#gold x sorrow
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CrimsonOak and LostSorrow
Steven and Daisy are married
And... Gold and Sorrow Leaf goes to the Prom
#my art#digital drawing#fanart#crimsonoak#daisy oak#steven stoughton#strangled red steven#Steven#strangled red#abandon lonliness sorrow#abandon lonliness#gold#lost silver#pokepasta#hypno's lullaby#LostSorrow#daisy x steven#gold x sorrow#ships#straight ship#ship#sorrow leaf#sorrow#lost silver gold#gold lost silver#steven strangled red#leaf
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I have a request for Jacaerys Velaryon x reader. They have been married for some time, but Jace still had feelings for Baela. He has never cheated and was always respectful towards reader, though. Jacaerys and her performed their duties and eventually she got pregnant. The fact that reader is now carrying his child makes them grow closer and Jace starts to fall in love with his wife.
For this one, the legitimacy of Rhaenyra’s children was called into question and there was no betrothals between Rhaenyra’s boys and Daemon’s twins.
Warnings: pregnancy (I don't like pregnancies when I read/write, but this one was okay and mostly a small part of the story)
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
—
When King Viserys fell, a prince showed up to your home and asked your mother, Jeyne Arryn, for her support to Princess — now Queen — Rhaenyra’s claim. In her message, Rhaenyra didn’t fail to mention her mother, Aemma of House Arryn, and remind Lady Jeyne that she shared Arryn blood through her. Your mother was hesitant, knowing her support would make Daemon Targaryen king consort, but she couldn’t give her support to the Greens. So, she agreed but demanded to get something in exchange: a husband for her only daughter.
You didn’t like the idea of being sold for politics, but according to your mother it was part of being a woman.
Married life wasn’t bad like you thought. Jacaerys was a respectful and kind man, but there was one problem: he had feelings for another.
You didn’t take long to notice that his heart was elsewhere. It was written in the silence. The way he looked at Baela, the way he smiled at her — a special smile he kept just for her. He had undeniable feelings for her. You begged for attention, time, acknowledgment, but Jacaerys was never fully with you. Him and Baela spent a lot of time together riding their dragons together or practicing High Valyrian in the great hall, which left you hurt and jealous. Other than the red gem on your finger that matched the one of his cloak-pin, you had nothing in common.
Sitting in your chamber, you held a necklace of your house’s sigil. The gold was cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the warmth of the fire crackling in the hearth. You hadn't seen your mother since the beginning of the war and you missed her dearly. You exchanged messages by raven, but it wasn’t the same as seeing her in person.
A tear slipped down your cheek, wishing for this war to be over soon.
The door of your chambers creaked open, snapping you out of your sorrowful reverie. You glanced over your shoulder and saw Jacaerys in his armor after a day spent teaching the dragonseeds. It was a smart idea to get more dragons and riders on their side, but also a lot of work.
‘’What are you doing?’’ he asked, his voice a mix of concern and curiosity.
‘’Missing home, that’s all,’’ you replied, quickly wiping the tear away and forcing a smile. The weight of the necklace seemed heavier than ever as you clutched it in your hand.
Jacaerys stepped further into the room, running a hand through his tousled hair. He crossed the space between you in a few strides, his expression softening. ‘’Don’t cry. I hate it when you cry.’’ He wiped your tear and sat next to you. ‘’I’ll take you to the Vale when it’s safe,’’ Jacaerys promised, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. ‘’I would take you now if it wasn’t so dangerous to fly over Kingsroad. The Greens have taken Harrenhal and—’’
‘’Is my mother okay? You promised you would send a dragon to watch over my home.’’
He nodded. ‘’Rhaena left this morning with Joffrey and three dragon eggs. They should hatch soon and assure more protection to the Vale.’’
You let out a shaky breath, the news offering a small measure of relief.
A few moons later, you announced to Jacaerys that you were pregnant. It was a surprise as you only had the occasion to lay together two times, but it’s been two moons since you last bled and the maester confirmed your suspicions. You were with child.
The timing was not ideal, but the Queen was beyond happy for you and Jacaerys. She hosted a small feast in your honor, and made everyone keep your pregnancy a secret. Jacaerys was her heir, making your baby his heir. If the news got to their ears, she feared you would become a target for the Greens.
At the table, Baela congratulated you with a smile. You thought she would be bitter, but she was genuinely happy for you.
As the weeks went by, the walls that once stood between you began to crumble and you and Jacaerys started getting closer. He would spend more time in the evening in your chambers, talking by the hearth while eating lemon tarts. And ask how the baby was although your stomach was barely round every time he returned from teaching the dragonseeds.
You’ll never forget the look on his face when felt the baby move for the first time. The stars of complete amazement. He kissed you that night — a real kiss.
