

“Easy work! Go find yourselves a seat”

“Thankyou” You and Teucer chirped

You and Teucer found a free table near the back corner of the restaurant, he scrambled up on the seat and swung his legs, he looked around, clearly fascinated by Liyuean culture. 

“Are you the Yulia that Ajax told us all about in his letters?” 

“S-sorry” you asked, trying not to choke on the sip of water you just had

“You have the same name and you look like the way Ajax described in his letters! Why didn't he know you at the bank?”

You were silent for a second, trying to come up with a good enough lie “Sometimes people in the toy industry have to pretend to not know each other, so when they announce a new toy everyone’s surprise”

A terrible lie but it would have to do but Teucer seemed to buy it judging by the way his eyes lit up. 

You wouldn't believe Childe mentioned you in his letters home, and what was with ‘Ajax’, was that his true name?

“Really! You’re a toy maker too!”

Thankfully one of the waitresses came around with the food, Teucer gave it a suspicious look before taking a small bite with the fork given to him.

“Mmmm! Just how Tonia makes it” He ate the whole meal and licked the plate clean. 

After paying Chef Mao with the money Childe gave you, you promptly left the restaurant.

Teucer already had a look on his face that suggested he knew what he wanted to do next. Out of the corner of your eye you spotted an older lady selling kites on the wharf. 

“You wanna go check the kites out Teucer?” You asked

He gave a vigorous nod and bolted off. You were again left to catch up to him. By the time you approached the stall the old woman was giving a Teucer a through explanation of what kites even were

“Snezhnaya is too cold and windy for kites! They would just get stuck in the snow” He said inspecting every single kite “I don't see one of a Mr Cyclops..”

The woman looked confused and you leaned in to whisper “He means a Ruin Guard” She gave you a warm smile in thanks. “I do do custom builds but it’ll be extra and I’ll need a few days to complete it”

You nodded, Childe could always pick it up and send it Snezhnaya, he was paying for it anyway. After haggling for a few minutes you agreed on a price and Teucer looked satisfied knowing that he’ll get a kite soon.

You walked along the harbour marketplace  “Do the people here ever freeze?”

“I don't think it snows in Liyue at all”

“Never?” He asked, confused

“Never” you chucked back, for all his rambunctiousness he was a cute kid. Teucer was distracted again by a fish merchant peddling his wares. 

“Wow! The fish here are so small!”

The merchant looked like he just got slapped “Whose fish are you calling small! I’m trying to run a business”

Seemingly oblivious to the merchants offence he prattled on “The fish in Snezhnaya are double, no, triple the size of this”

You stood back, as much as you wanted to intervene you did find the merchant's annoyance amusing, especially towards a clueless child.

“Are you gonna buy a fish or not?” he seethed, glaring Teucer down

“In Morepesok there are legends of giant fish and it's supposed to be super yummy. I told my big brother about it and he went hunting. A few days later he returned with a giant fish slung over his shoulder. Anthon and me were so happy!” He yapped on

Morepesok, so that's where he's from

The merchant looked just about ready to punt Teucer, sliding in you bent down to Teucer's eye level “How about we go find your brother”

Teucer looked about ready to explode with excitement when you said that. Taking that as a yes, you whisked him away to Qingxu Pool.

 ✧

Approaching Qingxu pool you would see Childe conversing with a blond Fatui agent. A group of pissed off treasure hoarders lingered nearby. 

Childe glazed over looking floored to see you and Teucer approaching, the Fatui agent raised a brow and ignored the two of you. 

“As I was saying, after Signoria’s departure you are the only Harbinger in Liyue. You need to initiate the new recruits. They’re just south of Lingju Pool” He reported in a thick Snezhnayan accent

Childe turned to look down at Teucer “I’m really sorry but I have to work”

Teucer looked about ready to burst into tears “But.. But I just got here”

You placed a hand on his shoulder “Hey, it’s OK, we can go back to Liyue Harbour and look at more toys? Why doesn’t Yulia take you to Wangshu Inn?”

Teucer hung his head, looking utterly dejected “Fine” 

As you started to walk back Teucer broke free of your grip, bolting after his brother. Rushing after him you barely caught up. You had no idea how he was able to run for so long as he weaved through the underbrush and through the ruins. 

Finally catching up to the small child, you caught him peeking over a rock at his brother giving a speech 

“You can't do that!” you forced out trying to catch your breath, ducking beneath the rock with him

“Shhh! I’m trying to hear Ajax speak!” he whispered to you, placing a finger to his lips to emphasise the point

“From this day onwards you will honour the oaths you have made to Her Majesty the Tsaritsa, and you will stop at nothing to bring victory to Snezhnaya. You shall sweep through the lands like the icy winds of the furthest north, as strong as the hoar frost of Zapolyarny Palace” He spoke to the newest recruits, inducting them into The Fatui, a smile of passion gracing his face

“Her Majesty expects of you loyalty, ruthlessness and precision. For the trials we face are harsh and our enemies are like..”  Teucer popped his head over the rock and waved. Taraglia looked like lighting had struck him 

“... Like kites and rattle drums. Who shall become reputable foes of Mr Cyclops in the marketplaces of Liyue.” He let out an unsure laugh as the recruits looked around in confusion. 

Teucer nodded as if this was normal “Uh-huh kites are fun too”

“This is of course an analogy, as they say - the marketplace too, is a battlefield” He glanced back over to Teucer and you, you bit your lip trying not to let out a laugh with how absurd the situation was.

“So as your… Sales manager I demand you obey every order. A refusal shall be considered a betrayal and the price of betrayal is to be dishonourably discharged from the…Liyue Institute of Toy Research” He finished the speech with an awkward look on his face

The recruits still looked at each other and Tartaglia in confusion. Muttering among themselves. 

“Forget it. Perhaps some hands-on training will suit us better. After all a strong body is proof of one’s capacity” He says jumping down

Some of the recruits chattered in excitement at the possibility of a Harbinger himself wanting to spar with them personally.

Thinking fast you covered Teucer’s eyes and whispered “Were going to play a game where you have to guess what's going on OK?”

Teucer, seeming delighted at the prospect of a game, eagerly nodded “Alright!”

Tartaglia, still weak from the abyss, took on each new recruit with ease, a master of battle with mere beginners. 

Teucer hummed “He’s showing them how to make a Mr Cyclops isn't he?”

Before you could answer he pried your fingers apart to see what was actually happening.

He stared amazed, focused on Tartaglia’s movements as not a single blow landed on him. After all the recruits had had their turn Tartaglia dismissed them, they signalled off and left for the nearest camp to officially begin their training. 

As soon as he dismissed the recruits he made a bee-line right towards Tartaglia “Ajax! You were amazing”

“Teucer, Yulia, what are you doing here? I thought Yulia had taken you to play at Wangshu Inn” He laughed but he looked at you for an answer. 

“I wanted to see you so I ran away from Yulia” He said proudly

“He’s rather slippery you know, reminds me of someone I already know” You commented 

Childe chucked and Teucer bounced up and down on his toes “I wanna learn to fight like you! I wanna look cool like you”

“Fighting isn't about looking cool, you know. If you want to get better you need to have a reason as to why you're fighting. I’ll teach you but you've got to know why you're doing it”

Teucer gave it a second to think “I want to learn to protect Tonia and Мама and Anthon!”

“That's a good answer, but now you need to go home, Tonia must be worried about you” He said, trying to coax Teucer home in any way possible

Teucer frowned “Only if you do one small thing for me” Cleary resistant to the idea of leaving his brother again 

“And what would that be?” He cocked his head

“I wanna see The Liyue Institute of Toy Research” Childe’s jaw twitched 

“Let’s see, yes, The Institute is just south-east of here isn't it?”

✧

The three of you stood outside the abandoned factory, leaned in and murmured to Childe “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

He murmured back “Dottore abandoned this place a few months ago when he lost interest, it’ll be fine” He said dismissively

You grabbed his arm forcing him to look at you “Do you even know what it’s like inside?”

“Well.. no, but you have me and it's my duty as a brother to protect Teucer.” He spoke to his brother “You ready?”

He pushed his way inside of the factory, Ruin Guards littered the floor. “Ajax, Yulia said that Mr Cyclopes are dangerous”

“Did she now?” He gave you a look and you raised your eyebrow. Your catalyst floated alongside you just in case. “What a silly thing to say. Maybe don’t go repeating that though, your far too young to think about such things” He added tentatively 

“Yeah! Mr Cyclops is my friend and he’ll defeat the bad guys and protect the world” Teucer relied, skipping along the path in delight

“Right. With Mr Cyclops around the bad guys won’t ever hurt you” You said, stepping over a loose arm. Without even replying Teucer ran off to play. The grated door shut behind him. 

“Teucer! Hey! Wait up!” You yelled, voice echoing against the walls

“C’mon there's another way up there” The two of you ran, Childe drew out his bow and activated the hydro monument flooding the empty pool in front of you. You ran and he skated over the short distance. 

A few pyro slimes littered the way to the console, within a few seconds you hand Childe had vaporised them. He pressed the console and opened up the door to meet up with Teucer

“Oh, the door opened! Was that you?” He said, not even bother to look at Childe

“Yeah, Teucer give me a moment I need to make sure everything's -” Before he could finish his sentence Teucer had gone off into the next room. 

He pulled a hand across his face “Maybe I shouldn't have spoiled him so much” he grumbled.

“Let's go, we've got no time to lose”  You made your way carefully to the next room. Steam making it harder to see. 

“These Ruin Guards have all been strung up, I wonder where they're being taken to?” You mumbled, looking at the countless mechanical weapons above you

“I don’t know - but if it's any chance where Teucer is we need to get there before things get ugly” He replied, voice getting tenser. You made it past the elemental slimes and through the metal labyrinth. You saw Teucer’s form through the iron bars. 

Childe called out “Teucer! You see that stone cube over there? I'm going to count to three and were going to press it together. One, Two, Three” The gate ground open and Childe hugged Teucer.

“Are you hurt?” he mumbled into his hair. 

“Hurt? No way this has been so fun!” He grinned

“Fun for you maybe, we've been scared to death” you said, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Wait… what's over there.” He takes a step forward “A giant room full of Mr Cyclopes! Is this where he takes his friends when they come to visit?”

Childe sighed, just about done with Teucer’s antics “It is. Impressive isn't it? Now, how about a game of hide and seek?”

“Uhh.. Now? But” Childe cut him off 

“I have a surprise for you” Teucer brightened up “You can look for it later but now you need to close your eyes, turn around and count to sixty” 

“But sixty is a really long time” he whined, obliging anyway. 

You stood next to Childe, preparing yourself for the onslaught. The guards came down, and you drew your weapons. A ring of hydro daggers floated behind you while Childe drew his dual blades. 

“There’s not much time, let's clear this place out” he said to you, you nodded in return

You didn't bother with the theatrics Childe put on as you aimed for the eye plunging through it with your hydro sword. Teucer’s countdown creating unhelpful background noise. 

“Forty-eight, forty-seven forty-six, forty-five...”

You found yourself surrounded by a circle of Ruin Guards advancing towards you, Childe bursts through and takes a few of them down, one approaches him behind his back, you disable it, jumping off one of the disintegrating bodies to end it for good. 

“Twenty-six, twenty-five, twenty-four...”

“Hey! You skipped a few numbers!” Childe exclaimed as he dodged an arm coming down towards him. The ground shook as it made impact. You tried to swallow your growing fear and keep quiet for Teucer’s sake. 

A Ruin Guard nearly hit you, you retaliate, swinging your sword at it blindly. An arrow thrown by Childe hits it and you finish it off. 

“Five, four, three, two…” You use the last second to throw your sword at the mechanical sentinel and rush over to Teucer to block his view. Childe stood alone surrounded by endless enemies.

“One! Are you ready” He asked, ready to play

“Just ten more seconds. Still hiding” he bit out as calmly as he could

“Hmph! Who’s the cheater now? Fine, ten seconds that's all you get” He replied indignantly 

He laughed and turned as a guard was just about to punch him.

"Ten, nine, eight..."

A flash hydro turned to electro as he dashed towards the centre of the room, creating a shockwave that blasted the guards back. His Foul Legacy emerged, jumping up followed by a cape of stars he plunged down destroying everything in his wake.

“Four, Three..”

He landed and looked directly at you, a glint of light emerging from his eye. He dashed off into an unknown corner.

“Two, One! Coming ready or not!” Teucer turned around to see the corpses of the guards laying around in the steam, a few still sparking. He stood in awe before giggling and running to clamber over the guards

“This.. This is everything I ever dreamed of!” He yelled in pure excitement

“This is the surprise your brother prepared for you, what do you think?” You prompted, scrunching your nose at the faint traces of the abyss. 

“I love it! I’m gonna go find my brother!” He sprints off looking behind the guards.

You approached the dark corner Childe was hiding in. You found him slumped against the wall, he peered up at you

“Thank the Tsaritsa you found me first” he coughed. “I don’t know what I would do if Teucer found me like this. It would just about shatter the dreams I’ve worked so hard to build for him”

“You need to get home now” you knelt down in front of him taking his pulse, his skin was cold and clammy and his heartbeat was slow. Using his Foul Legacy form so soon after the last time must have wiped him out.

“No, I can get myself back. J-just get Teucer to the bank. I’ll get one of my agents to take him from there” He coughs again, hacking up that signature black-flecked phlegm. He presses a small figurine into your hands “Give this to Teucer won't you?” 

Reluctantly you stood “Get back safe alright?” 

“I always do” He took a deep breath and stood up shakily. 

“Pinkie promise me” you asked, he gave a small, soft smile and hooked his pinkie with yours. You started the first part of the rhyme “ You make a pinkie promise, you keep it all your life.”

“You break a pinkie promise, I throw you on the ice. The cold will kill the pinkie that once betrayed your friend, the frost will freeze your tongue so you never lie again. Teucer taught you that?” 

“Yeah…” You glanced to the room seeing Teucer was nowhere near the two of you. He just gave a small laugh and limped back towards Liyue Harbour

You found Teucer still looking around the Ruin Guards mumbling to himself “I can’t find him anywhere.. Where did he go…”

“He already left” you said, walking up to him

“What? Without me?” he said, upset

“A huge number of people wanted to buy Mr Cyclopes. Here he gave me something to give to you” You handed him the small action figure of a Ruin Guard

“Wow! I didn’t know they came in this size. Ajax really is the best big brother ever!” He turned the figurine around in his small hands

You gave him a soft smile “C’mon, don’t you reckon it's time to head back to Snezhnaya?”

 ✧

As soon as you approached the bank a stern Fatuus spoke “Ma’am, young master Teucer, I've been waiting for you. The Lord Harbinger extends his gratitude to you miss. A boat has been arranged to take you back to Snezhnaya young master”

“But what about my brother?” He questioned, sadness lacing his voice

“The Lord Harbinger has instructed me to tell you that you will see him soon in Snezhnaya” He replied coldly, leaving no room for questions. Teucer looks up at you and you crouch down to give him a hug

“Stay safe OK? Let your brother know when you get home” 

“I will! I can’t wait to tell everyone that I finally met you” He let go and stepped back, being led away by the Fatui Agent. You see Childe signal to you out of a shadowy corner. You went over to see him holding himself up with one arm on the wall.

“Why didn’t you say goodbye to him?” You place him arm over your shoulder

“Partings are special moments, I don't want his last memory of me to be of me like this. All haggard and weak. Still… I wish I could have seen him off” He gave a sad smile as he looked down at the red-lacquered wood of the bridge.

You began to escort him back to his apartment. He shook you off and walked a short distance ahead of you. Eventually he unlocked the door and collapsed onto the couch in exhaustion. Groaning as he finally let his body rest.

“You told your family about me” You comment, voice flat

“That I did” he mumbled, You felt the rage quell in you, rage that he put you and Teucer in danger like that, that he pushed himself so hard. You took a deep breath in, trying to calm down.

You spoke softly, sitting down on the couch. His head in your lap, you tangled your fingers in his hair gently. A lock of his hair was lighter than the rest, something new.

“Why?” You looked down at him, he looked tired and yet content

“I-I don’t know.” He admitted. He coughed violently. 

“You. Childe, Tartaglia Ajax. Harbinger, Abyssiling, Boy. Are a man of inherent contradictions. You care so deeply about your family's safety and mine to the extent that you had me make contracts with you and yet, you put us in dangers way. You took Teucer and I to an abandoned factory of Dottore’s for what? Your brother's entertainment?”

You took a breath and continued “You told your family about me, what if those letters got intercepted?” You spoke evenly

You looked into his eyes, the purported windows of the soul only to find they were shut. letting nobody in. You realised that he not only contradicts everything you initially stood for, but everything he lived for. He didn’t want to release Osial but he did anyway. He hates the Fatui’s deception but deceives his own siblings. He acts so genuine and yet he wears a mask.

“You could have gotten yourself killed like that” You try not to scold him

“I nearly did, transforming that fast fucking hurts. But it's something I need to do to keep my family safe. The abyss taught me that wrath will always be the cost of protection” He fully relaxed into your lap

“What happened to Ajax, What happened in the Abyss?” You prodded further, no indication of anger in your voice

“Truths you wouldn't want to know, what Celestia did to Khaenri'ah, the roots for my loyalty to the Tsaritsa. Ajax died in the Abyss by my own hand” 

“Then who are you if not a loyal dog to the Tsaritsa, Ajax?” There was a faint glint of light in his eyes as you spoke his true name. 