On the seventh moon, as you were getting ready for your bath, you felt blood dripping down your leg. Terrified, you asked one of the servants to fetch the maester and the Queen. She had other — more pressing — business to take care of, but you needed the reassurance of a mother by your side.
The news ran through the castle and made it way to Jacaerys, who dropped everything he was doing and ran through the corridors of Dragonstone to get to you.
His face pale with worry when he bursted in your chamber, thinking you were going to lose the baby like his mother did. An early bleeding was how it started.
‘’I’m fine, Jace. Maester Gerardys said bleeding can happen,’’ you said, taking his hand and pressing it over your belly. ‘’Our baby is fine.’’
—
House of the dragon taglist: @khaleesihavilliard @domoron @ididliquorice @lover-of-helios @lover-of-helios @shine101 @tanyaherondale@mikariell95 @serrendiipty @lantsovheiress @gilliananderfuckme @shine101 @tetgod @clayzayden@memeorydotcom @tnu-ree @futuregws @blackravena @winxschester @mysteriouslydelightfulchaos @xxlaynaxx @secretsthathauntus @pilarxxxaguayo @emmavan39 @stargaryenx @erylilly @bbblackmamba @rainedrop97 @dreamer087 @gothicgay14 @ashlatano7567 @superkittywonderland @justaproudslytherpuff @evesolstice @buckysmainhxe @padfootsvixen @scarletmeii @evesolstice @dkathl @kaywsworld @tetgod @padfootsvixen @domoron @weird-addiction @angeliod @xjennyx2 @adaydreamaway08 @mymultiveres @secretsthathauntus @puffycreamcakes @thirsty4nonlivingmen @naty-1001 @katiepie67 @moshpot24x @hc-geralt-23 @lovelynerdytraveler @saturn-sas @zgzgh @sssjuico10 @tabloidteen @timetoten @deekaag @wondxrgurl @aerangi @strmborns @astridyoo15 @daemonslittlebitch @queenbeestuffs @severewobblerlightdragon @agentstarkid @msliz @vane1999-blog @fairyfolkloresposts @todaywasafairytale07 @otomaniac @zgzgzh @thebeardedmoon @golden-library @kikyrizuki @hnslchw @camy85 @winxschester @armstrongscommentsection @withfireandbl00d @randomstory56 @JudgmentDays-Girl @darylandbethfanforever9 @darylandbethfanforever9 @aegonswife @dakotapaigelove @jays-bullshit
All and more taglist: @kenqki@hawkegfs@gillybear17@black-rose-29@fudge13@cece05@laylasbunbunny@gemofthenight@beautyb1ade@mellabella101 @vxnity713 @bisexualgirlsblog@queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis @katherinejess @rafesgirlstuff @lafleshlumpeater @iamluminosity @Anouknani-2305 @books0fever @papichulo120627 @qardasngan @ghostlyvoidydragon @M0rgans1nterlud3 @dahlia-blossom21
#house of the dragon#jacaerys velaryon x reader#jacaerys velaryon#jacaerys velaryon imagine#hotd jacaerys#prince jacaerys#hotd
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Yandere Head Canons:
Love After Death
Yandere Skeleton x Fem Reader
I’m obsessed with Kate Bush’s song ‘Army Dreamers.’ So I decided to write a story about a soldier who died during a war, but he came back to life just to fulfill his promise of coming home to his lover…
There was a Great War many years ago between monsters and humans. A war that took countless innocent lives all due to the human’s greed. A war that took the life of your lover, Zered. Your childhood sweetheart.
Zered was a young sorcerer from the magic tower. A prodigy and pioneer of magic with a heart of gold. He was the man you had planned to spend the rest of your life with. You wanted to run your fingers through those blonde curls until the two of you were balding and wrinkly. To look into those sea foam eyes until you couldn’t. To press soft kisses against his full lips until your lungs burned. You loved that man more than anything in this world… but the war took him from you.
Zered may have died a hero of the empire, but you couldn’t help the bitterness that seeped its fingers into your heart. Your beloved was no nothing more of a war story. A great sorcerer who was able to take down the dragon enemies to give time for reinforcements to arrive. A war hero. And they couldn’t even bring a single remain of him back to you…
You sighed as you sipped on some homemade ale. Your eyes glanced at the sun’s rays that danced across the hay fields in sorrow. This was the cottage the two of you were going to live in for the rest of your days. The one you’d start a family in that was now cold and empty. It didn’t matter that the sun hit it perfectly each time, Zered wasn’t here.
You rock back and forth in the rocking chair. The birds weren’t singing their melodic tunes like they normally did. Which was odd. Why weren’t the birds singing- you almost screamed when you see a dark figure slink through the meadow towards your cabin. What on earth was an undead doing here?!
You quickly sprang up from your chair and fell over since you were a bit tipsy. Crap. Crap. Crap! You needed to head inside before that creature got to you.