“I am nothing but her vanguard, without her I am a soul lost in the snow. The boy who clambered out of the abyss and attempted to grasp the gods”

“Ajax isn’t dead is he? Buried somewhere in the snow he still lives and breathes” Your fingers twitch in his hair

“Don't try and crack this mask” He said, not even having the energy to try and be intimidating

“Watch me break it in two” You replied 

Translations! Tres autuem Facies Praenuntius -> Three Faces of the Laughing Harbinger Il n'y a pas de douceur comme ton péché/тогда приходи и купайся в нем, дорогая -> There is no such sweetness as your sin/Then come and bathe in it darling Любовник -> lover

[trixibebe]

oc x canon ~ First meeting

[cuntdestroyer3000]

HI I DID NOT MEAN TO POST THAT IT IS STILL A WIP IGNORE IT THANK YOU

[psychogirlfriendandsupervillain]

Other Man's Widow - Chapter 2

Female!Reader x Whitey Winn (Both young adults)

Modernish!AU (it's kinda 1950-60s coded?), inspired by the lyrics of Carrie Underwood's Church Bells and Hoizer's Dinner and Diatribes (Church Bells is the backflashes, Dinner and Diatribes is the vibe of the hot questioning room before the rain).

Warnings: Abuse, domestic abuse, murder, religious trauma(?).

Summary: The young deputy gets sent to comfort a young widow.

A/N: We get to see more of the other Godless characters :D.

Your tentative hands meet the edges of the cup. It is no longer burning to the touch as you lift it slowly to your lips. The air is damp and still your tongue feels dry. The young man across from you watches you take a sip with soft but attentive dark eyes. You push down the discomfort of being observed, hiding it in your handkerchief. 

“How did he seem these last few days? Was he” Deputy Winn pauses, moving his pen in circles in the air and lifting his eyes up, looking for the right expression. “worried about anything?”

He’s sweet, trying hard to not involve you in anything you didn’t know before. His movements, while indicative of his youth and a wandering mind, are reminiscent of how one handles a bird that has flown in through an open window into the kitchen. Your arm itches and you brush a hand over the knit to soothe it. 

“I don’t know about worried, John never tells me about his work. But the last week or so” You grip the handkerchief between your hands again “oh I don’t know.”

“Now any little thing could be important.” Deputy Winn makes a gesture with his hand, as if to soothe your worries.

“He’s been absentminded.” You confide, releasing a sigh. “The phone rang one night and the call seemed to agitate him.” A frown ghosts over your face.

“And when was this?” He takes up the pen again. 

“Tuesday. I’d made shepard’s pie.”

“Any idea what it was about?” Whitey really hates to put her through this. Her face is veiled in held back emotion, flickers showing only in passing, shoulders move with even breaths. The shadows cast by the blinds make her seem to have lost days of sleep. Whitey wishes he could say something to ease your pain, but he knows that isn’t possible. All he can do is focus on his job, get the facts straight for McNue and the others, and maybe he can get you some closure.

You look up from your hands. “Work, he said.”

“Father.” The soft spoken word was loud in the empty hall. Reverend Griffin looked up from the fountain of holy water which he had dipped his hands.

“My child.” His face lit up with joy, eyes crinkling hinting at the smile hidden by his white beard. He waves a large hand. “Come in, you’re always welcome in God’s house.” 

You slipped out from the shadows by the entrance under the organ loft, head lowered with the brim of your hat shutting out against the light shining in through the tall windows. Reverend Griffin’s arm circled around your back, herding you towards the front pew. Your shoes clicked against the stone floor, too loud, like you were taking up too much space. The floral fabric whispers against your legs as you sit down with him, hat in your hands.

“Father, I need advice.” You spoke quietly. “I feel as though I am lacking. I try to be a good wife to my John but my efforts fall short.” With effort you stopped your hands from picking at the seam of your dress. The reverend’s hands came to rest on top of yours, his body leaning forward and you lifted your gaze to his, keeping the side of your face towards him.

“My child, marriage is holy, sanctioned by the Lord himself. There will be trying times, as in all parts of His creation, but the bond between you and your husband is sacred. You will find the way.” His eyes were genuine, but his words stung your eyes and burn your right cheek. You blinked a few times and cleared your throat, returning the squeeze to his hand.

“Thank you, Father.”

“Just down the corridor and to the left.” The young man holds open the door for you. Your dress barely brushes past him and you step out into the hall with a quiet thanks. 

On your way past the barred in front desk you note the spot of bright colour and meet eyes with Mary-Agnes, who is pausing her writing to tuck back an escaped strand of blond hair. The woman had shown you into the room with a firm but kind hand when the police car had dropped you off at the station. She told you that someone would be right with you, and if you had needed anything, you were just to call for Maggie, she’d told you in a warm tone that left no room for protests. You give a small smile to her and she returns a reassuring one. Behind her you see Miss Temple searching in an archive cabinet for some paper. Turning the corner you reach the restroom and close the door behind you. It was a wonder the station had put Maggie on reception desk work, when she had eyes that would pierce your soul if you had been around her longer.

You finish your business and after washing your hands you run the tap as cold as it will go. The water will only provide temporary relief, as you dab wet tissue at your neck. Taking a deep breath you look in the mirror, squeezing the edges of the porcelain sink.

You quietly slipped into the back pew on Sunday morning, the veil on your hat low over your brow. Reverend Goode shifted further in on the bench and you give him a nod in thanks. He wore his white clergy cloak, overseeing the baptism of the Gunners’ little bundle of joy later in the day. Baptisms never had been Reverend Griffin’s self appointed duties. 

As the very man begun his sermon from the front of the room you couldn’t help the venomous glare that shot from under your cover. He had spoken of love on your wedding day. When you came to him, he spoke of marriage being a holy union. On this day he stood up there today preaching about care, and fidelity, when last night you were being beaten so hard you hit your head on the leg of a kitchen stool. That was his friend that did that.

Reverend Goode must have caught your stare because he turned towards you, and even in the shade of the organ loft you could see he saw. As all rose to join a hymn you moved to leave but the soft touch of his fingers against your arm stops you. You turned, face lowered, and the shame in his eyes when you finally met them almost matches the one you feel. The makeup once again felt unnatural on your face, the skin burned where the marks were. He held out his hand, carefully, hopefully, and you took it, held it tight as you joined the hymn.

You did not have to tell him. He knew. As he sat with you after the sermon, he held your hand and didn’t say a word as you both stared at the cross together. 

“What do I do?” You asked, knowing he’d have no answers. Reverend Griffin was the leader of this congregation, and Roy could be out in the blink of an eye if he spoke poorly of the Reverend’s friend. You didn’t want that to happen to him. The town would suffer a great loss if this kind man moved away.

He squeezed your hand, and looking at him in the corner of your eye you could see cracks form in him, as if the reverend was struggling with his faith in the system he was in. Then he took a deep breath and met your eyes.

“Have faith in the Lord, my child.” His voice was grave, eyes urging you to forgive him for his own weakness but to trust his words. “His will be done.”

You nodded. “I will.”

[divinehedons]

finally, after what feels like a whole-ass millennia, i bring you:

the post-fic notes for godless promethean, elektran rage.

below the cut are the books, music, and generally anything that inspired this strange, yet special fic that will always be so close to my heart. enjoy!

books and poems:

the odyssey by homer (tr. allen mendelbaum),

the love song of j. alfred prufrock by t.s. eliot,

the colossus by sylvia plath, and

piranesi by susanna clarke.

music:

prometheus and elektra, a playlist of music on repeat from the writing room.

i am once again so thankful to everyone who gave a look at such a long fic which draws so much from the things that i love. i firmly believe in sharing good art and standing by the books and media that we love.

keep reading, listening, and writing. i love you all to the moon and back!

[10-honglazia-24]

Pregnant just from reading this WOWOWOW WOW I thought my studded and inked Yunho was soenthing thsi is GODLY GODLY THIS WROTER IS A GOD IM OREGNANT JSUT FROM READING IT

11 - ɪᴍᴘʀᴇɢɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ - ꜱᴀɴ

ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇꜱ

part 1

pairing: lead singer! san x groupie! reader (fem) feat. guitarist! seonghwa (seonghwa is just kinda there in this i’m sorry ;;)

genre: band au, smut

summary: after being rejected by your favorite guitarist, you give the lead singer a visit instead.

w.c: 2.6k

warnings: some mxm in the intro, san’s a menaceeee but so is the reader, dom leaning! san, sub leaning! reader, dirty talk, nipple play (m/f receiving), degradation, marking, brief spit mention (it wouldn’t be my fic if there wasn’t spit somewhere 🫶🏼), unprotected sex, impregnation kink (duh), there’s a big focus on cum bc i’m filthy, tiny mention of cum inflation, multiple creampies

a/n: i think this might be my favorite fff fic so far <3 i just really like the idea of alt metal ateez okayyy and plus san's my bias so i went completely off the rails 🥵 also no one asked but the lyrics of the song in the intro were taken from the ending of “kingslayer” by bring me the horizon and the bridge of “the death of peace and mind” by bad omens <3

FFF Masterlist

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“I can feel youuuuu!” San sang with every ounce of his being, bending himself backwards, his head hanging upside down, a few beads of sweat dripping from his temples. He stood back up and held onto his mic with a death grip, bringing one leg up onto the speaker that continued to blast out the loud, angsty instrumental. “Is this what you want?” The crowded chanted his name, fueling his ego and his wish to leave everything he possibly had to give on the stage.

“Then, this is what you fucking get,” he growled out, a few veins visibly straining against his freckled neck, his dark eyes filled with pure rage. “Augh!” Consumed with the energy of their performance, he tore his loose black tank top off in a downwards motion. The remaining fabric hung off of his frame, his perfectly toned upper body now on display for everyone and their mom to gawk at. When the music came to an intensely loud peak, he suddenly reached his arm out to point to someone who probably blew their load right then and there.“You motherfuckin’ shit!”

You were squished against the barricade, hardly paying attention to the rowdy people routinely bumping into you from all sides, too distracted by how mesmerizing San was onstage. And how incredibly wet you were. If Seonghwa was so fond of sharing himself with others, what was stopping you from doing the same thing?

San and the rest of the band, including Seonghwa, began banging their heads to the heavier-sounding combination of guitars, drums, and bass. “Put your hands up, motherfuckers,” San exhaled into the mic, scanning the crowd with his blown out irises, looking certifiably insane. He always stayed in character onstage, but how much of it was an over exaggeration and much of it melded with his true persona? Not knowing turned you on to a degree you were almost ashamed of.

Most of the crowd followed his lead, reaching a hand out into the air to put up the rock symbol, though a few girls were too busy ripping off their bras to toss in his direction. You simply stood there with your bottom lip trapped in between your teeth, waiting patiently for him to find you in the crowd. Once the lead singer’s hooded eyes were on you, you lifted your band hoodie up and allowed your tits to drop out of the thick material, bouncing a bit on your heels from your excitement.

San groaned at the sight of you, not having the self-control to keep himself from grabbing his half-hard cock through his tight pants. “Are you ready for this? I said, put your fucking hands up,” he shouted to the sea of people below him, not able to take another look at your bouncing tits when Seonghwa grabbed San by his small waist, his fingers hooking into the material of the lead singer's torn jeans, yanking him in his direction.

Licking his lips, San lifted his mic in between them, allowing Seonghwa to let out his own raspy yell, his voice starting low and guttural and eventually growing louder and raw, showing off his impressive pipes. San watched him with a fondness that bordered arousal, his hands sinking into the other’s damp raven locks, gripping it tightly. Seonghwa’s eyes rolled back, his fingers still expertly hitting note after note without much concentration, as though it were second nature.

“Are you satisfied?” San yelled out, expelling the air from his diaphragm in order to produce the perfect metal scream, almost being drowned out by the overwhelmingly heavy sound of guitar and drums. He tugged Seonghwa in his direction, pressing a rough kiss onto the guitarist’s open mouth, his tongue slipping inside. Once San got his fill, he shoved Seonghwa backwards, a small string of saliva dripping from their mouths. He bent over near the edge of the stage, squeezing the mic inside his calloused hands, his once slicked-back hair now falling into his eyes. Waiting for his cue, he took in a deep breath, his neck veins making a return, shouting with raw intensity, “Are you fucking satisfied?!”

The crowd lost their goddamn minds, cheering and shouting, some still holding their rock symbols up, and others too busy shedding a tear. Personally, you didn’t understand how you survived witnessing set after set for so long, or how anybody else did, for that matter. Their performances were always so viscerally stimulating, it physically hurt that you couldn’t simply jump onto the stage and let each of them use you to their heart’s content.

-

You found yourself standing at the door of Seonghwa’s hotel room, despite your plans to talk to San after the show ended. “Goddamn it,” you mumbled to yourself, wondering why you weren’t capable of playing hard to get around him for even a microsecond. Maybe if you did, you wouldn’t be the one waiting around for him.

Hearing your eventual knocks, Seonghwa answered the door, his raven hair wet and clinging to his bare face, remnants of mascara present underneath his eyes. Naked for only a moment, he wrapped a small towel loosely around his slender hips. “Baby, hey. What’d you think of the show?”

Your pensiveness melted in an instant, instead being replaced by your clear adoration for him. “God, I can’t even describe how it made me feel, Hwa. I just know how fucking wet it made me.”

He chuckled to himself, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe. “You’re always wet for me, Y/N.”

You took a step closer, your hand moving past his towel to lightly stroke his length, lifting yourself up onto your heels to whisper near his face, “Always.”

Seonghwa took in a deep inhale and let it out, leaning his head back, growing hard inside your grip. "Baby..." After a few moments, he brought himself back to reality, suddenly grabbing you by the chin and pressing a harsh kiss against your lips, only to push you away, a sad smile on his flushed face.

“Hwa…?” you mumbled, slowly retracting your hand, your eyes wide with surprise.

Two separate feminine voices came from the bed that was out of view, the both of them whining about how he was taking too long. Seonghwa sighed, rubbing his neck. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I should’ve told you I was busy tonight. Why don’t you visit San?”

“Maybe I will.” No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t keep your lips from forming a small pout, though you were able to furrow your brows in annoyance. “You know what?”

Seonghwa frowned, feeling bad, but knowing you wouldn’t want to join him as a third. You simply required too much attention from him in a group setting, unable to handle when he took care of others in front of you. “What?”

Your pout was replaced by a subtle, but distinctively smug smirk. “I’m gonna let him put a baby in me.”

-

Okay, take two. You knocked on San's hotel room door, unconsciously pulling on your hoodie strings, leaning back on your heels. You almost felt like you should back out, not wanting to get rejected by your idols one after another. Before you could take a step back, San opened the door halfway, giving you a lewd, almost cheshire-like smile, his eyes surveying your chest as though he were reminiscing about what had occurred an hour earlier. "What brings you here, doll?"

Wrapping one of the hoodie strings around your index finger, you looked up at him past your fluttering eyelashes, your tongue wetting the corner of your glossy lips. "Is that offer still good?"

San’s brown eyes dilated in real time, his face and body almost frozen like he was malfunctioning, before immediately turning around to yell at the half-dressed groupies lazing around on his bed. "Time for you guys to go! Something just came up, so go find another band member to fuck, alright?”

The group of girls and guys, some older and some younger, groaned and cursed amongst themselves, eventually filing out of the door, some of them giving you dirty looks. “You better fuck him good for us,” one of them grumbled near you, prompting you to emit a small ‘yep’, before he disappeared down the hallway with the rest of the groupies.

You turned your attention back to San who had already grabbed your wrist, pulling you into the room and shutting the door behind you, pressing you against it with his heated body. "You were about to fuck all those people?" you asked casually, reaching down to slip your hands underneath his sleep tee, your fingers exploring the soft curves of his hips and stiffness of his abdominal muscles, not able to decide which felt better underneath your touch.

"Yeah..." he sighed, arching his back slightly when you began to play with his pierced nipples. “I like performing for a crowd…” He eventually leaned his head into your shoulder, emitting small breaths of air, your fingers expertly tweaking and twisting the small metal bands to give him maximum pleasure.

“Of course you do.” You lifted San's shirt off of him, your fingers going back to his pebbled buds to play with them some more, pulling at his piercings, making him groan. "Do you fill all of them up with your cum, Sannie?"

“Uh-huhhh…” San exhaled into your neck, bringing one of his hands up to slip underneath your hoodie, grabbing onto one of your tits, squeezing it roughly inside the palm of his hand. “Every last one.”

You moaned, your fingers going lax for a moment, caught up with how San pushed both hands under your hoodie to knead your tits around, his fingers flicking your nipples. "Ahh, how do you not run out?"

He grinned after hearing the small squeaks you made when he pinched and pulled at them instead, mumbling in a deep voice near your ear, "I just have a lot of love to give, doll."

Boldly slipping your hand past his briefs and gripping his hardened cock, you asked in a sweet tone, "Does that mean you have a lot of love to give me?"

-

San had you folded up on the mattress, holding your ankles down near your head, slamming his hips into you so quickly and forcefully, neither of you could take a proper breath. He leaned his head down, his wet bangs tickling your forehead from being so close, chuckling softly at the sight of your starstruck expression. "You look like you want to say something, Y/N."

"You were—aaah—so amazing onstage earlier, Sannie..." you breathed out, your cunt clenching tightly around his throbbing cock, familiar with the warmth and thickness of his cum, knowing he was shooting more inside you. "You made me so fucking wet..."

Almost shuddering from how hard he was cumming, San buried his face into your hickey-covered neck, sucking on the skin of your collarbone, groaning out, “I already know how goddamn wet I made you. I bet those panties of yours were drenched by the end of the show, huh?" San moved down from your neck to your chest, slurping up each of your tits into his mouth, one at a time, giving them both the attention they deserved.

"I had to play with myself on the tour bus on the way back here..." you admitted, wanting to say more, but being unable to, emitting a sharp gasp instead. Your tits were a lot more sensitive now, especially from how San alternated between having them inside his mouth and using his tongue on them. “No one saw me though, I swear. I did it in the bathroom.”

He spit onto one of your already shiny tits, wanting to make more of a mess, before he dove in to suck and lick at them like he was racing against an invisible timer. "Mm, looks like babydoll can't get enough of me onstage...so much so that she resorts to being a needy little whore all by herself," he mumbled on your bruising skin, eagerly flicking his tongue at a nipple, making you squirm underneath him. "Bet you wanted me to pull you onstage and pump a baby into you in front of all those people, huh, naughty girl?”

"Yeah, I did...and it's your fault," you whined softly, emitting a set of soft, airy moans, San's cock brushing against your g-spot over and over. "Take responsibility, Sannie." Your fingers clenched into the muscles on his broad back, feeling them tense up underneath your touch.

"My fault? My fault you needed me so badly that you resorted to showing these pretty tits off in front of everyone?" Finding your dick-drunkenness to be amusing, he wanted to push the topic, pressing kisses to your neck up to your jaw, still thrusting into you at a fast pace. "It's my fault for turning you into a shameless little slut? Hm?"

"Yes!" you cried out, your voice broken and hoarse from how hard you were cumming, your trembling thighs squeezing around his tiny waist.

"Hm, I guess I should take responsibility, huh?" Blowing a few strands of hair out of his hooded eyes, he pulled out slightly, holding the tip of his cock against your pulsing hole. "I should take responsibility for all these fucking loads I'm filling you with too," he groaned, stroking himself for a few more seconds, his seed eventually spurting out onto your mound, the liquid dripping down along your puffy folds.

“Mm, fuck, that’s it,” you reacted, reaching down with one hand to rub his cum around your cunt, pushing two fingers inside your gaping hole to fuck the liquid into yourself. However, your fingers weren’t enough to satisfy you. You needed his cock inside. You needed to be filled with his hot, milky love one last time. “It’s not enough, Sannie. I need more.”

Your shameless desperation and insatiable lust was like chicken soup for his black soul, making him hard again almost instantaneously. “Yeah? You want to milk me completely dry, doll?”

“Yes, please.” You suddenly lunged up from the bed and pushed San down, his back hitting the mattress with a bounce, sinking down onto his length without a second thought, his cum being pushing out of you.

“God, yes, fucking ride me, you whore,” San growled, gritting his teeth, one hand gripping your hip tightly, the other on your lower stomach, allowing you to fuck yourself to hell and back using his cock. “You’re so full for me…so full of my seed…yet, it’s not enough…” He pressed on your abdomen, feeling some resistance, convinced that his cum was making your tummy swell slightly. “God, I fuckin’ love you…”

Bouncing on San’s dick with feverish speed, you started to pant heavily and drool a bit, not even caring that he was seeing you in such a fucked-out state. You were simply too desperate to make him cum again, to the point that you didn’t even care about reaching your own high. “Fill me up, Sannie. Please, please, please fill me up with your cum…Fuck it into me, into my womb…make me yours…”

Your whiny-sounding words and tight, cum-slicked cunt brought San to his end, making him shudder and thrust wildly up into you. “God, here it comes, baby…take my fucking load…” He let out a series of throaty, almost guttural groans, ramming himself into you until he held you completely still, slowly pumping his seed as deep as he possibly could.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah…” you echoed weakly, pretty sure you were unraveling in that instant from how insanely amazing it felt to be stuffed completely full of your favorite lead singer’s seed. If you were having a baby for anyone, it was definitely him.

Once you came back down to reality, your body felt heavy and almost numb, causing you to slowly drop down onto San’s chest, your sweaty, sticky bodies melding together. “That was…Fuck, I can’t even form the words…”

San stroked your wet hair, gazing up at the ceiling, the post-nut clarity incredibly kind to him this time around. “I might have to write a song about it.” You giggled softly, moving your fingers upwards to slip into his hair as well, gently massaging the shaved area of his hair near his pierced ear.

After some comfortable silence, San eventually inquired, "So, am I your favorite band member now?"

You lifted your head up, your skin still flushed beyond measure, bringing your hand to your mouth to wipe some drool away from your lips. "I don't pick favorites."

San burst out into laughter, patting the top of your head and giving you a pleased smile, his dimples making your heart race. "Now, that's a fucking lie."

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FFF: @hwalysm @scuzmunkie @creativechaoticloner @dilucpegg3r @yeosxxx @gemjimin @wonwowzers @sanjoongie @manipulatedstars @k-drizzle 

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

© toxicccred, 2023.

[visenyaism]

feastdance dashboard simulator

💋queen-cersei-defense-squad Follow

it’s so sick that people keep criticizing queen cersei as if she’s not the first female ruler of westeros??? literally elevating bastards and women to her small council is super fucking progressive as is creating the precedent of dismissing unfit kingsguard??

🪨dragonstoner Follow

aren’t all of her children literally bastards born of incest

💋 queen-cersei-defense-squad Follow

oh so now you’re going to listen to stannis baratheon, known misogynist, kinslayer, fornicator, team green supporter, and homophobe, huh.

🦑pykedyke

okay guys i know there’s no “perfect candidate” but you have to vote in the kingsmoot anyways not voting is how someone like e****n g*****y wins and literally anyone is better than him. suck it up and row to the polls

🦈reaveherihardlyknowher

ohhhh not this “vote your crew no matter who” “blue lips man bad” bullshit again. fuck off idgaf which godless man sits the seastone chair i’m not voting for asha shes literally a neoliberal

🦷 lastoftheegiants

first i had to give up my rights and then i had to give up my gods just to not get killed by fucking wights but i literally cannot believe the nights watch made me give up my strap as part of the treasure ransom. shit was expensive it was IVORY. i hate southerners so much i hope the lord commander dies

🌪️kinslayerr

DO NOT COME TO THE RIVERLANDS

🍓silverspurs Follow

why

🌪️kinslayerr

there’s riverlands here

🧜‍♂️theythemderly

freys

🌾maidencool

my cousin got eaten by rats in harrenhal

🐎brackennation Follow

dumb cunts wearing raven feather cloaks strutting around who think they’re better than you but they’re not better than you

🌟sevenstar

i saw a guy get killed and then just stand back up and start fighting again because his friend kissed him on the mouth down here once

🦌whitehart

giant feral pack of 60 wolves running around

🍓silverspurs Follow

ok understandable have a nice day

🫧bastardwaters

i hate the fucking sparrows can we be normal for five minutes or can we just not have shit in the crownlands

☠️real-stormlands-patriot Follow

ITS LORD COMMANDOVER #RIPBOZO

🐦‍⬛mormonts-raven-bot Follow

CORN! DEATH! CORN!

(CAW! I follow members of the Night's Watch to remind them of their oaths!)

🦷 lastoftheegiants

????

🍋floriansjonquil

Loras Tyrell x Queen of Love and Beauty!Reader Imagines

Keep Reading

🪻maidens-smile Follow

girl this is notttttt the time he literally just fucking died at dragonstone?

💎oathkeeper

should’ve stanned jaime #LORASFELLOFF

💐flowerknight

one kill yourself jaime lannister is an honorless kingslaying turncloak two i heard loras tyrell was literally fine?

👊fleabottomtop

lord davos seaworth, the class traitor from the stannis baratheon administration, is a nasty little thottie and just died from making it clap in white harbor

🌅girlheir

this tower fucking sucks.

🌅girlheir

i’m just like rhaenyra targaryen for real

🌅girlheir

🐀ratcook5000 Follow

people meat tastes good asf when you don’t have a wench in your ear saying it violates guest right

🐺threeeyedwolf

🍒ladylance

need that targ girl in mereen to get those lizards over here and liberate this website by any means necessary cause what the fuck is going on

[angelsforthenight]

BEYOND SALVAGE — ellie williams x fem!reader (pt. 2)

a catholic boarding school AU… read pt. 1 here! ೀ⋆｡˚

after the humiliating sports day accident, ellie seems to take direct notice of you. your uncontrollable desires and bodily reactions cause you to feel horrible, until one night in the chapel.

cw: mdni!!!, long (but worth it 😛) heavy religious (catholic) talk, hinted religious trauma, ellie has piercings, inexperienced!reader, dom!ellie, sub!reader, player!ellie, v brief masturbation, brief drugs, fucking in an inconvenient place, intense foreplay, teasing, cursing, finger-sucking, nipple-sucking, cunnilingus, fingering, sorta mean!ellie, kiiiinda brat!reader

taglist: @shewantstoknow @iluvgrlsblog @kitaanah @yumimak @babesmwah @lawofblla @elliesfavgf @4ftergloww @circe-is-struggling @seraphicsentences @we-loveebony @marrycv @lavenderhazelsworld

“…God forgives all, does He not?”

days go by and within each one, ellie plays a more prominent role in your routine. everywhere you go she’s just there. you also catch her looking at you: whether it’s in class or in church service. this begins to be a massive bother since she’s making things incredibly difficult.

your body is also starting to experience changes. every single time without fail, whenever your gaze would meet hers, you would feel your heart start to pick up the pace, and a strange yet eerily familiar throbbing sensation between your legs occur. whenever your cunt would flex, you would try to squeeze your thighs together, hoping to ease it, but it’d only make things worse.

as much as you’d hate to admit, you subconsciously know exactly what’s wrong with you. these nights, whilst trying to fall asleep, you’ve been letting your mind wander. thinking all these sinful thoughts surrounding ellie that you in the past would’ve never even dared to. you don’t even know where this is all coming from — all because of the sports day incident, really?

you feel disgusting, but you can’t seem to stop. it’s as if a little creature inside you has been roused awake and is starving.

it’s currently 12 in the morning. every girl in your dorm is overcome with drowse — gently snoozing away and filling the room with the sound of soft breathes. every girl but you, who’s wide awake. you, who can feel the creature within you snarl and whine with hunger, you who can’t stop imagining what it’d feel like if ellie were to fuck you and you who’s fingers are starting to creep down your white cotton night-gown. your head begins to be overclouded by yearn and arousal as your fingers prudently brush up against your clothed cunt. your breath hitches and you slightly squirm; ellie’s face and her demeanour embellished in your mind. you’re about to continue trailing down this path of wickedness until you hear somebody stir in their sleep, making you jolt and immediately pull your hand away; snapping you out of the indecent daze.

your eyes glance up at the huge crucifix held above the door. you can feel Jesus’ hard, judgemental gaze cast upon you and you feel morbid. this influences you to get up and skulk to the school’s chapel. you need to thoroughly apologise for your godless actions after all.

as you kneel, you feel your knees sink against the cold cushion of one of the pillars. you take a deep breath, doing the sign of the cross and clenching your eyes shut.

“forgive me, father, for i have sinned…”

but then your mind goes blank. you have no idea what to say, too afraid to mutter what you’ve been doing aloud. your mouth slightly opens, expecting words to spill out, but there’s nothing.

as you’re still figuring something to say, you suddenly smell a strong poignant scent of earth and musk. your eyes immediately shoot open. it’s way too smelly to be incense. you scan the area only to see that there’s nobody there, but the smell is just way too distracting for you to continue your prayer. you feel compelled to figure out where the scent is coming from — leading you to an abandoned curtain in the far corner of the room. you immediately draw the curtain open.

ellie stares up at you like a deer caught in headlights, a lit blunt hanging out of her lips. she’s sat on a plastic stool, wearing a fitted black tank top and flannel pyjama bottoms. your jaw slightly drops at the sight of her. her eyebrows raise as she stares you down, seemingly relieved it wasn’t one of the sisters that had caught her.

“nice nightgown.” you frown. you couldn’t believe what she was doing. in the holiest place in the building, to add!

“you want?” she continues, holding it up to you. you gasp softly and vigorously shake your head.

“what are you doing?” you ask dumbly. ellie chuckles amusedly.

“if you’re gonna tell on me, just tell.” cockiness oozes from her tone. it pisses you off.

“why are you smoking?” you hiss, “i mean, do you have at least an ounce of respect?”

ellie stares at you with half-lidded eyes, carelessly taking another drag. she exhales a little plume of smoke.

“sorry princess…” she drawls, her gaze trained on you as the corner of her lips arch up into a small smirk. lo and behold, the same old throbbing makes itself known again — only this time with such intensity that it surprises you. you’re speechless.

the cocky little smirk never leaves ellie’s face. she gets up, flicking the joint away. besides, it’s clear she’s now interested in something someone else. she walks over to you whilst you feel your brain slowly turn into mush.

“joint’s gone… you happy?” she mutters, her tone low and sultry. the air suddenly feels too thick. ellie slightly cocks her head to the side when you don’t respond. you can sense the starving creature inside you salivate for the taste of ellie’s lips. you helplessly wonder if they taste sweet, or maybe bitter from the weed.

you sigh, your eyes briefly fluttering closed.

“it’s all your fault…” you find yourself muttering.

ellie’s eyebrows raise. “oh?”

“do you know what you’ve been doing to me?” you continue, your rage beginning to re-surface. you’ve spent years trying to resist the constraints of sin yet ellie’s brought that all down in a week.

“enlighten me.”

“you’re—“ you purse your lips, feeling butterflies furiously swarm in your stomach. “you’re driving me insane.”

ellie’s smile slightly falters, shifting into a more serious look. she steps even closer to you, now only mere inches away.

“well, the feeling’s mutual.”

“that’s not supposed to be a good thing.” you retort, despite the inner storm brewing inside of you. you’re great at playing it cool, though you subtly sink your nails into your palm to check if you’re not dreaming.

“mmh… you wanna know what was a good thing though? when you sat your pretty ass on my lap the other day.” she gauges your reaction, biting her lip in amused anticipation.

your jaw drops before you look around as if anyone else is in here but you two. “don’t say stuff like that!”

ellie giggles, the sound of it echoing through the chapel. it sounds like vanilla. she enjoys how flustered you look. her eyes drift down to the way you’re not-so-subtly squeezing your thighs together: one leg in front of the other.

“you good?” her gaze hinting to your legs. you glance down, not even realising you were doing that.

“i‘m fine.” you spit, lying through your teeth. you ask yourself if you should leave, staring at the floor so not even realising how close ellie has just stepped right now.

she stares at you before her thumb and index cup your chin, making you look back up at her. your eyes slightly widen, clearly not expecting that. ellie’s eyes drift to your lips.

“it’s okay, you know? God forgives all, does He not?” she whispers, her thumb tracing along your bottom lip. you don’t pull away. the devil was chipping away at your chastity and you were letting it. you were letting it.

“not much of a talker…” she mutters, her thumb slightly dragging your lip down. you feel something unleash inside of you.

and then you do the unthinkable.

way too stimulated and awoken, you abruptly lean in and press your lips against ellie’s. turns out they do taste sweet after all. ellie’s eyes widen in surprise before happily kissing you back; latching her hands against your back and pulling you closer. your creature hums in satisfaction as what was once a light kiss quickly shifts into a sloppy make-out sesh. tongues gliding together, the sound of smooches filling the room. you can feel her spider-bites plink against the right side of your face. its coldness feels both refreshing and ticklish. you have no idea what’s come over you, but you’re enjoying this. a muffled whimper escapes your lips as you cup ellie’s cheek, feeling dizzy. ellie pulls away; a line of drool briefly connecting your lips. she grabs your hand and sniffs it. you stare at her in bewilderment — is this what people normally do before fornicating?

“you been playing with yourself or something?” ellie snorts. and here you were thinking that there’s no possible way you could embarrass yourself more…

“keep talking and i’ll change my mind about this.” you return, so obviously avoiding the question. ellie giggles, before leaving a small wet kiss on the back of your unclean hand. your blush deepens. grinning, she decides to take things a step further by putting your middle finger in her mouth, sucking it as she makes sure to maintain eye contact. your lips part, staring at her in disbelief. she‘s clearly teasing: her flattened tongue curling against the tip of your finger. you’re so turned on that it’s hard to think.

“you were playing with yourself. it tastes good.” she murmurs in a smug manner before pulling you into another kiss — this one, a lot more intense. everything seems to be going so fast, but you don’t care. you thread your fingers through ellie’s hair, chest pressed against chest.

whilst you two practically eat each other’s faces off, ellie’s hands slowly snake down your back; grabbing your ass. you gasp but before you’ve got the time to properly react, ellie’s already gently pushing you down onto the discarded altar behind you two.

the small cross on your necklace is merely an accessory by now; you’re far too gone, way beyond salvage.

“close the curtains.” you mutter breathlessly, your eyes glazed over, pupils dilated. you prop yourself up on your elbows.

“yes ma’am.” she then comes back, shifting attention to your neck. you let out a shuddered sigh as she peppers your neck with sloppy little kisses. when she finds your sweet spot, your breath hitches. she smirks against your flesh before abusing that spot some more; nibbling and sucking on it. you bite your lip as to suppress a loud whimper.

at the same time, her hand finds your breast; lightly cupping it between her palm. her thumb brushes against your dressed nipple and you shiver. next thing you know, she has her mouth on it — which, at this point, is as hard as a pebble. your body jolts when you feel her tongue slowly circling around the bud; the fabric covering it turning transparent. she does the same with the other nipple. you feel your warmth mingle in with hers; her scent invading your nostrils. she smells like a forest, and you’re willing to burn in it. with a “pop” she pulls away, staring at you.

“you sure you want it?” she asks, her gaze never leaving yours. she needed to make sure. losing your virginity in a chapel is a pretty huge thing after all…

yet you don’t just want it, you need it. hence why you nod in an almost frantic manner. ellie beams, planting a tender kiss on the top of your knee before slowly spreading your legs apart. you’re glad you’re in a secluded space in the chapel. you weren’t up for seeing emblems and statues of Jesus leering at you. nor Mary, nor Moses, nor Gabriel.

ellie raises your dress up so it’s laying on your stomach. her thumb traces circles on your outer thighs whilst her lips are set on the inner part; implementing kind kisses. you can already feel tingles coarse through your body, and you appreciate how ellie’s taking her sweet time, but you do also want her to get on with it already.

“hurry.” you whine. ellie chuckles.

“am i not allowed to make this the best experience for you?” she quips. her lips are starting to enter dangerous territory; pecking the edge of your panties. your body involuntarily jerks, evoking yet another amused reaction from ellie.

“so sassy for someone who’s so sensitive.” she taunts. you pout and clamp your legs shut in response — too embarrassed at the way ellie’s staring at your crotch and poking fun. ellie giggles.

“oh no, no, no.” she says, forcing them back open again. “act like a brat and maybe i’ll be the one changing my mind about this.”

she then places a heavy kiss right in the middle of your crotch. despite your underwear still being on, you felt that strongly. an uncontrollable moan escapes your lips; a noise accidentally too loud.