You let out a shrill shriek of terror when the skeleton stood in your porch. Its red eyes stared into your very soul as it tilted its head to the side. Oh god… this was it. This was the end. You were going to be ripped apart by this hideous creature-
You went still when the creature threw itself into your arms as it released weeping noises. The skeleton whined and shook as its arms wrapped around your body in a tight hug.
“H-home. I… home.” The skeleton’s voice was a spin chilling rasp. A small tuft of blonde on its head showed that it was once human.
What did it mean by being home- wait. This cousin possibly be?
“Zered?” You gasped when the skeleton pressed its teeth onto your cheek like it wanted for press a kiss against your cheeks. “Zered, what happened?”
“Home… home.” Zered was barely to rasp out legible words. The skeleton cupped your face in its palms. “Love you… I home.”
#female reader#yandere fic#yandere imagine#yandere#yandere obsession#Yandere skeleton#yandere lich#yandere x darling#yandere x you#yandere x reader#yandere x y/n#yandere oc x reader#yandere oc#yandere original character#yandere concept#yandere insert#yandere headcanons#yandere fantasy#yandere boy#yandere male#yandere male x reader#yandere soldier#fantasy#yandere short story#Yandere zombie#monster yandere#yandere monster#monster x reader#yandere drabble#light angst
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But You Belong to Me (You Belong to Me) - (Yandere Jason Todd x Reader) (Prologue Pt.1)
When (Y/n) (L/n), resident Gotham Prep scholarship student, meets the new son of Bruce Wayne, a friendship like no other is formed. However, maybe what she's feeling is more than just what friends feel for each other. It's too bad that she never gets the chance to tell him before he, Jason, her first real friend (and real love) meets his brutal demise at the hands of the Joker.
Three years later, she finds herself still acquainted with the Bat's nightlives, comfortable monitoring them from her seat in the Batcave. The scars of Jason's death still run deep, yet, just when life starts to become a little normal, a new crime lord pops up out of nowhere.
Insert The Red Hood and his duffle bag full of heads, and he's here to collect what he was promised long ago.
Heavy rain pelts down onto your frame, coveted in all black; what a bleak day it was, but you guessed the weather was befitting the occasion. There are three other people standing next to you also dressed in black. There was a hand on your shoulder (you don't know whose though, and you can't seem to care either), most likely in place to comfort you, or to try at least, but you couldn't focus on anything else but the too small coffin being lowered into the ground.
It was mahogany, a deep brown casket with gold details, something fancy. You knew if Jason were alive to see it, he'd hate it. He likes–liked red, he would have wanted a red one. But no, he was busy being lowered into the ground instead. Tears streamed down your face but you couldn't bring yourself to wipe them. What good would it do you? It was raining anyway.
The funeral comes to a close, although you're not sure when (how) time passed so quickly, leaving Jason, your best friend, the boy you loved, buried six feet under. You don't know what to do, you don't know what you can do. You just stand there, unable to move. He's dead. He’s dead. You’ll never see him again, he’s dead. You'll never sit on the couch with him arguing over his book of the week, he’s dead. You'll never get to stay up and watch the stars with him, he’s dead. You'll never get to tell him how you really feel, he's dead.
It's only when Bruce, his father, gently tries to guide you to the car you came in, you break. You lash out, twisting away from his hand as you trip over yourself trying to get to Jason’s headstone. Bruce and Dick, Jason’s older brother, exclaim in surprise and then follow after you. You collapse on your knees near the freshly lain dirt, sobbing with your full chest.
You could hear Bruce and Dick stop a couple of feet away from you, unable to comfort you in their own grief. That was fine though, you're not sure what you'd say or do if they tried to. They let you have your time with him, knowing it was just as difficult for you as it was for them, but as time ticks by another hour has passed and you’re still kneeling by his grave, no longer crying, but still unmoving.
You stared blankly at his headstone, still trying to realize that he wasn't coming back. When you feel someone grab your shoulder this time, you know it's Alfred. And you know what he's going to say to you, the words you’ve been dreading to hear.
“It’s time to go Miss (Y/n).” Alfred says gently, his own voice filled with grief at the loss of his grandson.
You don't say anything, your mouth opens, but no sound comes out. Alfred only sighs, before taking his leave. Good. Nobody was taking you away from here. A couple more minutes pass when you hear another pair of footsteps headed towards you. Bruce.
“(Y/n),” Bruce calls softly, yet voice still rough and raw from his own sorrow, “It’s–It's time to go now sweetie.”
You don't even turn around from where you were sitting. “No.” You say firmly.
Bruce and Alfred exchange a look.
“Miss (Y/n),” Alfred starts, “ you’ve been sitting out in the rain all day. Wouldn't you like a change of–”
“No!” You shout out this time. You flinch back from the sound of your own voice, and you could tell Alfred and Bruce were taken aback by your behavior as well.
With a sigh, Bruce decides that he'd come get you himself, any longer out here and you'd be sick for a week. His hands come around to grab you, to pull you up and you scream, kicking and fighting your way out of his hold.
“No! No, I wont leave him! I'm not gonna leave him! Let me go!” You cry, banging your punny fists against Bruce’s chest. He doesn't even flinch, he just holds you and lets you cry, kick, and scream.
“Please let me go! He–he doesn't like being alone, I promised him–I promised I'd never let him be alone.” You cry out again, your voice fizzling into another sob as your fussing stops. You just stand there, slumping into Bruce’s arms, sobbing once more.
He doesn't say another word, he just brushes your tears away and leads you towards the limo where Dick was already situated. Alfred sits you down into the limo, making his way to the driver's seat. Bruce slides in next, eyes aghast and tired, clearly haunted by the loss of his youngest. Dick is turned away from the rest of you in a similar state. The car starts, heading towards the manor.
It was a silent and short ride over, nobody daring or having the strength to say anything. The vehicle comes to a stop, everyone numbly piling out the door and into the Manor. Dinner would be forgotten tonight as everyone went to their own respective places to continue grieving. Bruce, to the Batcave; Alfred, to the Library; Dick, to patrolling the streets of Gotham (knowing that if he stayed in the manor, he’d end up breaking something); and you, to Jason's room.
You crumpled onto the maroon carpet, gazing around his room, hoping that you'd see him pop up and tell you it was all a joke. But he wouldn't. You saw his mangled body. You knew that he was never coming back. What's even worse, is that you could still see Jason’s unfinished math homework lying on his desk, the paper slightly crumpled from when he would undoubtedly grip and erase out of frustration. Mrs. Delaurier’s algebra II homework would forever remain unfinished.
You promptly break into tears once more.
~~~~~~
(3 years earlier)
Chilly air swept through the halls of Gotham Prep, but you, (Y/n) (L/n), hardly noticed as you rushed to your next class. As a scholarship student among Gotham's elite, you had learned to keep your head down, focus on your studies, and ignore the gossip that buzzed in every corner of the prestigious school.
“Crap, crap, crap!” You huffed under your breath, picking up speed to reach your next class.
You were late, incredibly so by at least seven minutes. Sure, it isn't that crazy of an offense if you really think about it, but at Gotham Prep? As a scholarship student, you'd be crucified. Okay, maybe you were exaggerating a bit, but still, the point was there. You’re forced to break out of your thoughts when the familiar door of Mrs. Banfield’s 7th grade English class comes into view.
Practically sliding into a halt, you nervously open the door, ready for the earful and cruel laughter you were sure to receive. You walk in, ready for the heat of Mrs. Banfield’s rage, only to find her standing at the front of the class, a boy with black hair standing right next to her. It seems you’ve actually interrupted her speaking, whoops. Everyone turns to you as you give your teacher a sheepish smile.
“Miss (L/n), so glad of you to finally join us.” She scorns, “Now please take a seat, we don't have time for dilly-dallying today.”
You just let out a meek “Yes ma’am.” and “Sorry ma’am.” as you take your seat near the windows. The desk pushed up next to you on your right remains empty, nobody in their right mind wants to sit next to the “charity case”. Well whatever, it was their loss anyway, you were awesome.
“Now, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted,” Mrs. Banfield says giving you a pointed look. You just shrink back into your seat, “We have a new student joining us today, please welcome Jason Wayne-Todd.” She continues.
The class breaks out into excited clamor as everyone says their own rendition of a “welcome”. Of course, just what you needed, another stuck-up brat to put up with, and a Wayne too at that–god knows how far there's a stick shoved up his ass.
“Hello everyone, I'm glad to join y’all this school year.” Jason says, giving a nice wave to the class.
Others smile back, however, you could see their true intentions, they were only after his money and name. Your teacher says some more thing which you drown out, only to be pulled out of your day dream when you hear a mention of your name.
“Jason, your seat will be over there by (Y/n). (Y/n) please put your hand up!” She all but yells, glaring in your direction.
You tiredly put your hand up as Jason makes his way to you. He puts his backpack on the bag hook attached to the desk before sitting right next to you. He gives you a one off glance before he pulls out his notebook and turns his attention to the front. You glare at him.
‘How rude.’ You think to yourself, before you do the same show of pulling out your supplies. He didn't even bother talking to you, let alone acknowledge you. What a jerk.
You huffed quietly under your breath and focused on the lesson, but the boy sitting next to you lingered in your thoughts. So that was Jason Wayne-Todd—the son of Bruce Wayne. Another rich kid who’d probably never give you a second thought, just like everyone else at Gotham Prep. You convinced yourself that it didn’t matter. He was just another asshole.
But then, a few days later, everything changed.
It was lunch period, and as usual, you sat alone. Not that you minded, really. It was quieter that way, less drama to deal with. You had found a nice spot beneath a tree, away from the main courtyard, where you could enjoy your food in peace.