“shhhh… you know what? open your mouth.” you do as she says, and she leans up and stuffs the raised up section of your gown in your mouth; like a gag. you stare at her with big eyes.

to tease even more, ellie leans down and slowly trails her flattened tongue up your dressed pussy. you let out a muffled moan, your back slightly arching.

“yeah… that’ll shut you up.” she says smugly before her finger twirls itself around the side of your panties, pulling it down. you feel the fresh breeze hit your cunt and your eyes momentarily clench shut. this is it. finally.

ellie never stops with the kissing. it’s pretty damn obvious you’ve never done this before so she wants to be initially polite; saving the roughness for later. she kisses your clit, the tip of her tongue swirling around the nub. you groan in pleasure, your teeth sinking hard against your dress. despite her obnoxious behaviour, ellie’s pleasing you like you’re a goddamn queen: head slowly bobbing up and down, lips tugging at your folds.

she’s savouring you as if you’re a precious meal. your hand quickly finds itself in ellie’s hair; gripping it tightly the more ellie goes down on you.

“fuck.” ellie groans. your hand on her hair increases her arousal and it drives her to slightly pick up the pace. you don’t notice, but she’s lightly grinding against the table; letting out a few muffled moans of her own.

she increases the pressure on her tongue — to which you respond to delightfully: arching your back and your moans beginning to crescendo. you twitch and quiver as ellie devours you; going to town on your sensitive cunt. you start to feel overwhelmingly good, causing you to unintentionally squirm away from ellie’s mouth.

“don’t run away…” she coos. as she pulls your thighs back to her, she plunges her middle finger in your cunt. caught off guard, you let out a suppressed cry. ellie smirks as she resumes the movements with her mouth. you feel so good that your hips buckle up: desperate for more. her finger curls up against your g-spot and your eyes roll to the back of your head.

eventually, ellie adds her ring finger too. the erotic noises of ellie finger-fucking you fills the room. ellie grips your thigh with her free hand so that you don’t escape again; pleasuring you relentlessly.

your head is completely blank and you’re pulsating with pleasure. you can’t stop shuddering. ellie can tell by the way your walls are eagerly squeezing around her fingers that you’re getting close, so she leans up and takes the dress out of your mouth; a thick tendril of saliva clinging from your mouth. the sight of it turns her on in unimaginable ways.

“feels good, huh?” she mutters, her fingers banging up against your g-spot repeatedly. you bite your lip, trying not to be too loud but it’s hard. you’re a hot mess; eyes half-lidded, needy whines escaping your lips, jaw slack.

“can’t even speak…? come on, i wanna hear you.” ellie taunts, fucking you harder. you squeal; feeling a knot starting to untie in your stomach.

“feels so good… i love it. sweet jesus…” you babble, almost incoherently.

“jesus? jesus isn’t making you feel this good, i am. say my name.” she demands.

“e-ellie… something’s happening…” you mewl. ellie smirks before planting wet, sloppy kisses on your chest. “good girl… such a pretty fucking girl…” she mumbles, leaning down and sucking on your pussy yet again. she can’t seem to get enough of how you taste. your hand grips the back of her head and you push it closer, her nose rubbing against your vulva.

you swear you’re starting to see stars, your muscles beginning to unclench. you scream ellie’s name; forgetting how loud you’re being.

“let it out. make a mess all over my mouth, my fingers.” ellie sounds like she’s almost pleading, her voice hot and husky, fanning your aching cunt.

and that was your cue. you feel your wind get knocked out as you attempt to cry out, feeling as if you’ve lost your breath. your eyes once again roll to the back of your head as you endure an insanely pleasurable orgasm; trembling as if your life depends on it. ellie keeps going just for a little moment in order to extend your high. tears stream down your face. ellie takes her fingers out, and even that feels good.

“haa… you okay?” she whispers, wiping the tears from your face with her thumb. you don’t even feel real. too weak to speak, you simply nod.

ellie smiles: a warm, tender smile compared to her usual conceited attitude. like a gentleman, she pulls your panties back up and your dress back down. she glances at you — enjoying the spent, hazy look on your face. she’d like to see that more often.

“that’s weird… i thought the guilt would kick in by now.” you mutter, feeling exhausted instead. ellie giggles.

“shit, maybe tomorrow.”

“maybe.”

a/n: omfg i swr i got possessed whilst writing this JFC!!!!! also such a coincidence i’m posting this on sunday… the day of the lord… hhahahaha….

— free gaza from the river to the sea 🇵🇸 please remember to keep talking about it and spreading awareness!!

[the-fiction-witch]

Lil Lady

Media - Godless (Netflix) Character - Whitey Winn (Teenager) Couple - Whitey X Reader Reader - Y/n (Teenager) Rating - Smut Word Count - 2396

(Underage 17 Year Olds! Warning!! This was requested! and I did look it up New Mexico which is where Laballe is in 1888 the AOC was 16 but still I added a warning!)

I grabbed my jacket from the hook beside the door, slipping the brown leather over myself, I grabbed my hat, pushed back my hair and sat it on my head, giving my upper lip a slight stroke to keep the hair presentable.

“Alright… night Sheriff,” I told him,

“Night whitey, careful in your walk home,” Bill told me from his desk,

“I'll be fine,” I answered as I pulled open the door headed out the sheriff's office, and began making my way down the porch, little did he know. I ain't going home.

I snuck my way across town doing my best not to be spotted by anyone who might rat me out before I arrived at the stables, I fixed my gun belts, my shirt and my face giving my breath a check before I snuck inside. I walked the hay and straw-covered floor passing the few horses in for the night, giving my horse Ted a rub on the nose as I passed him. Before I walked to the last stable merely used for storage and that's where I saw her.

Y/n stood fixing some of the hay into a make shift-cosy corner in her usual boots, stockings, little purple dress, her Y/H/C hair in a sweet updo, her little skin glimmering in the light of the lantern hung above, she hummed to herself a little as she worked.

I let my smirk grow and tipped my hat a little up my head before leaning my arm on the stable doorway, I parted my lips and wolf-whistled at her.

"Phhuuwwweeeeet-Phheeew!"

She stood and turned to face me her hand on her hip, "Evening,"

"Evenin' Y/n" I smirked back,

"What are you doing here Deputy Winn?" she teased,

"Humm, well just lookin' after Labelle lil lady," I teased her back, "Why? what are you doin' here?"

"Nothing much," she shrugged, "Just wonderin' if I may get a visit from a handsome deputy boy tonight?"

"Well that depends, don't it? Your daddy know you're out?"

"No," she cooed coming closer,

"Humm, You let anyone see ya on the way?"

"No," she came even closer,

"Hummm... Ya fancy a roll in the hay with the deputy?"

"Mhm," she now stood within my reach,

"Well then, one last question lil lady," I smirked wrapping my arms around her waist,

"Yes, whitey?" she giggled wrapping her arms around my neck,

"Ya think ya can be quiet?" I smirked rubbing the tip of my nose on hers,

"Never." she shook her head,

"That's my girl," I smirked pulling her into a hot and heavy kiss, "Ummm I've missed ya, lil lady," I kissed her passionately stroking my hands over that perfect body, she kissed me harder and clawed her nails at the back of my jumper, I eagerly pulled back lifting her up under her thighs and laying her down in the hay with me sitting over her with my legs either side of her, I smirked and began slipping my jumper off, before unbuttoning every button of the shirt but keeping it on just in case we got disturbed, quickly returning to her lips holding her face in my hand as we kissed. She stroked her hand down to my belt "Impaient tonight lil lady," I cooed,

"I've missed you," she pouted squirming her little hips against the hay,

"Have ya now? Humm well your daddy has kept my lil lady locked up in that big old house without me to take care of her. Not surprised you're a little... desperate for me Y/n," I smirked as I pulled off my belts, she took no time to grab my hands and moved them to the hem of her dress, I reconnected our lips and slowly pulled up her dress pushing higher and higher to her waist, as our tounges began to explore one another's mouths my hands trailed down luckily feeling her stockings where only thigh highs so I didn't need to tug them down, I grabbed her thighs giving them a good squeeze which made her gasp, I had to admit I stopped and admired her lower body. I kissed her neck and kissed down her chest squeezing her breast through her dress, "fuck ya feel so good!" I groaned but forced me back to her lips by my hair and grabbed me by the hem of my trousers forcing the gap between us to close.

"Ummmm ya really have missed me lil lady." I growled quickly, undoing them and pulling out my hard shaft, stroking her hand across myself tenderly so I knew I was at my best for her, "uhhhh!" I gasped my head throwing back a little, she smirked and opened her legs wide stroking her pussy almost invitingly and I sure as hell didn't need to be told twice, I held the base of my shaft to guide myself expecting some difficulty given I hadn't used my hands or my mouth for her but she was soaked! I slipped in so easily you'd think I'd have been eating her out for three hours! But she felt so good! Everything I have ever wanted to feel around me! Uhh, I admit I think I went a bit crazy "Ughhh! Y/n! lil lady! Ummmm! Ya so wet... Ummmm ya must have been beggin' for me," I groaned, I wasted no time to absolutely fucking destroy her! we both tried to be quiet but often let small groans and moans slip often kissing just to keep quiet, which only made me want to be harder and more intense, I knew I was close ... "Y/n... Lil lady, please... Uhhhh! I need ya!" I whined kissing her neck and leaving her with a few hard hickeys

"a little longer whitey... please," she gripped my arms and started to dig her nails into my skin,

"umm yeah? ya close ya need me lil lady, we both know ya need me as bad as I need ya, come on... just a lil scream for me? Maybe your daddy might hear ya and see his cute little daughter getting fuckin' raw dogged by the town deputy" I growled making sure to keep going I knew I was so desperate biting my lip and squeezing my eye shut trying to do hard not to cum just yet but I didn't have to wait long as she tightened around me and squirting down onto the hay squealing in my ear not loud enough to be heard outside the stable but that nose was enough to take me over the edge, "uuuuuuuhhh-uuughhhh!" I buried myself as deep inside her as possible my hips jerking in odd angles beyond my control "fuck -" I gasped, "I love ya, Y/n..."

"I love you too whitey," she giggled a little we both laughed and shared a sweet kiss before we cuddled up in the pile of hay.

I sat at my desk fiddling with an old dented bullet I found lying around, tossing and rolling it between my fingers without much of a thought as Bill sat at his own desk doing ... I don't know, I didn't ask.

Suddenly the office door flew open and immediately I knew something was up, it was Y/n's father he marched in and glanced around the office until he saw me.

“You little bastard.” He yelled before he grabbed me by the jumper and forced me from my seat lifting me like I was nothing and tossing me onto the hard dusty dirt outside, of course, I yelled and everyone began to crowd around. “You really think you are gonna get away with this. You dirty little bastard. After what you did to my daughter!” He yelled as he began kicking me hard in the stomach so much so that I coughed blood, without even a chance to get to my gunbelt.

“Daddy stop please!” Y/n begged him as he forced him away from me, “Please Daddy it wasn't his fault.”

“No! Not his fault he knocked you up!”

“I what!” I coughed,

“You knocked my baby girl up! She's seventeen you pervert!”

“So am I!” I choked out not sure why I thought that would help me but my head was spinning and I was very much in pain,

“You little fucker I'll kill you!” He yelled grabbing one of my guns and pointing it at me,

“No! Daddy please!” Y/n screamed,

“Drop the weapon!” Bill demanded pointing his shotgun at her father's head,

“Are you okay whitey?!” she came to comfort me holding my head in her hands,

“Just peachy lil lady” I groaned as she slowly helped me to sit up,

“Thanks for waitin' till after I got the shit kicked out of me,” I complained,

“You knocked her up whitey I ain't stopping her daddy kicking your head in,” Bill said,

“That's fair.” I sighed,

“drop it, sir.”

“He knocked up my daughter I'm blowing his brains out” her father yelled,

“Whitey may be a very very stupid boy and believe me you are well within your rights to kick the shit out of him however. That is my deputy and you pull that trigger, I'm pulling this one we clear?”

He groaned but dropped my gun,

“Look… I know I fucked up, but I promise ya I never meant to get Y/n in trouble. And … I know we're young but I'm more than happy to marry her. Help her through all this. Raise our little one together” I cooed holding her hand,

“You mean it whitey?”

“Course I do, I love ya lil lady, and I love our lil baby too,” I told her I tried to kiss her but he grabbed her by her hair and dragged her away, "Y/n!" I screamed in panic grabbing my gun from the ground, "Let her go." I demanded,

"How I discipline my slut of a daughter is no concern of yours," he told me,

"Whitey put it down," Bill demanded,

"Yeah... problem is, you just told me she's pregnant. means you're manhandling the mother of my child and the baby inside her! let her go, or I will blow your fucking brains out."

"You don't have the nerve," her father smirked,

I pulled the hammer back on my gun aiming it squarely in the centre of his forehead, "Try me."

He let her go so I lowered my gun,

"You are not to see my daughter again,"

"But I-"

"I don't care! You are not to see my daughter ever again!" He demanded, "You are not to see her, look at her, think about her,"

"She's pregnant, let me do the right thing and marry her. I promise I'll take care of her."

"You've done enough!"

"Then what about the baby, My child! You expect me to never look at them?"

"Trust me, they won't be staying here not near you." He said, "Y/n come on. Home."

"Daddy please I-" she began,

"Now!" he demanded,

"I- I'm sorry whitey," she said between her tears,

"Y/n... Lil lady please..." I begged her, but she followed her father.

I did my best not to be discovered as I stood around the side of the house, I held my breath watching as the door slammed shut and her father headed down the porch and towards the Labelle saloon, as soon as he was gone I smirked and climbed up the wall into the window. Where she was sitting in bed in her cute little white maternity dress with her little baby bump, she sat on her bed knitting and I almost wanted to cry.

"Awww Lil lady, ya look so adorable!" I cooed,

"Hi whitey," she giggled,

"Come here," I cooed sitting on her bed and peppering her face with kisses, "and come here you," I cooed kissing her bump, "aww hello lil one, I know I know daddy missed ya too," I whined,

"he's been kicking all day missing his daddy,"

"I know, I know I'm sorry. I wish your father went out more often. I feel like I've barely seen ya,"

"I know, I keep trying to make him go out,"

"I wish I could come cuddle ya every day, I miss our little one so much."

"I do too," she smiled, "I know you'd want your head glued to my belly Whitey,"

"Course I do, I wanna hear and feel every inch our lil one moves," I cooed peppering her tummy with kisses, "Last time I was here he was half this size,"

"I know, he's getting bigger every day,"

"He'll be arriving soon," I cooed, "Y/n..."

"Yes, whitey?"

"I know we have both been tryin' to talk to your father..." I sighed, "And neither of us is gettin' anywhere with him we've tried everythin' we can. And ya know the moment the baby comes, he'll pack ya up and send ya off east with your aunt." I told her holding her bump and looking into her beautiful Y/e/C eyes,

"I know..." she said sadly stroking her bump,

"But I have an idea,"

"An idea?"

"Pack ya stuff, lil lady." I cooed,

"What?!"

"Pack up, take everythin' we need, load Ted up and head off west, buy ourselves a bit of land with our savin's and raise our baby together. I couldn't be happier, a little place with my lil lady, my lil baby." I cooed, "We can start our life together as soon as the baby comes, just come with me. And I'll marry ya first chapel we find on the road!"

"Whitey do... do you mean it?"

"I mean it!" I kissed her forehead, "Just come with me,"

"...yes." She gasped,

"You- Ya will!"

"I will, help me pack up things for baby and we'll be gone before he gets home."

"Let's do this lil lady," I cooed kissing her sweet lips,

We packed up her room with all her little dresses, her trinkets and all the little things for the baby. I packed myself up and we loaded up our bags onto Ted, I helped Y/n up onto the horse and I climbed on behind her my hands taking the reins and sitting on her thighs, often stroking her baby bump,

"Ya need to stop just tell me?"

"I will," she nodded,

"You ready lil lady?"

"I'm ready," she cooed, "Let's go,"

"Let's go." I nodded, "I love ya, Y/n,"

"I love you too Whitey,"

We shared a gentle kiss and I gave Ted a gentle kick and we started off on a slow walk out of Labelle and away to a whole new future together.

[lostsunlight]

CHAPTER 12 - BREACH THE SURFACE

childe x reader, wc: 3.5k, masterlist, Ao3

cw: nsfw, violence, murder,

Somehow, he survived. You dragged him into the apartment not caring who saw you - it seemed everyone was too busy recovering from the attack to notice anyways. Childe was still coughing and retching. He doubles over and throws up into the sink, black flakes with an odd purple sheen mixed in. You scrunch your nose and flick your hand to wash it down the sink.

The Abyss, the very thing that had plagued Mondstadt, now it was coming back to haunt you in a new form. Memories of Mondstadt seemed to follow you like a shadow. Another thing to add to the list of why you should hate Childe.

“Feel a bit better?” He swallowed and nodded, still panting 

“Yeah, I think I got most of it out. I’m just cold and soaked now”

You had never seen him look weak, you could almost understand why he wouldn’t want his underlings to see him like this. What a contrast it would be to see their fearless leader look like death had given him a slap on the back. 

You couldn't see any visible cuts on him at least but he still smelt like the rot of the abyss, still had the singe of electro on him. It was strange, he had been slashed clean across the chest again but in that wretched form he sustained no permanent injury.

He was freezing to the touch. Eventually you managed to drag him to the bathroom, slowly you peeled his damp clothes off along with yours. Neither of you cared about the nudity at this point just wanting to move away from the edge of being frozen. 

You used your vision to fill up the bath with warm water. Steam curling off it in delicate tendrils instantly making the air feel a little less frigid. He sighed deeply as he relaxed into the water. You followed him in, curling up at the other end, letting the warmth seep into your rain-soaked bones. 