You were halfway through a sandwich when you heard footsteps crunching on the gravel. You glanced up and there he was again, Jason Todd. He stood there for a moment, looking at you like he was sizing you up. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes, something curious.
“You always sit alone?” he asked, his voice casual but direct.
You blinked in surprise. "Uh, yeah. So?"
He shrugged and then, to your utter shock, sat down next to you without asking for permission. “Guess I’ll join you then.”
You stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out what his angle was. Jason Todd didn’t seem like the type to care about someone like you—someone who wasn’t from the same world as the rest of these privileged kids. But there he was, sitting with you like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Why?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself. “I mean, don’t you have other people to sit with?”
Jason raised an eyebrow, popping open a juice box with a smirk. “Maybe. But they’re all boring and stuck up rich kids”
You quirk an eyebrow. “Aren't you a—how'd you put it? A boring, stuck-up rich kid too?” You say, quoting him.
He just looks into you with his blue eyes(Jesus, how were they so blue?), confusion swimming on his face.
“I'm adopted?” He says, all but a question. How did you not know that? It's like the only thing the news and everyone at school are talking about.
“Oh,” You blank, “but you look just like him?”
“Yeah, I get that a lot, it's kinda scary how similar we look.” Is all he says.
“So you’re not just some rich asshole with a stick up his ass?”
He stares at you, expression neutral before he erupts into laughter.
“No, no, god no! I'm from Crime Alley!” He exclaims through laughter.
Your jaw nearly drops at his words. Crime Alley? The notorious part of Gotham, where crime and poverty thrived like the weeds in the cracks of forgotten streets? Jason Todd, the new Wayne, adopted into Gotham’s wealthiest family, was from Crime Alley?
Jason noticed your reaction and grinned, amused at the disbelief on your face. “Yeah, don’t look so shocked. Not all of us were born into the lap of luxury,” he said, leaning back against the tree, his juice box still in hand.
You blinked, trying to process the unexpected revelation. “I didn’t realize,” you said, more quietly now. “I just assumed—”
“That I was like all the other rich kids?” he finished for you, raising an eyebrow.
You nodded, feeling a bit embarrassed. “Yeah. Sorry.”
Jason chuckled and shook his head. “Don’t be. I get it. It’s Gotham Prep—it’s all about money and status. But I’m not like them. Never will be.”
You couldn’t help but feel intrigued by him now. He wasn’t what you thought—far from it. There was depth to Jason, a complexity that set him apart from the rest of the students. Maybe that’s why he chose to sit with you, the ‘charity case.’ He didn’t fit in either.
“You’re not like them,” you murmured, meeting his gaze. “Neither of us are.”
Jason’s smirk softened into something more genuine as he studied you for a moment. Then, he shrugged and took a sip of his juice. “Guess that makes us both the odd ones out.”
You shared a small smile with him, a strange warmth blooming in your chest. For the first time since you’d arrived at Gotham Prep, you didn’t feel so alone. Jason might’ve been the new kid, but somehow, sitting next to him, you felt a connection. Like he understood what it was like to be on the outside looking in.
And from that day on, Jason Todd became your closest friend. The two of you spent nearly every lunch together after that, sharing sandwiches and laughing at the ridiculousness of the rich kids around you. He introduced you to his world, the one he came from, telling you stories about life in Crime Alley that were equal parts heartbreaking and hilarious.
He told you stories about Bruce Wayne, about how nice he was and about his brother Dick Grayson, who doesn't really like him that much. You frowned at that. How could anyone not like Jason? With his pretty blue eyes and warm smile, his rambunctious laughter and humor, his kindness and—What the hell was wrong with you?
Anyways, you in turn told him about your family. How you were an only child, how you used to have a pet dog named Pudgy, how both your parents worked all day and every day, leaving you with enormous amounts of free time. They weren't neglectful, or at least they weren't on purpose, but they needed to make money. Your family wasn't living in poverty, but you would be if your parents didn't take on the crazy hours they did.
So you understood. Sure it sucked, but what could you do? Besides, it wasn't all that terrible; when your parents did have free time you’d spend the day laughing in the kitchen with your mom or fixing something in the garage with your dad. You knew they loved you, and that was all that mattered.
Over time, Jason slowly introduced the idea of you hanging out at his house. The first time he asked, you refused, saying how you didn't want to intrude or be a bother (much to Jason’s dismay and Alfred’s amusement when Jason would complain about your stubborn behavior). But of course, there were only so many times you could refuse Jason's begging and puppy-dog eyes, and before you knew it, you were being picked up by Alfred Pennyworth in an expensive limo that you didn't even know the name of.
That first ride in the limo was surreal. You had tried to focus on anything but the fact that Alfred Pennyworth was sitting just a few feet away from you, his calm, dignified presence making the luxurious car feel even more intimidating. Your heart pounded in your chest as the car wove through Gotham’s bustling streets, and you found yourself fidgeting nervously with your hands.
“Are you all right, Miss (L/n)?” Alfred asked, glancing at you in the rearview mirror.
You startled at the sound of his voice, managing a small, sheepish smile. “Y-Yeah, I’m just not used to all this. I’ve never been in a limo before.”
Alfred’s expression softened, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Well, I assure you, Master Jason and Master Bruce will be pleased to have you. No need to be nervous.”
But how could you not be nervous? You were about to step foot inside Wayne Manor. The home of Gotham’s most powerful, wealthy family.
What if you broke something?
What if Bruce didn't like you?
What if he doesn't like you so much that he tells Jason he can't be your friend anymore? Your thoughts continue to devolve into frantic “what ifs” as the drive continues.
When the car finally pulled up to the massive iron gates, your stomach twisted into knots. You stared out the window as the gates opened slowly, revealing a grand driveway that led up to the imposing structure of Wayne Manor itself. It was bigger than you’d imagined—an intimidating, sprawling mansion that looked more like a castle than a home.
You swallowed hard. Jason lived here?
Alfred parked the limo and got out to open your door. You stepped out slowly, feeling incredibly small as you gazed up at the manor. Before you could fully comprehend your surroundings, the front doors of the manor burst open, and there he was, Jason, running toward you with that infectious grin on his face.
“You finally made it!” Jason called out, his voice filled with excitement as he approached. He grabbed your hand and pulled you toward the house, practically dragging you up the steps. “Come on, I’ve got so much to show you.”
“Jason, slow down!” you laughed, feeling your nerves start to ease a little in the face of his enthusiasm. He always had a way of making you feel comfortable, even in situations as intimidating as this.
As you crossed the threshold into Wayne Manor, you were struck by just how massive it was inside. The ceilings seemed to stretch endlessly above you, the halls adorned with intricate chandeliers and elegant artwork. It was the epitome of wealth and luxury, but it didn’t feel cold or lifeless. There was warmth here, in the way the soft light filtered through the grand windows, and in the way Jason moved through the space like it was his own.
“Whoa,” you breathed out as you took it all in. “This place is huge.”
Jason laughed. “Yeah, it’s a bit much, huh? I didn’t know what to do with myself when I first got here. But you get used to it. Come on, I’ll show you my room.”
You let him lead you through the grand corridors, trying to keep your awe in check. As you passed by one of the doors, you spotted a tall, dark-haired man walking by—Bruce Wayne himself. Your eyes widened, and you froze for a moment.
Bruce glanced your way and offered a small, warm smile. “You must be (Y/n) (L/n),” He says, reaching his hand out for a handshake. You nervously reach out and shake his hand. “ Jason’s talked a lot about you.”
You blinked, stunned. “H-He has?”
Bruce nodded, his expression becoming one of amusement as Jason blubbered behind you. “Oh yes, he never really stops actually. So it’s nice to finally meet the person who–”
“Okay! That's enough dad, we’ll see you later!”
You could see a tint of red on Jason's cheeks, clearly embarrassed by his dad, as he dragged you towards his room.
Finally, you reached Jason’s room. It was more modest compared to the rest of the house, filled with a mix of personal items that spoke to his life before and after Wayne Manor. Posters of action movies and comic books adorned the walls, and his bed was piled high with mismatched pillows and blankets. It wasn’t neat, but it was cozy. It felt like him—chaotic, comfortable, and completely unpretentious.
“Welcome to my domain,” Jason announced with a grin, flopping onto his bed and patting the space beside him.
You sat down next to him, finally letting out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. The day continues like it was normal, with you and Jason playing games of hide-and-seek, tag (much to Alfred’s displeasure), and some video games in the playroom. The day comes to a close as Jason drags you down for dinner, saying how “There's no better cooking than what Alfie makes.”
You’re bound to disagree until you take your first bite of food. You turn to Jason, fork halfway in your mouth, with a look of pure bliss in your eyes. He meets your gaze with a smudge expression of “I told you so.” Bruce just watches fondly, glad that Jason is adjusting and glad that he has a friend he is comfortable with. You were a sweet girl, Bruce concurred, and with what Jason told him about your family’s situation, he was more than happy to have you around.
Soon, you were parting ways with the Waynes for the night, Jason giving you a big hug whilst Bruce relayed to you that you were welcome over any time. On the drive back to your house, Alfred tells you how thankful he was that someone “as kind” and “lovely” as you had come into Jason's life. A blush blooms on your face as you squeak out an embarrassed “No problem Mr. Pennyworth.”
The months continue on as you and Jason head into 8th grade, finally having more classes together in your schedules. The days were seemingly normal as you continued to spend time at Wayne manor, now becoming more comfortable with Bruce and Alfred; you spend time in the ginormous library as Jason helps you with your English homework and you help him with math or simply chill in Jason's room or by the pool.