You let out a small sigh before turning your attention to him. Deep bags underneath his eyes were still there but his skin seemed a little more pink now. You had never seen him look so out of sorts, despite the lack of fresh wounds on his body he radiated malaise.

“How are you feeling?” You tucked your legs up to your chest, squinting as your shoulder twinged in pain.

He massages his neck, tilting it from side to side. “Not great, I overused my Foul Legacy. The abyssal energy took too much from me this time. At least I'm not coughing it up anymore”

“How long does it take to recover” You asked, trying to gauge what you needed to do

He shrugged “Generally the longer and harder I use it the worse the recovery is”

“How many times have you used it then?” 

“Only sparingly, I don't exactly want the world to know about it. Takes away the surprise” A small smile tugs at the edge of his lips as he says that

“Ever the tactician. So, what now?”

“We keep on going. I don't have long, maybe a few hours but I need to get back to Northland. Having a Harbinger missing wouldn't be a great look” 

He looked exhausted, but underneath that there was a troubled look. He stared up at the ceiling, brows knotted together

“There's something else on your mind”

“I didn't get the gnosis, I did all of this and still failed. I failed the Tsaritsa” The water around you started to feel like a current, flowing just under the surface and Childe’s anger grew. 

“I nearly drowned a whole city, nearly lost your trust and for what? A fight that I lost anyway. It wasn’t worth doing all of that. All this harm for no good, nothing to show for it. My chance to prove myself to Cap- The other Harbingers, gone ”

“There has to be another way right? You can still salvage this and prove yourself? This can't be the end.” You said, trying to coax him away from spiralling

Childe sunk into the water and flung his arm across his face “You’re right, A Harbinger doesn't get knocked down that easily” 

“There he is” You softly say, at least he's getting his bite back. 

Turning your attention to your shoulder you could see a purple bruise blooming, acutely aware of Childe’s gaze you drew up some water using your hand and formed it around your shoulder. You let out a little huff and bit your lip, letting the pain flow into the water. After a few minutes the bruising eased.

“Your getting good at this” He comments, leaning in to inspect your injured shoulder

“Thanks, I learned it from Baizhu. I still can't fully heal something but I can ease it a little, take the edge off”

“How did you manage that impressive bruise?”

You flushed and looked away in embarrassment “I crashed into the Golden House when I saw Osial, I got spooked when I saw it and lost control”

“How on Teyvat did you managed to crash into the Golden House?” He sat back with an surprised look on his face

“You know that night by the campfire when you first taught me to fight?” He nodded “You mentioned some vision users being able to turn into pure elemental form. I saw you do it at the Golden House to escape, I followed you. I lost track of you because of the rain and the battle though”

“I didn’t know you could do that, especially without training”

“I don't think I could do it again if I’m being honest, at least not on command. I was so blinded by rage and fear that I just… let it take over me. That and the storm helped me draw some power”

“Rage? Fear?” He tilted his head “There are better ways to channel elemental energy” He said jokingly 

“I-I don't know” you hug your head “Everything just happened so quickly, there's a lot you didn't tell me you know. The delusion, the gnosis. Then there's the second god I’ve seen abandon their nation”

“You finally have reason for your doubts huh?” He prompted you on 

“I suppose. When you summoned Osial to draw out Rex Lapis, Some part of me hoped that he would show up, but he didn’t. He all but abandoned his people. Its sad that I had to see you nearly drown a whole city to see that” 

A flash of guilt came across his face “I only did it to draw out Rex Lapis, I also thought he would show up. I only went that far for the Tsaritsa. Guess we both learnt the same lesson”

“I still don’t know if I can follow any god… but maybe” You paused and took a breath “Maybe the Tsaritsa might be a good choice. What exactly does she plan to do?”

Childe reaches out and grabs both your hands “I want a new contract, Rex Lapis isn’t dead yet.” You slip your hand away from his, falling back into the water, shaking your head.

“Why tell me these things in the first place if I have to swear to keep them a secret? Wouldn’t you be breaking rules”

“I-I don't know, I just want to keep you around for a little longer. Maybe if you join the Fatui you can do that”

Of course the contract, it had been fulfilled, you were now free of your obligation to him

“Childe, The whole reason I made a deal with you in the first place was to gain my own freedom. How can I be free if I'm chained to another Archon?”

“Because she will bring freedom to all of us, this I can swear. If you follow the Tsaritsa to the end of her plan you will never have to swear loyalty or serve another god again. Plus isn’t it freedom to choose what you want to do with your life? You can choose to join us”

“...You make a fair point.” You reach out and grab his hands again, hoping your blind trust might lead you somewhere. Despite all he had done, the sins he had committed you wanted to stay by him for a little longer as well

He squeezes your hands “Swear you’ll never tell a soul that I told you any of this. You’ll never tell anyone about the Tsaritsa's plans”

“I swear” Another twinge up your forearm, a small golden glow around your hands and forearms that sunk into your skin.

Childe bites his lip “I can’t tell you absolutely everything but seeing as you know about gnoeses…”

“That's the thing that every Archon has, right? You told me that was what you were after when we first got to Liyue” You move a little closer towards him and lean in ever so slightly, interested to hear what he has to say

He nods “She wants to collect the power of the seven gnoses of Teyvat and use their collective power to bring down the heavens and create a new world order, one where man could rule freely without the eyes of Celestia gazing down upon them at every turn”

He paused and pulled you closer “Dragonspine wasn’t always eternally cold you know, they hit the top of the mountain with a nail that wiped out Sal Vindagnyr, the civilization that thrived on Dragonspine before. They had their favour until they didn't, one little thing and an entire city is wiped out on a whim”

Your eyes widened and he continued “The Cataclysm that happened five-hundred years ago, That was Celestia wiping out every remnant of a nation without gods. They will cause untold destruction to maintain their iron rule of Teyvat” 

You swallowed trying to take everything he just said in and process it. 

“So what you're saying is that Celestia wiped out these civilisations and in turn the Tsaritsa wants a world without gods and to do that she wants to wage a war against the heavens? What about the Tsaritsa isn’t she a god herself?”

“I don't know, her true plans are for herself and only herself to know”

“And the delusion, is that a mockery of Celestia? An attempt to imitate a god's blessing?”

“Something like that, I’m not too involved with that side of things, its more Dottore’s realm”

You looked down and swallowed, now considerably closer to Childe than you were at the start of the bath. He reached out and cupped your face, you lifted your gaze to make eye-contact with him. His eyes still had no shine, but his smile showed something genuine. 

“Y/N, stay, even if it's just for a little while longer.” he said softly “I can’t figure out what I feel for you let alone put it into words, I swore to love nobody else but the Tsaritsa, but you’re making me begin to question it”

This man who had stood for everything you opposed. On that fateful night where you had first met at the bottom of Starfell Lake. His role was to harm and yours to heal, he was a creature, at least in part, of the abyss. Everything dictated that you should hate him. Yet, deep down, you knew you were falling ever so slowly for him, even if you never wanted to admit it but maybe, just maybe you could bury it down and remain with him for a bit longer. 

You pressed your forehead to his and closed your eyes “OK, I’ll stick around”

He sighed “Thank you”

He angled your head slightly, eyes half lidded. You made the first move and gently kissed him. It was unlike the other time you had kissed him, that had been an outburst of desperation and pure willingness to avoid talking about the problem. But this, this was soft and sweet with no intention of it being anything else. A kiss for kisses sake. 

Breath intermingled with one another's, you opened your mouth a scant inch and he took every advantage of that. He curled his hand around the back of your head and your hands found his shoulders. 

Eventually, you broke apart. “C’mon the waters getting cold and you have to be at Northland”

“Yeah, your right” He chucked against your lips

✧

You sprinted up the giant flight of stairs to Bubu pharmacy. Debris was strewn across Liyue Harbour. It had only been hours after the storm had ended but people had begun to crowd the streets. A few shopkeepers cleaning up outside their stores.

You came to a stop, slightly panting, at the top of the stairs. Looking around Baizhu and Qiqi were mulling around inside. Qiqi was mopping the front and Baizhu was taking stock of herbs. He turns around to see you

“Y/N, I’m glad to see you safe after that whole ordeal”

“As am I, I came as quickly as I could. Of course this would happen on my day off” You half joke

“No need to worry, we're ok. Aside from some water damage to some herbs everything's alright. It is your day off Y/N, you don’t need to stick around” Baizhu said, turning back to continue taking inventory of the soaked herbs and medicines 

“I just wanted to check in. That and I assume some people would have been injured in the storm, I came by to help”

Baizhu frowns for a second and nods “I guess you're right, there are a few people upstairs. Most of them are minor injuries, thankfully. I believe a troupe of local emergency healers have been dispatched by the Qixing for the more severe cases we couldn't effectively treat here. I'll keep you updated if anyone else comes in”

You nod, “Thank you, I'll start right away” 

✧

Childe dried off and made his way to the bank, he still felt awful but at least he didn't like he was on the brink of death anymore. People stared at him as he strolled the streets to the bank, He didn’t take much notice of it but the closer he got to Northland the more he could feel their eyes burning a hole in the back of his head. Nodding at Vlad he stepped into the opulent interior, only to see Signoria and Zhongli conversing.

“Signoria, what are you doing here?” He said in a tense tone, even just being near that woman made him want to rip her to pieces. 

“Finishing what you started Childe” She snarked, looking up up and down with disdain and crossing her arms

“You call this "cooperation between Harbingers"? Cooperation involves communication, you know” He snarled, He wouldn’t let her take another victory from him again. 

Signoria laughed, smirking at him “Don't take it to heart, Childe. Besides, weren't you happy that you got to skip the formalities and bring chaos to the land? I'm sure you must've enjoyed that” She said in a soft, drawling voice. She paused as the doors opened again to reveal the Traveller and Paimon

“Oh, it seems that some of your friends have arrived.” She snapped her head toward him and then back at the new arrivals “It's you two. I believe we've met once before... In the City of Bards, was it? I imagine that it must have been rather hard to forget watching helplessly as something precious was snatched away from your friend.”

Aether looked at Signoria the same way Tartaglia did, with nothing but pure molten hatred. Paimon flitted to Aether's side and mumbled something, Aether seemed to visibly calm down, coaching his expression into one of mild annoyance. 

“Well, if it isn't Aether. This is our first time seeing each other since Liyue was nearly wiped off the map. This is certainly a bit... awkward, wouldn't you say?” He said, desperately trying to lighten the mood after the battle that had happened a mere few hours ago 

“Hmph, Paimon knew that we should never have trusted a Fatui Harbinger.” She crossed her arms and floated a little lower, glowering at him. Childe was glad that all of the people that could say that it was Paimon. 

“Aw, now don't say that. Sure, I may have misled you, but I never had anything against you personally. Besides, I thought we were getting along quite well together, didn't you? Except for that little tussle we had at the end.”

“You deceived us! Used us!” The Traveller snapped

“The real deceivers here are Signoria and Zhongli.” He retorted 

“Stop wasting time, Childe. There'll be plenty of time to chat once I'm through here.”

She turned to Morax and held her hand out “You remember the agreement, Morax. Now, if you would be so kind... The Gnosis please.” The voice dropping into something more sinister 

Agreement? That bitch! Signoria had swooped under his nose yet again to steal the glory that was so rightfully his. And the gnosis? That means Zhongli isn’t just an adeptus but the Archon himself. He clenched his fists.

Zhongli paused for a little while “The contract is fulfilled. That which thou seeketh is now bestowed unto thee, for my promise is solid as stone”

“Hmph, how sanctimonious” She retorted, a sneer on her face. Zhongli drew the gnosis, it took everything from Childe not to reach out and snatch it from him as he passed it to Signoria.

“Why fake your death Morax? You could have cut the chase and given us the gnosis at the very start” Childe asked, anger rising at the second deceiver

“Gathering all the forces that had been bubbling behind the scenes, and then stirring them together in a pot that was bound to boil over... That's what he wanted to see, am I right?” Signoria said in a mocking tone, inspecting the rook-like gnosis, now solidly in her grasp. 

She was deeper in on this than he thought, she must have been plotting to take this from him the moment she tipped him off about the Sigil at Yangsheng Teahouse. 

Zhongli intervened “Perhaps it's best that I explain. As you know, I've dwelt upon this world for more than six thousand years. It is now 3,700 years ago that I founded Liyue together with The Adepti. Even boulders that can withstand whirlpools will erode with the passing of time. I kept convincing myself that cracks had not begun to form and that the end of my time had not yet come.” 

He took a pause and glanced at everyone there, Paimon and Aether looked on in interest and Signoria looked bored, as if she already knew all of this

“Until one drizzly day, as I was strolling along the harbour, I heard a merchant tell one of his workers, "You've finished your duties, go ahead and call it a day." I stood motionless among the crowds, asking myself, Have I already finished my duties? But as I began to consider relinquishing my divine role, I soon discovered that many reasons still remained to not hastily depart. Was Liyue, the city I had dwelt in for so long, already prepared to enter its next age? I decided that a test was needed in order to reveal the answer.”

Of course this was going to be a long winded explanation, he couldn’t just get to the point

“So I approached Signoria. I knew the Tsaritsa wanted my gnosis and I was willing to give it for a price. But before I was content to leave Liyue in mortals hands I wanted to set up one last test. So, we gathered the cast of Tartaglia, The Adepti and The Qixing” 

‘Oh and each played their role so beautifully” Signoria laughed, hiding her smile behind one hand

“Were you satisfied with the finale?” Childe snarked, growing more and more pissed by the second. All this time he thought he had the reins only for them to be so cruelly cut away. Zhongli and Signoria had wanted him to lose that fight and summon Osial.

“Indeed, I was. The Gnosis I had kept for so many years suddenly seemed to have lost its meaning.” His face never changing from his pensive expression. 

“Let me guess — you had another plan in case it all burned down.” Aether remarked flatly 

“That's right, which is why I continued to safeguard the Gnosis until now.”

“So you mean that if the chaos ever reached the point of no return, you would simply appear and use your divine powers to bring Liyue back under control?” Paimon questioned 

Signoria spoke for Morax “Of course. And it would have been all too easy for him, too. Just as a child quickly matures after losing their parents, so has Liyue matured when faced with the death of its deity” 

Zhongli continued, “In the end, the resolution to all that has transpired was even more satisfactory than I could have hoped for. Credit is also due to Signoria, the emissary dispatched by the Cryo Archon to fulfil our contract. At my request, she kept everything she knew in strict confidence — this despite the eavesdropping ears of her colleague, Childe.”

Childe was about to beat this man into the ground, god or not. And The Tsaritsa had dispatched Signoria and not him, how long had she been plotting this for?

“All of these things turned out as I had planned. There is only one thing that I had not anticipated... and that was the conduct of the Liyue Qixing. I had expected them to do no more than The Adepti. To come to the defence of Liyue. But when all was said and done.

They seized the opportunity to supplant Liyue's divine protectors, and used the subsequent power vacuum left by my death to quickly gain complete control of Liyue.”

Rage boiling over he snapped “Hey, what about me? Doesn't anyone feel the least bit of remorse for deceiving me? You've practically kept me in the dark!”

“Hah! I think that thanks would be more appropriate. You certainly played no small part in all of this... Wreaking havoc and turning the city upside down. You must have delighted in it. The Lord of Geo ought to thank you for your performance, if anything.  If you hadn't created the pressure of a battle between mortals, adepti, and a god, the lump of coal resting in the hands of the Geo Archon, Liyue would never have been able to become a dazzling diamond of a city.”

“What? Just whose side are you on, mocking me like that? Are you itching for a fight? You've come out of this as the hero of Liyue. I, on the other hand, will forever be proscribed as a disturber of peace” The faintest hint of electro singed the air

“The cards fell where they did. Well then, with the Gnosis in my possession, I have no use for such idle chatter. We should return to Zapolyarny Palace and seek an audience with Her Majesty, the Tsaritsa. Come, Childe.”

“Ugh, fine... I'll meet you there later. I'm not sharing a boat with the likes of you.” 

“Hmph, do as you wish.” She turned her nose up and strutted out of the building towards the docks. Childe followed a few seconds later, avoiding Signoria he headed straight for the apartment. 

He threw open the door and slammed it behind him. Fuming, he smashed a vase on the ground relishing in hearing it break. He stepped forward crushing the porcelain under his boot. 

All of this work just to be a puppet strung along by Signoria and Zhongli. He had been sent on this mission to prove himself only for The Tsaritsa to have planned for Signoria to step in from the very start. What did he have to do to prove that he wasn’t a child?

And Zhongli, Childe was just about ready to tackle him to the ground and face his godly wrath for that act of deception. He always knew he wasn’t a human, but for him to be a god under his nose? Childe screamed and let out a strike of electro, it hung in the air, cracking. 

On his return to Snezhnaya he would be humiliated in front of the other Harbingers. He took his mask that lay perched on the side of his head and looked at it, it was the representation of himself as a Harbinger, the mask seemed to laugh back at him. Another burst of electro jumped forth just as the door opened.

“Hey! Calm down, you nearly electrocuted me!” He saw you register his state, his back turned to you standing above a shattered vase and your expression changed to one of concern 

“What happened at the bank?” You asked softy, the residual electro energy in the hair made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. 

"What didn’t happen” he huffed, pacing around the room, you stepped into the apartment fully and closed the door behind you. He was still gripping his mask

“ I was never meant to get the gnosis, I was a mere pawn for Signoria and Zhongli to move around as they pleased. I did nothing to prove myself to the other Harbingers and now I look like an impulsive fool! Not to mention Zhongli gave the gnosis directly to Signoria, the bastards had it planned from the very start” He yelled, waving his hands around, his cape flowing behind him like a wave.

There was a flash of confusion across your face as you processed exactly what he had said, piercing together that Zhongli was the allegedly deceased god. You sat down and patted the spot on the couch next to you, reluctantly Childe sat down beside you, letting the mask fall and clatter on the floor.

“All of this was for nothing” He said, voice quieter than before. He rested his head on your shoulder, the rage that had been burning gave way to exhaustion, his body catching up to his over use of Foul Legacy.

You carded you hand through his rusty locks “Let's get you to bed, we can talk about this tomorrow, but right now you've reached the end of your wick”

Childe sighed and got up “Yeah… Yeah you're right. I’ll tell you everything tomorrow”

As Childe left for bed you hung around for a second longer, picking up the mask, you looked into the face of Tartaglia.

[astralnymphh]

𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 (𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬)

summary: your suspicious encounter has given ellie her five minutes and her knife—but can she truly measure insincerity? reader discretion advised: seattle!ellie x fem!reader, angst (with comedic and romantic undertones), reader is a stranger, reader has a sibling, inevitably changes the trajectory of the canon storyline, inherent tensions, interrogation tactics; knife (obviously), drawing blood, smacking, punching, collectively getting beaten to a pulp. ellie has ran into someone who matches her energy, maybe even dominates it. whew. lots to interpret. memo: this came to me in a daydream!!! yay for getting beat up!!! footnotes: word count (4.3k), masterlist, palestine masterpost, read this, proofread by the lovely @caraphernellie!

It is an aching, scathing thing: this world.

In the mornings, the most godless sounds awaken. Salvation takes pitiless dances with self-righteous societies, and the meek have inherited the earth. 

If you have a bounty—an idea of revenge—you must be fain to bleed every happy accident dry of information, and bleed yourself.

“Where's Abby?”

You are a happy accident. Urging for an alibi, your appetite stared down the barrel of several guns. The soldiers of this hospital you sought out on eroding patience were not helpful. If anything, lethal. They seemed guilty of selling out; failing to fulfill their scrap of the bargain, dodging explanations and lily-whiting themselves with some careless, out-of-the-blue, bullshit argument for why the agreement changed, why they acted against the inertia. All these sour months, yet nothing to compensate for time. Just conflict.

You were owed fifteen guns from this deal. Fifteen!

The debate fired in a deep corridor, right above the bowels of the hospital. Some bitch—Nora, you think, plated the verdict first and coldly before making off someplace else. Almost like you weren't really there. Still bleeding for clarity, you had everyone else in the hospital browbeaten, interrogating one after another, interrupting their plans to clear out the place. You used the threats in your mouth and the appetence of your revolver to show them you meant blood and business, simultaneously. Some heads went rolling.

Then, the place got infiltrated, making you an emergent exfiltrator. Like fire in a timber house of innocents, death caught quickly. Gunshots cracked at a singularity. A couple fired, then there would be a pause, muffled commotion, a horrifying scream, and a shallow rain of bullets come again.

It became instantly understood that it was a single person; a party would bring more noise. Frightened seconds became bodies on the floor in minutes, the melody of throats choking on blood padding the halls, and like time in a nutshell, one note of that melody played right outside the room you lurked in.

You recall a muttered echo: “Fucker,” which taunted the loud gurgles of blood, and rang as a sign that it was too late.

Her narrow and thorough eyes had the emptiest and deepest rooms flipped upside without warrant. Not even the silent take-outs, blind-covered windows or the secrecy of your location evaded interest. She craved some of that action.

You interrogated one room of stubborn people, only to be interrogated by a trespassing 'nother. Fucking coincidence, right?

God, and this girl is just terrible at cross-examination! Don't let her in a courthouse, of any quarantine zone. If they exist.

Ever.

It has gone on for a minute now. She continuously asks these redundant questions and tries cheap intimidation tactics her daddy probably demonstrated on several unlucky incidents like yourself—or maybe it's improv. Sure fuckin' sounds like it. And, not to mention, an extravagant amount of profanity that even the devil himself would blush at.

Fingers snap in your face. “Hey,” she barks. The table beside you is one of her foresaid tactics. It gets slammed. “Where is she?” Her wrathful gesture makes you glance only by a virtue of instinct. Clearly, this hand gets all the action.

Simmering reds from all that yelling have curled up her cheeks, painting her in a flit of desperate, pathetic rage. She is a strange clash of auburns and browns. In eerie-black rivers, bleeding up the walls, she is a darling brunette. But in the closeness of light, it washes into a gutsy auburn. Blinding and fiery. Those eyes have you engrossed too, damn: a penetrating, cat's-eye green you could fuck up in the sightline of. Her mother give her those?

Whatever. Why she needed to find this girl, you have no clue. Where this girl in question is—you still have no clue! This is useless. In fact, to her pursuit, you are useless. Files would better serve her mission, which thousands upon thousands sit in this hospital waiting to enlighten the blood-hungry half of the population with information. Surely she knows how to fucking read, right?

Yet, your sun of escape had set indefinitely, predestining you to writhe and mope in this tangle of uncomfortable ropes for however long until she was satisfied—or suffocating you. Fight, fight, and fight all you want; there is no abdication in negotiation.

“Did you ever think to ask the guards before slicing their throats?” You cock your head, sassy, contemptuously, without a care. It's an easy antidote for you to suggest given your mental innocence to the horrors outside that door. The prelude to this tangle of ropes is an interpretation of screams and guzzles—your favorite! “Too late now, though. Oops.”

Annoyance rolls from the pit of her teeth “Oh, my fucking..” She sounds irritable, eager to snap, and she turns her back to you for the sake of her sanity.

There is a faint sound of her fingers, squeezing on the mechanics of her lovely handgun. Maybe, just maybe, she'll knuckle under now; abdicate in the sweetness of another murder? Shut your trap by boring a bullet through it?

“Do you ever quit it with the snark?” She swings back around, hunching arms-crossed.

Nevermind.

You chart your own thoughts for a possible half-genuine, mostly clever answer, eyes rolling up. “Hmm..” Checking if it lives on the ceiling, like a perfect spring apple, ripe and pendant for picking. “Not recently, no.”

That strikes a nerve. “Oh, great,” she bluffs, that empty ink of doubt rich in the short, artificial reply. Certain smilings you often earn from fed-up someones. “Guess I'll have to try harder to get it outta' you, huh?” Her face fades, broadcasting something a little more serious, though those hooded eyes are the least daunting thing.

“Oh, so hard—”

Bam! Nailed right in the cheek. No sign, no second-rounds needed. The faithfulness of four knuckles pulled through your jaw, your teeth. It aches, and your sense of vantage is knocked for a moment, flopping your head back from where she clocked it.

You swish your cheek against the throbbing, staring with provocation. She stares, too. Through the old, grimy light above, you see her conscience emptying out: upper lip snared up, brows pulling to meet a center, heavy breathing. You believe judgment exits through every exhale.

“I saw you in here, rummaging through files and shit. You know something.” Her chin becks to you, foregrounding you as the first pawn of evidence. “Where'd she go?”

“Up my ass, bitch.”

Her mouth flinches at your immature fulmination. Offended, or disgusted. Rigid cords accentuate in her neck. “You smart-mouthed cunt!” she seethes, and her angrily mumbling that leads too smoothly into another blow to the maw, getting all up in your twisted face. “Where?”

You sling back. “Clearly not right in front of you, damn it!” Spitting the blood stilling in the pockets of your gums, you damn her; aim for the tip of her converse. Panting, you bring your eyes up slowly to glare. “Who shit in your rations?”

“We don’t—hmph, I don’t do rations.” 

Throwing a joke put a cork in her incursion, slipping up her words. You have to laugh. Furrows pinch between her brows, then she scans you up and down, face contorting into slow inspiration. They widen, discern; something you said alludes.

What is she thinking?

”Are you FEDRA? Undercover soldier?”

Your smile fades. “What? No.”

She motions to the bodies entrailing the floor. “Then why'd you kill them?”

“Got in my way.”

Her lips press into a line, and she huffs. Appraisal demanded conjectures, and you weren’t giving her anything. Things that may nail the target right in the eye, or miss by a small mark. You came here for one thing and one thing only, and that's none of her business—but, she wants to make it her business. Clothing you in warfare made it psychologically easier to absolve herself.

Two can play at that game. “Are you an undercover soldier?” you spin the question, blood in your mouth stirring a grudge. This situation might fall more into place if tongues point to yes. “Which zone hired you for reparation? Or would that be the Seraph—”

“Not a soldier.” Her interruption is resolute. She holds something harsh in-between the teeth, a stiff rehash, unable glarings. “I'm not FEDRA, I'm not a Scar..” The floor seems to interest her eyes. “Actually, what I am is none of your goddamn business.” She only looks up at you at the end, eyes narrowed.

“Neither am I yours.”

For smart-mouthing, you expect a third kiss of violence to erupt your gums—nostrils, perhaps—and she relents. Silence perverts the room, leaving an uncomfortableness to stretch from her stare. Gulps, blinks, and breaths that invocate. She expects you to give her a thesis, glaring like a hawk. A glare that depicts, “You are my damn business.” without ever having to gorge a throat.

You watch her right fist fumble together, blanking out on the earth-stained nooks. “Just assumed someone so blood-hungry would be an undercover soldier that has it out for rebel militia groups trying to battle authority. Maybe you wanted to snuff out the Firefly legacy? Once and for all?”

The coarse skin of her tattoo looks storied. Covered in things you lack context for.

But are you not self-same?

“Ex-Fireflies are finicky fucking people,” you begin to rasp in the vowels, clearing your throat. “Fuckin' hate them.”

Nothing is said on her end. Nothing of solace, nothing of condemnation, not even a different opinion. She traces all the lines quietly; squints at your lowered face, weighs your scars, conjecturing what your reputation must be to wear wounds like these. They must be gorgeous enough to ignore, because she prowls closer and slips into her back pocket, pulling a switchblade. Mahogany, and storied indeed. Fresh blood, old blood.

You peek up when you hear it flick. “Last chance,” the rigid-lipped girl warns. And like she has experienced an earnest, diabolic and pardoned shift in mind, her eyes look prepared to see you choke. “What's it gonna take?” She would slice you if it meant bleeding the infinite resolve out of you.

Fingertips dance on the handle of it. Pitifully, agitatedly dancing under the shadows. “Reasons, maybe?”

“Yeah? Wanna be like that?” She braces an arm on the chair, caging you, leaning in. Warm, arrowlike words hit you. They smell of breath. “Someone was hunted, tortured and killed, right in his own fucking town. Planned attack, too.” The cold, keen edge of the blade is pressed against your pulse, provoking a swallow through you. Tight in freckled hands, bloodspill is ensured. “That enough for you?”

“Oh,” you chuckle unamusedly. “Revenge doesn't solve shit.”

“Then why the fuck are you here?” The growing pressure of her hand leaves a thin, immaculate cut, no drippage. Your subtle stonewalling escalates the tension in her, and so, she slowly buckles under; teasing the knife with a little taste.

Muted pain hisses from you. “Not revenge,” you plume, showing her your eyes. “Wolves got somebody I know held hostage and is unfairly expending them for their work. They won't let 'em off as agreed.”

Eyes reveal lies.

“Bullshit.”

You disengage from the delicate stinging on your neck, confounded by her. “Okay, and what makes your excuse more plausible?” Either you wear an embittered smile, or it wears you. Her cynicism is almost predictable. “I was owed shit from these assholes.”

“Which assholes?”

Of course, every detail is of the essence. You get her, to a degree; she is enraged justice in the form of a girl, but is overwhelmingly that. Rage. She spreads her pawns inside out and envisages a judging of gospel in their exposed guts. Interpreting the files, the conditions, the realisms of things said. Was that soldier truly vulnerable? Did they die weaponless, fearful, and innocent? Is innocence even a condition, given the crimson in her eyelines?

She looks lost in all the blood.

The temporary break opens to your heavy sigh. “Think her name was Nora.” Lasting throbs from the punches minutes before worsen as you speak. You crinkle your face against them. “'Dunno, don't care. Just want my brother back.”

You cannot tell if your answer brings satisfying insight, hearing only her inhales go in, and out. Knife laying inert, you receive no pain for it, but no freedom from it, either. She opens her mouth a bit, and bloomed breaths fan over you, like a response is meant to come out. Then her bloodied, bottom lip folds in, rubbing against her top, brows set low, and you know the contents of her mind are crafting a narrative.

Measuring your high-stake sincerity.

“Is that enough for you?”

Her eyes are sharp when you ask.

The weight of inflection, the material of fluency. Both are determiners. You, for the past five minutes, have acted a soft and blunt manner in the face of one jury. Maybe facetious, too, but it changes little.

She picks herself up from her wander-faced brainwork, and concentrates outside of her mind. “'Kay,” she drones, cocking her head. “Where is Nora, then?”

You sigh. “Probably upstairs.” The fight for life continues. Behind the chair, your wrists contort quietly for a weak knot. “Or gone. Depends how long you take to untie me.” 

One corner of her lip crooks. “Huh, you really think it's that easy?” Her face compliments the eerie line perfectly. She slides the blade past your collarbone, without pressure, and pierces it into your sleeved arm. Slow torture of twisting. “Tell me where, exactly.”

Gouging torments worse than simple incisions. With cuts, you can leave ugly reminders. But with a debased conscience and an end goal, she hopes to wind the information out clean; create a perpetual torture that loosens your tongue. She does not flinch, does not glance with hesitation while the tip draws a sweet, ugly, crimson vortex above your inner-elbow. Those steady eyes bore other holes into yours. Lingering, reading your pain.

Your windpipes fill with a groan, and you clutch at the bundle of knots behind you. “Fuck!” The pain does torture you. She is exacting in the way that it does. Torturing your skin, your thoughts. It forces a puncture of annoyance in your gut for not having much else to say while she bleeds you for it. You try to fathom her situation at large.

“Fuckin' lucky I haven't slit your throat yet.”

Then, it clicks.

“Come on, where?” Her impatience hits home.

You know where the blind spots are in this situation. Context shines clearly. “It's not just some random guy you're getting revenge for, huh?” Struggling under knifepoint, your words slip out with the violence of a tear. Scratchy, compressed. 

But the gouging technique of her fingers stop, saving you a second.

“What?”

Her face and voice incarnate offense identically. There had to be some nasty reason backing your statement, another round of your clever inaction to distract a sure demise. Yet, it still chokes. She wants to finish this, but you are by far the most thought-provoking victim her switchblade has ever laid infliction to. You can make a girl hesitate pretty damn well; it frustrates her. Makes her culpable, a gilded conscience whispering in low tones to let it back in. Reverting her to one of the many things that Seattle made her find fucking sickening: empathy.

Thinking.

She slaps a band-aid on those exposed nerves, keeping her heart small, and begrudgingly narrows her eyes into confrontational lines. The knife softly listens.

You continue. “Obviously, this someone is special,” attesting brashly, not so formally as a court would mandate. Just loud enough to film over the sound of your binds loosening. “Who goes all this way for somebody they don't share blood with?”

Regardless of how bold, how unoriginal this shot in the dark is, the revenge-high girl drops her lip. She's trying to pin a conceivable falsehood to your words, but it conflicts with the perfection of them; you aren't entirely wrong.

An irritated sigh claws open the air.

Forget it—she isn't looking to be mutual. She didn't chase a rumor to carve sympathy. Histories shall keep to themselves. “So? Don't play fucking stupid with me,” she reproaches you, introducing the pressure of her knife down on your thigh. “If she's gone, you're gonna show me right where she's headed.”

You watch her empty hand reach back. “Then?”

The sounds of paper halt. She frowns at your strange cross-questioning. “Then—I'll let you go.” Her reply is reluctant, so full of an unsure breath. “But only on the condition that you aren't fucking bullshitting me.”

The hand once-empty arcs from her back pocket, unfolding an outdated map of Seattle before your eyes. Damn, does she need an exact time too?

“Where?”

Hence that, the knife eases silence with pain again. There are tense cords on the crest of her palm from pushing it in. You almost absently and sullenly admire the true beauty of the flesh wallowing in contemplation; chances are, you may know too much now, and could cause wounds in her plan if let go. Providing her the intel she thrives for won't save you—it will kill you.

So, while so much as a long wince takes up your throat, you think of something else.

“Come on,” she nags, twining the knife into your kneecap. You counter with a cry, the vulnerable, warm shine threatening to paint your undereyes. “Could be done with this already. Eyes up here.” It crept up so quick.

But before you succumb, the roughness around your wrists becomes a nothingness, and your fingers grasp for light. Reprieve, a pardon to injury; you take it into your own hands.

The scene shifts like rain. Shock jerks her eyes wide when the chair clatters, and you drive her backwards—heels scattering, hands thrashing in a flit of desperation—and her special switchblade is suddenly against her. You swipe it tracelessly, catching her off-guard and cursing. Threatened palms puncture you repeatedly in the shoulders, trying to shove you off as she is slammed into the wall, knocking out the incentive she held so dearly like a candle.

Her hand dives below where you can see, definitely headed for the leather gun holster that clasps her thigh. She struggles to unload it. Before she can even wrap a finger, your reflexes are a step ahead, ridding her of that precious, immediate solution. You bash the damn thing into her nose.

“Fucking cunt!” she shouts with her lip snared down, the raging shape of her teeth evinced. Her hips struggle against you, palms now reaching to eclipse your sockets, both in a desperate fight to recapture her authority. Careful, she might bite!

Everything transpired so quickly. You feel whiplash as you toss the gun, brace her arms and show her precisely what lies ahead—scratching the surface, knife on her pale pulse.

Struggle exists no longer; the weapon buys you surrender. She focuses her lingering energy on catching air, slack under your fingers. 

“Well, shit!” Your chest opens with a degrading laugh, one she abhors. Screw looking at you. “Guess it really was that fucking easy, huh?” You begin a soft dint in her neck with the pricked end, inciting her to swallow a lump.

It does not fall quietly. She cracks open her lips and blood from her nose weeps in. “Please, stop,” she pleads, loud and clear. Instead, she is entrusted meekness as a desperate measure. That flesh you loom could be wool, a startled wool, and she would be a lamb. An innocent condition. Either fits her, since either way, she is tense and looking at the inanimate space behind you. Guiltily, flinchingly.

Only one curiosity will complete you. “Name?”

“Ellie.” It rushes like another life is at stake. Since when is she soft with a heart that can break? Whatever it is, it got her in this pretty predicament. “Why?” she raises, tone wary.