Things take a weird turn one day when Jason comes to school more tired than usual. He looks like he's been run ragged, a couple of purple bruises on his arms. You worriedly fret over him as he laughs saying he just fell down the stairs. Your jaw drops as you turn on him for being so stupid.
However, the bruises never stop. But that's not the only new thing, Jason looks bigger. He's got new muscles and everything and he's also gained more inches over you. As much as his new physique makes you blush, it worries you that he continues to come to school for the next three months, tired and aching, continually avoiding all your questions and being secretive. You hate to admit that his secrecy hurts more than you wanted to realize.
In the far back of your mind, your suspicions lead to Bruce. You liked Bruce, he was fun, he was nice, and you really couldn't imagine him doing something like this to Jason. He loved Jason. So, you let the thought fade. You knew Bruce would rather kill himself than ever lay a hand on Jason. But still, something was going on. Not long after, big news spread through Gotham. Headlines like “Return of Robin!” or “Batman’s New Sidekick!” are all the rage. You never cared much for the vigilante stuff, but even you had to admit Batman was cool, but his new Robin? Well–
Jason casually brings it up on day during one of your regular dinners. You’re busy shoveling noodles into your mouth when Jason asks you something.
“So (Y/n), I never really got to ask, but who's your favorite superhero?”
Unbeknownst to you, Bruce and Alfred share a knowing look before turning their attention to you. Yes, Bruce was curious too.
You think for a minute before coming up with your answer.
“Hmmm, if i had to pick, I’d say Batman.”
Bruce grins in a silent victory whilst Jason scowls.
“What!? Why him?!” He all but yells.
“Well don't you think it's cool that he still fights even though he has no powers? Plus, he dresses up as a bat, I like bats, they’re cute.” You say.
Bruce just lets out a small, thoughtful “huh” as he continues eating.
“But seriously, Batman??” Jason questions incredulously.
“Well, if you want me to be completely honest, Batman isn't my actual favorite. My real favorite superhero, well, everyone says that he doesn't count ‘cause he's a sidekick, so.”
“Well pray tell, who is your real favorite Miss (Y/n)?” Alfred now asks as he picks up some empty dishes.
“It's Robin of course!” You say smiling. Jason proceeds to spit out his water and Bruce chuckles.
You glance worriedly at Jason.
“Are you alright Jay?”
“Y–yup! Now what was that about m–Robin?”
“Oh yeah, he's super cool bro! He fights side by side with Batman, and he took down Ivy all by himself, and he’s super cute too.” You gush, unable to help yourself.
Jason’s face bursts into red as he stammers about how he's suddenly full. Bruce continues to smile like a cat that just caught a canary.
After you head home, Bruce continues to tease Jason, resulting in a multitude of pillows being thrown at Bruce's face.
~~~~~~
You only come to discover Jason's secret about five months later, completely by accident by the way. It was a school event, a student showcase. The halls of the venue were filled with kiosks and booths where parents could see and celebrate the accomplishments of their children. Yet again, you found yourself at your section alone, standing in front of a painting you had made.
It had won second place, a blue ribbon tapped to its side and you were so proud of yourself. You knew your parents were too, they had told you themselves, but unfortunately, they wouldn't be able to make it. That's okay though, you knew they were working their tails off so that they could provide for you. A missed school showcase was the last thing they needed to worry or feel guilty about. Besides, it wasn't like you’d be completely alone, Jason, Bruce, and Alfred would be here soon.
With that, you continued thanking the random people who congratulated you on your placement, waiting for Jason and his family to show up. Of course, that's when disaster struck. An explosion goes off in the cafeteria as you get thrown back from its force. Your ears ring as you hear muffled screaming and cries, smoke making your vision blurry with tears.
You cough, trying to pick yourself off of the ground, a burning pain shooting through your leg as you do so. You sluggishly look down (god your head hurts) only to be met with blood all over your right leg. Jesus, that was a lot of blood. So much in fact, you couldn't even really make out what your injury looked like.
Tears flow down your face at the pain. God, everything hurt, but you needed to get out of here. Wait–oh no, Jason! You didn't know where he was! You pray that he was still on the way over when the explosions went off. With a sharp cry, you begin limping towards an exit, trying to stay conscious and on your feet with all the chaos going on around you. People push and shove, trying to get out but you just grit your teeth and fight to stay standing because you knew that if you went down, you weren't too sure if you'd be able to get back up.
Through the cacophony of screams and explosions, you realize that a fight is happening. You see the familiar figures of Batman and Robin battling with the ever terrifying Joker. Another explosion rocked the venue, shaking you out of your thoughts as debris fell around you. You barely managed to avoid a chunk of falling concrete, throwing yourself against the nearest wall, the pain in your leg intensifying as you cried out. You needed to get out of here.