“Harder to kill somebody with a name.” Cute name for a murderer.

Her teary eyes narrow with confliction.

Ellie all but understands you. Your enigmatic nature has brought her to enmity and pity thus far—and on the precipice of murder—but now you're offering complete mercy? That's a hard thing to want to accept. People these days almost prefer, by an all-embracing scale, the venom, the simplicity, and the diabolical origins of the ethos of this apocalypse. Sometimes, it comes easier up and down the throat. Belonging eroded, and this country is a skeletal memory of itself, nothing will endure. Ellie understands that; she was born into it, and so, it is her and that is eternal.

So why you choose to spare her, has her scrunching her nose and pinching those signature frown-brows. Though, in the lurid light of her being that somebody with a name, she appears more strangely relieved, even if death sits at her throat still. Getting her to end this was your why and wherefore. You don’t care, you don’t have the time. So, you let the sun set.

Her eyes quirk up, and meet an equilibrium between her and you. They look dimensional with intrigue, somewhat proportionate to almonds. Gentle, springtime in the middle. “You're not gonna kill me?” Eyes you won't harm.

“No,” you announce it like it is solace, hard-fought. Tucked eyes and no strings attached, you sure are serious about this. “You aren't an issue to my efforts or some soldier telling me to come back tomorrow or to fuck off, so.. yeah.” The switchblade flicks back into the shell. You hold it out to her, and that itself sells the deal. “Congratulations.” A simple resign.

She lets it slip into her palm. Hugs the weight, rolls the wood on the curls of her knuckles. “Hm,” she hums timidly. Feeling it now, eliminating you would have changed nothing. If anything, weighed on her conscience in the dells of nightfall.

But she still lacks information. She needs to get it somewhere, somehow.

Thoughts begin to trickle: if her fingers can do such fragile things as plucking a guitar, should they be considerate?

Should she start now?

After a silent break, and a wipe of her bloodied lip, she decides to try. “Is your brother with them?” Wearing some sympathetic face absent of a smile; you're too preoccupied to notice if she does. “Sounds tough what you're going through.” Yeah, she cares enough to try.

You recess from looting. “The Wolves?” Crouching low.

“Yeah.” Her voice cracks, involuntarily.

God, this girl is a paradox of hypocrisy. First, she doesn't want your sympathy, and now she is a fraying thread of it. Loosened seams all over. You grin at her, rooted tall to the floor several feet away, but you are too in favor of doubt to look grateful now. “Oh, so now it's not bullshit?”

“That was before,” she laughs tentatively, traipsing closer. You leave her fidgeting, the natural gravity of her hand not knowing what to do, where to fall to. Debris crunches under her converse as she stands stock still before you, her stillness an invitation.

Again, she says nothing. Nothing as you aimlessly stare and travel over her little chafings. Waiting on your reply, your movement, your hitches of breath. Hidden languages of the body. There, you would make this mutual, or tell her to fuck off.

Maybe she believes you can benefit her still. Benefit each other.

Yeah, right.

Nothing promising sprouts from what is uncomfortably introduced.

It makes you scoff. “If you’re proposing some sort of win-win deal, then..” You heave briefly from your chest lugging up your backpack as you stand. “I've had my fair share. No thanks.” Telling her to fuck off, cordial as possible.

“Yeah,” she rethinks. “Dumb idea.” 

Seeing her face shift is quite the telling. An easy withdraw. Whatever she wanted to do, it wouldn’t work in the long run.

The steel door is guttural when you push on it. Groaning in the hinges, it instills a tension over your shoulder; she is still back there, reloading her guns, probably watching you. It gets you thinking, your hand hesitating. You may have no clue where to go yourself, but it would snip your thorny curiosities if you knew her destination. You know a small something.

“Check the operations base.”

Her shotgun clocks open. “Operations base?”

“Near the stadium. Think Nora is heading there,” you disclose, to entice, glancing over your shoulder. She needed that. “Be careful though, you’re public enemy number one now.”

She collapses her gaze. “Yup.” Her hatred was safely disposed of, so she takes your concern gently.

After all, you remain strangers. 

“Hope you get where you’re going.” The shotgun locks back in place.

Now is when you say nothing. You leave, without a spontaneous prayer or hope for her future.

Better to forget this ever happened.

“She wasn’t in any of the polaroids.”

Day closes inside the theater. Abdication takes place in the far-back dressing room, where wounds are dressed, and afterthoughts are festering. Ellie thinks restlessly about it.

What were the chances?

Ellie takes the needle into her riven skin without a flinch. The back of her lungs fill into, with long breaths, the tender palm of Dina, who asks, “Did she have information, at least?” as the suture threads through.

“She could've killed me.” Her fingers creep up her neck, feeling at her collarbones. The thought makes her mind turn. “But..”

Dina finishes with a knot on the carnic reminder. “But you're okay,” she conveys her gratitude. To higher powers, to luck, to you—whoever. She collects the hand from her collarbone, shielding her own over and embracing it against Ellie's abdomen. “Scratched up, obviously, but here. Safe.”

The gesture is fragile. Ellie clutches softly at her own stomach, grooving trails of her fingers. She wants to say something, but her mind everlastingly obsesses over your intel. “She said Nora's stationed in their operations base.” Her arm kindly slips from Dina and ravels into her shirt, tossing it over her head. All this bloodshed has given her a one-track mind. “Somewhere west of here, near a stadium, uh—think that's site two on our map.” She stands and smooths the crinkles. “Thanks for the help, babe.”

Dina can only hope well. “Mhm.” But she loathes this metamorphosis. Day after day, it leaves her feeling secondary. “Just be careful tomorrow, okay?” She has to continue physical contact to keep herself above, rising after Ellie. “We're rootin' for you.” Pressing a smile into her warm neck.

It repurposes itself onto her lips. “Yeah, like my groupie?” Certain smiles Ellie tends to forget she can share, and kiss, even if fleetingly. Thought fades all.

Hard to forget what happened.

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[thaleleah]

𝓟𝓻𝓮𝓽𝓽𝔂 𝓛𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓵𝓮 𝓟𝓻𝓸𝓫𝓵𝓮𝓶

Pairing: Billy The Kid x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Dark-ish!Billy (just the tiniest bit tho), Virgin!Reader, Dub-Con, P in V, Hate Fucking (kinda but not really lol i tried), Fingering, Creampie, Possessive Behavior, Mentions of a gun shot graze, Talk of tying up/restraining/bondage, Slight Dirty Talk, Rough Touches (he grabs her face & throat), Use of the word “drawers” instead of panties cause I'm cringey like that lol

Word Count: 3.5K

A/N: Dedicated to my anon who sent in this ask and put the thought of hate fucking in my head. I tried, hun lol. Didn't turn out how I thought it would and it's not my best work, but it did help me get out of my writing slump a bit sooooo i hope you enjoy it.

A/N 2: Please accept this supposed to be drabble that turned into basically a fic length thing as compensation for not having Godless Part 2 out yet. Hoping to finish it up within the next couple of weeks 🤞🏻

Summary: Jesse's younger sister is a pretty problem for Billy.

He’s so pissed at you. 

Jesse’s little sister once again trying to prove herself useful, trying to prove that she’s ‘one of the boys’, but doing nothing except getting in the way and causing trouble. 

It was supposed to be a quick job. They’ve rustled cattle together enough to have their system down pat, everyone in their gang playing their part perfectly so that they can be in and out of their target’s territory in the shortest amount of time. Very rarely do they get caught in the act now - and if they do, they’re good enough to never suffer losses. 

But when there’s a sweet-voiced, overly driven Miss suddenly among their operation when there’s not supposed to be, things can go wrong. 

You must have followed them, just far enough behind that they didn’t see you during their final look around before starting their run. One minute, everything was fine. None of the ranch owner’s cowboys were in sight and the cattle were proving to be easy to corral, not a single one of them choosing to go rogue and trying to push out of the herd. 

And then the next minute, you were there. You were wearing a dress when they left, a pretty little thing that Billy thought made the color of your eyes pop. It’s not your normal outfit, but you own it now courtesy of Jesse who was tired of hearing you nag about how much you wanted to come with them, how ‘helpful’ you could be if he just gave you a chance, and told you that if you wanted to be helpful you would run down to the local liquor store and make sure he had something to drink when they got back. 

You had switched out of the dress and back into your shirt and overalls, the shoes on your feet traded for riding boots instead of those dainty lace up ones. The hat that sat on your head covered your hair and the first thing that Billy notices when you ride up next to him is how tightly your hands are gripping the reins. 

The sight of you there catches him off guard and his gallop turns into a canter as he stares at you with wide eyes.

“Hey!” Jesse shouts from a little farther out. “What the hell do you think you’re doin’ here?”

“I deserve to be here just as much as any of you,” You reply, head held high as you glare back at your brother. 

“Hell no! Get your ass ou–” 

The bullet whizzes past his head, cutting through the air with a near deadly precision. Everyone ducks, heads snapping to where the bullet came from as the sound of the gunshot rings in their ears. There’s a couple of the ranch owner’s cowboys standing at the top of the hill, firing shot after shot towards the gang and the compromised cattle. Another bullet just barely avoids digging itself into Billy’s arm, the hot lead grazing against his upper arm and tearing through his shirt. Your eyes are wide when Billy shouts in pain, your own yell echoing his as he instinctively clutches his arm. 

He can see in your face that you’re terrified. You don’t know what to do. You’re going to get hurt if he doesn’t do something. 

Without thinking, Billy jerks his horse towards yours, forcefully nudging your own horse in the direction of the nearby treeline while he pulls out his gun with his uninjured arm to help return fire. The gang scatters, most of the cattle is already out past the property line and able to be herded during the commotion. The gunshots continue but no one else gets hit, and the group hollers the entire way back to the house, adrenaline pumping from just the taste of a bit of dangerous contact. 

You stay silent the entire ride back home. So does Billy. And so does Jesse.

But the second your feet are back on the ground, you’re in trouble. 

Jesse lays into you.

“What the hell did you think you were doin’?”

“I just wanted to help!”

“Yeah? Some help you were. You distracted us! You could have gotten us all killed,”

“Them shootin’ at you had nothin’ to do with me! I deserved to be there!”

Billy sits on the top post of the paddock fence as he presses a clean cloth against the graze on his arm, watching you both as you tear at each other's throats. He’s glaring at you too, bright blue eyes piercing into the side of your face as you scream at your brother. He watches as the tears fall from your pretty eyes, twin streams cascading down your cheeks as your hands fly around you in frustration. 

A Pretty Problem. That’s what you are. 

You’re a problem when you’re shooting. Your aim is always off, missing targets by an inch and somehow never able to fix yourself enough to hit them the next time. It’s a problem how you ask him for help, your back pressing against his chest and he guides you to adjust your position. Those are the only times your bullets hit the standing cans. When he steps back and you try again, you’re back to missing, and Billy just refrains from rolling his eyes even as his body feels like it’s been touched with a live wire just from the smallest bit of contact with you.  

You’re a problem when they’re drinking, a bottle in your hand as you try your best to match their intake. The others would leave you on the floor, stepping over you when you inevitably drop from too much alcohol. It’s Billy that picks you up, wrapping his arm around your waist and carrying you to your bed. 

You’re a problem when you’re laying there, sprawled out along the sheets somewhere between sleep and forcing yourself to stay awake. The way you look up at him is a problem, eyes glassy and half-lidded as you mumble a soft ‘thanks, Billy,”. He knows he’s not a good person, no matter how hard he tries convince himself he is, but fuck - he deserves some extra points for the self restraint he has to leave you there like that. 

You’re a problem when you’re being a brat. The constant butting into conversations, volunteering for jobs and then throwing fits when you’re turned down. You’ve taken to pleading with him for support, asking him to speak on your behalf just to make your brother and the other men see sense. 

“You’re the youngest,” You say, and your eyes are wide and nearly watering as you beg. “That’s why they call you The Kid. Doesn’t that bother you? Imagine how I feel!”

And how can you even ask him to do that? You can’t even shoot right on your own. Ain’t no way he’s speaking up for you so you can go on dangerous jobs and get killed. 

No. 

You fight just as harshly as Jesse does, spewing out insults and arguing your points until you’re both blue in the face. Neither of you notice when Billy jumps off the fence and heads into the house. You make him so angry - so naive and so willing to put yourself in danger just to try to prove yourself. Jesse is right. You could have gotten them all killed today with your little stunt. If you hadn’t been there, then their attention wouldn’t have been divided. Maybe he or Jesse could have seen the cowboys up on the hill a few seconds earlier and gotten out of there without even so much as a graze. In this world, every second is important and being distracted for even a moment can cost you your life. 

He’s still stewing when you follow him into the house only a few minutes later. Your eyes are rimmed red, lips puffy from where you’ve clearly been biting them. Bad girl, he thinks as he glares at them. It’s a nervous habit you have and he’s constantly telling you to stop. The sight of your teeth biting into your bottom lip always makes him go crazy. It should be his teeth digging into it instead. 

“What?” He mumbles gruffly.

“Are you okay?”

“Got grazed by a bullet,” He says, his eyes never leaving yours even as he hooks a thumb under one of his suspenders and pulls it off his shoulder. “You think I’m okay?”

He watches you as you watch him pull the other one off too, your eyes following the fallen straps as they hang around his waist. They follow his hands back up as he undoes the buttons on his shirt, one after the other after the other until the thin material separates in the middle and he can push it off his shoulders. 

His skin feels hot under your intense gaze, and the darker more primal part of his brain wishes you would follow his lead. Undo your own suspenders, unbutton your shirt but make it slow - tease him a little bit cause that’s what you are.

A tease and a brat. And he should treat you like one. 

Instead, you’re stepping up to him and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. Your fingers trace just below the thankfully shallow wound of the graze. “You should let me wrap this for you. So it doesn’t get infected,”

“You shouldn’t have been there,” He says in return, and his anger flares as he watches you roll your eyes. 

“God, Billy. Come on. Didn’t I get enough of this from Jesse?”

“You could have- hey!” Billy’s hand snaps out to grip your jaw, stopping you in your tracks as you turn to walk away from him. He holds you still, forcing your face to stay turned towards him as he growls. “You could have been killed today with your little stunt. You had no place there,”

Your hands clamp around his wrist trying to pry his hand off of your face and your words are determined despite the small flicker of fear present in your eyes. “I deserve to be there just as much as any of you,” 

“Oh yeah? Is that why I had to save you today?”

“You nudged me in a direction I was already goin’ to pull my horse in. I wouldn’t call that savin’,”

He pushes forward, making you shuffle back even as his hand stays firm around your chin. Your back hits the opposite wall, a pretty gasp falling from your lips from the rough movement.

“Brat,” Billy hisses as he presses his body against yours, pinning you to the wall. “You’re a troublemaker. I should tie you to your bed, keep you there - bound and out of harm’s way.”

Your breathing hitches at his words and he can feel the way your fingers clamp tighter around his wrist, those big wide eyes that torment him in his dreams staring up at him. 

“Billy,” You whisper, but he just continues his thought. 

“I’ll take care of you,” He says, voice low and quiet between the two of you but it somehow sounds deafening in the silence of the house. “Keep you fed and safe. Give you a nice blanket to keep you comfortable while you wait for me to get home.”

Billy’s hand releases your chin, calloused palms sliding down your jaw and wrapping around your throat. He can feel how you swallow thickly under his hold. 

“And you can take care of me in return,” He continues, his words almost a growl in your face as his warm breath fans across your skin. “As a reward for keeping you out of trouble.”

Even with only centimeters apart, he can barely hear you as you whisper. “Reward you how?”

And fuck, if you knew all the dirty things that play in his mind at night…

“On your knees,” He says, the hand not currently wrapped around your throat reaches up to flick off the suspender strap around your shoulder. It falls around your waist much like his did just minutes before. “On your back.” The other suspender falls like its twin. 

The sound of your heavy breathing echoes in his ears. His eyes drop to your parted lips and he’s sure that his pupils are just as large as yours are. His breathing stops in anticipation despite the fact that it's him who leans in, closing the distance between the two of you as he presses his lips against yours for the first time. 

He wants to be embarrassed by the sound he makes when he tastes you, so soft and sweet and somehow so much better than he ever imagined. Your breathing shudders when his tongue brushes against your bottom lip, but it cuts off in a soft gasp when he presses in again to kiss you harder. Need curls tightly in his gut, anger burning through his veins at you for making him feel this way. 

So on edge all the time, so unhinged. So desperate. 

The hand around your throat tightens a bit and the little squeak you let out in response has him swelling in his trousers.

“Troublemakers like you need to be put in their place,” He says, voice raw and gravely with lust. “You wanna be a big girl and ride horses all day on dangerous trips?” His nose bumps against yours, lips just barely brushing against your own as he speaks. “You can ride me instead.”

His hand leaves your throat to pull at the button on your overalls, and your own hands grip onto the tight muscles of his biceps. 

“Billy, wait,” You say, hand moving down to cover his as he pops open the buttons, but he grabs your chin in his hold again. 

Wait? Wait? You want him to fucking wait? No, you’ve already made him wait long enough. 

“Shut up!” He growls. “I’ve heard enough from you.”

His other hand manages to push down your overalls and they fall to the ground, pooling around your ankles. You whimper as his hand slides across your belly, his long fingers tracing over your soft skin as they travel down and down until they slip under the thin material of your drawers. 

“Good girls do what they’re told,” He whispers, breathing hot and heavy as he presses his mouth against your cheek, and you can feel the stubble that’s started to grow back already on his jaw scratch at your face. “I’ll have to teach you better.”

You gasp when his fingers first touch you, the gentle caress of his fingertips on your clit that has you jumping against the wall but unable to go anywhere with how he has you pinned. He groans against your cheek when he feels how wet you are already, soaking into the pads of his fingers as he circles the bundle of nerves between your thighs. 

“Billy,” You moan, and he kisses you harshly, cutting off the rest of your sentence if there even was more because he can’t bear the thought of you trying to get him to stop again.

No waiting. No stopping. You’re his. 

“Just be a good girl for me, okay?”

His fingers slide through your wetness, trailing slowly over your slit as his arm pushes deeper into your drawers. The tip of his finger nudges at your entrance, rubbing and teasing against your dripping hole for a moment before pushing inside you, and fuck - you feel so tight around him already. Your pussy clenches around his finger as he moves it inside of you, sweet cries ripping from your throat when he adds another, stretching you more as he curls his fingers against your slick walls. 

He muffles your moans with his lips, and he can’t help but push his hips against you, pressing the thick bulge in his pants against your thigh for some relief. 

Damn you, he thinks. Damn you and your driven attitude, bad shooting, sweet demeanor, and pretty face. Jesse could kill him for this. Jesse would, and he would deserve it. But this is your fault. Your. Fault. You tempted him like this. Threw him off his game and destroyed his self control just by being you and he hates you for it. 

Your moans are a constant now, turning into desperate whines of “Billy, please! Oh, god, please!” as he watches you greedily hump his hand. He’s throbbing in his pants, cock pulsing with need and heavy as he presses harder against your thigh. He’s not going to last long - not with the way you look right now and the way he knows you're going to feel wrapped around his cock just from how you feel clamping around his fingers right now. 

You’re not going to last much longer either, and his fingers thrust inside you faster, thumb rolling over your clit as he pushes you closer and closer towards that edge.

Come on, pretty girl. Be good for me.

He’s never touched you this way before, but it’s like he knows your body inside and out already. The look on your face tells him you’re about to cum, and he wants to see it - wants to see it so badly to see if it matches the same look you have when he makes you cum in his dreams - but he wants to make you suffer. Just a little bit more. Like you make him suffer. 

The cry of protest you make when he pulls his hand away is beautiful, as is the way your eyes widen when he brings the soaked digits to his mouth, sucking your taste from them and fuuuuckkk you taste so good. Of course, you taste this good. 

He kisses you again, sliding his tongue inside your mouth against yours just to make you taste yourself too as he undoes the buttons on his own pants. The restricting material is gone in seconds along with both of your underwear. His hand grips your hip, squeezing the flesh between his fingers before dragging his hand along the curve of your ass and down the back of your thigh.

In one swift movement, he has your leg hooked around his hip and his cock positioned at your entrance. 

“Wait,” You whimper, looking up at him with those beautiful big eyes of yours. “I’ve never–”

“I’ll take care of you,” He says, slowly pushing himself forward. The clench of your pussy as he works his cock inside you feels like heaven, slick walls squeezing him tight as he fills you up. 

Your arms wrap tightly around his neck as he sinks in, face digging into his neck to muffle your soft cry. A pang of guilt shoots through him at your pain. He doesn’t want you hurt. You’re a brat and a troublemaker, but he’s only ever wanted to keep you safe. But the more primal part of his brain keens at the idea. 

It’s your first time. He’s your first. You’re his. Only his.

His good girl.

His pretty problem.

He wants to fuck you hard, wants his hips snapping against yours so hard they leave bruises. Wants you crying against his mouth, moans and whimpers so uncontrollable that your brother and the rest of the gang hears them from outside from how loud you’re being. He’s not going to last long, he was right about that. His hips move slowly against yours, cock dragging against your walls as he pulls out until just the tip is left buried in your cunt. 

Your small whines of pain quickly turn into pleasure as he rocks into you, your warmth hugging his cock so tightly he thinks you might be trying to keep him buried inside you forever. He fucks you faster, pressing you harder against the wall as he claims your lips again. His fingers find the sensitive nub between your legs, rough fingertips circling your clit relentlessly until your panting against his mouth. He greedily swallows your squeal when you cum around him, cunt forming a tight and unforgiving blissful prison around his cock as you drench him and his fingers. 

He moans with you, hips stuttering and inconsistent as your orgasm triggers his. He holds your face against his, his other hand clutching your hip as he holds you still, not letting you run away from him even if you try as he spills himself inside you, painting your walls white.

It’s quiet in the room as you both come down from your high, just the sounds of panting as you both try to catch your breath. He should pull out. Anyone could just walk in at any moment and catch you, but he grits his teeth at the thought of having to move away from you. He’d die happily inside you if he could. So, he takes another moment, letting himself revel in the feel of your still pulsing walls around his length as he lays his forehead against yours.

“You’re goin’ to keep being my good girl, right?” He says softly into the space between you. “Stay out of trouble?”

And despite the exhausted look on your face, when your eyes meet his, all he sees is that strong-willed defiance.

A pretty problem indeed.

[psychogirlfriendandsupervillain]

Other Man’s Widow - Chapter 1

Female!Reader x Whitey Winn

Modernish!AU (It's kinda 1950's-60's coded?), inspired by the lyrics of Carrie Underwood’s Church Bells and the beat of Hoizer’s Dinner and Diatribes. (Church Bells is the backflashes, Dinner & Diatribes is the vibe of the hot questioning room before the rain.)

Warnings: Abuse, domestic abuse, murder, religious trauma(?). Whitey is an adult and not a kid in this.

Summary: The deputy is sent to console a grieving young widow.

A/N: If I have missed a tag please tell, also this has taken me like two years to get on here.

-

The light that filters in through the halfclosed blinds is turning gray, the weather setting the stage for what would be a tragic story. The clouds had rolled in already around noon, as if it knew to be ready. Despite that the room is suffocating, as if the clouds are a big wet blanket over the town. Sweeping your eyes over the iron legs of the chairs and table you suspect they put you in one of the nicer questioning rooms, as you doubted the station had much room for anything but the absolute necessities. The plastic seat isn’t much comfort but it will have to suffice. A click of the door makes you run your hands over your hem.

“Sorry for the wait, ma’am. Can I get you anything?” The blonde boy is keeping his body in the hallway, likely expecting a positive answer. 

“A cup of tea, if it’s no trouble. Two sugars.” You fold the tiny fabric square in your hands. He gives a close lipped but reassuring smile and disappears back out. You never had much contact with the police in town. This was the first time you had stepped foot inside the police station. It was a tall grey house that had stood since 1884. The inside must have been updated since then, because the inside had much of the modern technology you had heard of on the radio. 

The door clicks open again and the youth steps back into the room. He sets a cup of smoking tea in front of you, with the air of someone trying not to scare a wounded deer, you note. 

“It sure is feeling like there’s thunder coming in.” He muses in the local drawl, looking towards the window as he pulls off a brown jacket, flashing a hint of embroidery hinting by the pocket suggesting personalization. The fabric whispers over the back of the chair before the blonde sits down opposite of you. “I am Deputy Whitey Winn. I know it is difficult right now but I need to write down what happened for the report, is that alright, ma’am?”

The woman in front of him looks frightened. She has been crying but trying to hide it, putting on a brave face. Her dress has a cheerful pattern of tulips, not at all fitting the gloom that has been thrown over this day. Despite the damp air she has kept her blue cardigan on, only the two top buttons undone. He notes the golden oval on a chain resting above the edge of your dress, likely an heirloom if he knows the townsfolk right. Her hands are still gripping the handkerchief, as if scared to let go. The gold band around her finger shines dully. Poor woman. He only hoped that McNue and the others got the place back in order before evening.

“Yes, of course, I understand.” You hide your shock at that the boy in front of you is the assigned deputy. He looks but a child, far too young to be working in such an environment. 

“Now, there’s nothing strange, Mrs Y/n Henderson. You just tell me as you know it, straight forward, alright?” Deputy Winn continues and opens a notebook in front of him.

Mrs John Hendersson. 

“John! Good man, good to see you!” The man came to meet your husband, who tossed the keys to the valet without looking. The valet stumbled but catched them before they met the asphalt. You gave him an apologetic smile. 

There was people milling about the outer deck, but the man herded your husband in to the restaurant, where tables were occupied here and there. John pointed out Daryl and Donnie Devlin, who flited between tables. The twins were those kinds of folks who fit in anywhere, if you’d let them. They were never there with a lady, never there with anyone. They arrived alone, sometimes together. They had business in everything from hardware stores to banking. You hadn’t told John but they gave you the creeps. They were turncoats and would butter up anyone if they smelled an opportunity. When your husband went to greet them you excused yourself to sit with the ladies that had taken up a table by the windows. 

One of them gave a light touch to her head as the others pointed out a couple on a walk. You realised your mistake and removed your wide brimmed hat, feeling the heat rise within you. Always these little mistakes. Not that she was being mean about it. It was just that you felt so out of place with these people who had been going for years. 

“That’s a wonderful dress, Mrs John Henderson.” Commented the owner, who had decided that the women were his jurisdiction while the men chatted. 

“Thank you.” You couldn’t help but tug at the hem, trying to remember what the length requirement was. “John bought it for our honeymoon.”

You look at Deputy Winn. He has probably never set foot in that country club. He’s leaning on his elbow as he writes, back hunched. There’s dirt under the nails of his hand which supports him against the surface of the table. For a moment you’re glad it’s that way. You who stepped into the police station, and not him being taught a new set of rules for how to dress, greet and eat.

“You married Mr Henderson two years ago, is that correct, ma'am?” Whitey had read the public invitation in the paper, a flower wreath encircling both names. But someone had to be at the station, which fell on him and Maggie. Well, Maggie had been glad not to go, said it was too much of a spectacle for her.

“Yes, June 1954.” You look down on your ring, spinning it on your finger and then clasping your hands in your lap. “I just wanted a small affair, but John said we’d better invite the whole town.” Something between a laughter and a sob escaped you. The air seemed to only get heavier. It would certainly be thunder. You just hoped you would be out of here before then.

The sun was shining that day, filtering through the colored glass, and scattering over the altar. The whole town could not fit inside the church, only family and close friends. Reverend Griffin read the Lord’s blessing over your marriage. Then your walked outside to loud cheers and rice getting all in your hair. It was sweet. You kissed for the newspaper’s camera. 

The reception was held at your parents’ barn, since John’s club didn’t allow non-members, even for a wedding, although they sent their well wishes. Tones of a waltz started up when you and John walked through the flower filled doors. He led you by the hand, brought you smoothly through the motions. You could hear the whole room sigh in awe when he spun you, flaring your skirts to shine in the muted light. The heat rose to your cheek, and you could almost have been taken for more than a little tipsy if you had been seen walking the street. This man was yours to have and to keep, and him you, for as long as you both would live. The nausea and the ache in your feet seemed to have vanished the second you had been declared husband and wife. All was now a giddy whirlwind of light and hope. 

“Congratulations” Louise came into focus beside you at the buffet table, holding a sparkling glass of bubbling gold herself, a bright smile on her lips. Her dark hair was fastened up under a crown of oxeye dasies and buttercups, curls falling out from the dancing.

You ducked your head, feeling a little embarrassed. “Thank you. You look lovely!” You exclaimed after a moment to gathered yourself and gestured towards her blue dress, its loose-fitting skirt sweeping against the white tablecloth as she leaned slightly against it.

“It is the festivities of the season.” Lousie gave you a playful conspiring look before taking a sip and turning to survey the masses. “Reverend Griffin has even let out Reverend Goode from the church for some socializing.” You turned to follow her line of sight. The young priest was holding the hand of Miss Temple with both of his, speaking enthusiastically on some topic illegible at this distance. His brown hair was mussed as usual but his cloth was exchanged for a muted suit and black shirt, white collar still attached. Reverend Griffin stood in the opposite end of the room, patting your husband on the back with a laugh. You elbowed Louise who laughed.

“Don’t say that.” You tried to hold back your own laugh at her mean comment. 

“Well, he seems as a fish in a pond.” She declared with a nod in the subject’s direction, who seemed to be asked to dance. “Evening, Officer McNue.” Her attention turned to Bill, who was reaching for a bread roll on the table on her other side. He retreated a step with his hands up like in a hold up.

“Now call me Bill, I’m off duty.” His dark moustache curled up good humouredly. His uniform browns had given way to a navy suit, dark hair water combed, and shoes shined from the dry dirt that plagued the streets during summer. “Congratulations again, ma’am.” He made a gesture to tap his hat, forgetting it wasn’t there. You curtsied and thanked him.

“Now take that roll.” You laughed, pretending to swat after his arm. “There’s enough to last a week.”

Bill raised his hands again and stepped back towards the bread backet. “Is that an order, ma’am?”

“Yes!” Both you and Louise exclaimed, making all three of you laugh.

“Alright, then I’ll take two.” Bill grinned and picked up his goods. “I heard your dad was looking to get you to join him in a tune.” He pointed one of the rolls at Louise who slipped away with a grin. “And I’m sure your husband wants to see you.” He aimed it at you next, making you laugh.

“Yessir.”

[celesterayel]

goodbyes & waiting | luke castellan

pairing : luke castellan x aphrodite!reader

request: happy holidays! could you write a luke x aphrodite reader? (maybe with angst?) <3

IN WHICH — there are the moments you shared and the sadness that came after.

"trust that you betrayed, confusing that still lingers. you took everything I loved and crushed it in between your fingers" - o.r.

w.c. 1k

warning(s) : lots and lots of angst ゜✭・.

✩ ‧₊˚ author's note this act hurt me so much in the feelings. I've never written something so angst, hope you enjoy it tho, love :)

your heart didn’t hurt, it burned.

you wished you could tear the wretched thing out and never feel anything again but it remained there, silently killing you from the inside out. in your palm lay a small pendant, not the prettiest thing by any means and resembling more like something you’d find at a second-hand store. the chain was thin and dull but at the center lay a small heart of twine and charms. your finger brushed over it, as if attempting to soothe your own heart, a manifestation of your pain literally.

god, you wanted to burn it to the ground. you wanted to scream so loudly and raw that you’d scream your vocal cords out of your throat. you wanted to scream at the gods–fuck them and fuck the fates–and most of all, at him.

had it meant nothing to him? this…whatever it was between you two? how could he have left you so brutally? without a second thought.

the pendant burned in your hand but you’d sooner kill yourself than part with it. it was the last thing you had of luke castellan. the boy who had loved you at your lowest, who once would have rather burned the world than let it hurt you. but he had hurt you and with the blow of godliness that ran in his blood.

you never did see it coming.

✩ ‧₊˚

you had first arrived at camp a year before percy jackson appeared. no sooner than you did, were you claimed by your mother, the goddess aphrodite. and unlike how the poets and half bloods describe it, children of aphrodite were not all inherently blessed with grand beauty. rather you were made to be beautiful in the way extraordinary things are: ingrained into the brain like a itch in a way so profound.

something about you entranced others, maybe the way you spoke or how you approached everyone like they were someone you had known since forever, you were just always a shining light for others to flock too. something so incredibly enchanting, gentle like the breeze of the camp waters. 

luke was the first person to approach you after being claimed, the same boyish smile you’d later fall in love with on his face. 

“the names luke castellan. yours?” he breathed out, something about the way he looked at you like you were every enchanting thing in the form of a person made your heart sing. 

you knew that your heart would belong to him every moment after. 

something in the way he looked at you like you were his forever after made you feel complete. like you weren’t so alone in this world made of monsters and man, godless beings of hunger and pain. and it seemed like he knew it too because there was a knowing in his eyes, a connection between you too that would hurt for every lifetime and the next. 

you and luke only grew closer after and where you went he followed. where he strayed, you wandered. secrets moments shared beneath candlelights with his hands on your waist and yours bunched in his hair. 

“your my forever, you know that right?” he’d whisper against your lips, trying to breathe you in like you’d disappear from his arms. 

you’d just kiss him harder like his words could burn themselves to your lips. like he could burn himself into your very being and never leave you. one day you’d tell him he’d already had.

moments by the lakes where he’d hold you against him and you’d rest on his shoulder like it was the only place you’d ever need. trinkets you’d find when you’d go exploring with the littlest campers that you gifted to him and he kept like they were the grandest of treasures. times when he’d cry into your shoulder and you’d just hold him all the more closer like you could take the pain. the pendant he had spent months and late nights learning to craft from hand to give you. you planned out your future together late, late into the night when you couldn’t sleep: maybe someday he’d whisk you away to visit paris or to see the great big apple–only later you’d go without him. 

holding you so tightly, he’d ask, “where would you want to go if we ever leave here?”

“anywhere you go.” the late nights near the lakes always made it seem like your cocoon, a safe haven from everything else. nights like these only made you fall in love with him more. 

“yes, but if you could pick anywhere, where would you want me to take you, “ he huffed out, chuckling. 

you grab his hands and press a kiss to his lips, tasting freedom and fire all in one breath. kissing luke was always electric, every want and lightning burn in one breath, one touch. 

you leaned back, before contemplatingly saying, “i’ve always wanted to go to see the city lights in the big apple.”

“i’ll take you one day.” it was a promise. a future for you both. 

“i’ll hold you to that.”

✩ ‧₊˚

but it never did happen.

✩ ‧₊˚

you remember the scream you felt bottled in your throat when you found out what had happened. the looks the others had given you when percy told you what luke had done. why he wasn't here with you guys. why he wasn’t here with you.

the betrayal hurt more than anything you had ever felt. parts of the pieces of the future you had made crumbling as quickly as you both had made it. the trinkets you had given him were gone just as he was.

as the months passed, here you stayed as the others left. hoping that by some miracle, your golden boy would return to you. that'd he'd come back ready to make good on his promise. he’d return to the lake where you had once built your future but he never did and the scream in your throat never left.

you promised me, luke.

footsteps approached you and there at the bottom of the hermes cabin stood percy jackson, “y/n, it’s time to go.” 

he looked at the pendant in your hands before giving you a sad smile. he knew your history and your pain–once upon a time, luke had been his first real friend.

you wiped the tears that had fallen down your cheeks and slipped the necklace back onto your neck. you couldn’t bear to part with it, not even after all this time, after all these moments. 

you looked behind you to the cabin one last time—breathing in the old memories and letting them go one last time—before you turned back around. 

“let’s go.” 

in the end, your golden boy had been far too much like his father and you were the one to be left waiting.