You try to move, you really do, but you can't get your leg to work. You collapse near a wall, clutching your leg in pain trying to get the bleeding to stop. Someone help me. Someone–anyone.
You’re crying now, your sobs being buried under the chaos of the battle. You sit there for god knows how long, praying that it ends, the screaming, the explosions, the carnage. You want it all to stop. And it does. The Joker is caught and shipped off to Arkham Asylum as Batman, Robin, the police, and paramedics start sweeping through the rubble. However, right now, there's only one thing running through Robin’s mind.
He has your location pulled up, thank god he gave you that bracelet with a tracker. He knew it’d lead him to you, you always wore it. He could hear Batman telling him to slow down but he couldn't bother to listen. He has to find you.
When he does, his heart breaks. You were curled up against a crumbling wall, hands and legs covered in blood as tears marred your now grime and dust ridden face. His mind went blank, panic rising in his chest as he sprinted toward you, the world around him fading into background noise. Nothing else mattered right now—only you.
He fell to his knees beside you, his hands shaking as they hovered over your body, unsure where to touch, where to help without hurting you more. You blinked up at him, eyes unfocused and wet with tears.
“Robin…” Your voice was weak, barely above a whisper, but the relief in your tone was unmistakable. You reached out, your hand trembling as it found his.
“My friend…I have a friend, Jason–Jason Todd. Find him please–he's still out–” You’re unable to finish as you break out into a coughing fit.
Jason’s heart stopped at the sound of his own name leaving your lips. Here you were, injured and bleeding, worrying about someone else. His chest tightened as he watched you struggle, your blood-stained hand trembling in his grasp, pleading for help that he had already given. He wanted to tell you—needed to tell you—but now wasn’t the time.
“I’m here,” he said, his voice cracking despite the mask. “I’m right here.”
You blinked through the haze of pain, your brow furrowing in confusion. “No... I meant Jason, he—he’s still out there—”
Wait a minute, that voice–you knew that voice. You’ve heard it a thousand times, every day. Jason. That was Jason's voice. You don't care if you were probably concussed, you knew his voice.
“J–Jay?” You slurred out, trying to get closer to him. Robin freezes, Jason freezes. You recognized him.
[All right folks, that's it for part 1 of the prologue. I hope you guys enjoyed it, expect part 2 soon! I want to preface two things though: 1.) The reader is not adopted/going to be adopted by Bruce 2.) The 2nd part of the prologue will still be taking place as a flashback. You won't get into the actual main plot till chapter 1.]
#batfamily#yandere jason todd#jason todd x reader#jason todd x you#yandere jason todd x reader#jason todd#bruce wayne#tim drake#dick grayson#justice league#dc x reader#dcu#dc universe#yandere x reader#x reader#alfred pennyworth#young justice#batman#red hood#red hood x reader#yandere red hood#robin
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Title: A Promise to a Red Rose
Character(s): Fairy King Oberon ( Original work)
Summary: The queen had made a deal with a rose that if she were to have a son her son would become a wise ruler but if she had a daughter she would offer the girl to the Fairy King. Warnings/tags: Yandere! Fairy King x Princess! Reader, Kidnapped, manipulations, power imbalance, drugging, dumbification (reader), forced intimacy, noncon body transformation, 3.3k words (please tell me if I missed anything!)
In a kingdom, there was once a king and a queen. Both were in love, so in love with each other that the people had created a song in the kingdom that many bards and kids sang. The affection that the king had towards his queen could rival the highest mountains while the queen's affections could rival the skies. The song was something that made both the king and queen proud of what they had.
It was only a pity that none could have it all… Fame, money and love they had all of it but only one. The queen was unable to conceive a child, an heir for the future of the kingdom, a child with her beloved. While many pitied the queen, many also had to push the king to find another lover for an heir.
The king was furious at such words warning that they were currently making a grave mistake that cost them their lives, yet for the queen who had heard those words could not help but weep in tears as she knew that the king still needed an heir. Heartbroken, she prayed to the fairies day and night, the window in her room open as she looked at the moon and stars or bright skies, not eating or sleeping as she begged the fay to give her a child.
One day in the darkness of night in her lonesome room she heard voices. Small voices that sounded like the jingles of bells and childish laughter. The voices asked why she was crying.
"Oh queen, why are you here? Why have you gotten on your knees? Why are your clothes that you wore damp and wet? And why does your face show sorrow and pain?" The voices asked.
The queen opened her eyes and saw fairies fluttering around her. Small children the size of roses that grew on her windowsill. "Oh queen, why are you so sad that you cry your heart out? Do you not have everything you ever wanted?"
"I am sad because I can't have a child." The queen replied to the fairies. "The king needs an heir yet I could not bore him a son. That is why I am sad because it is the duty of the queen to give the kingdom its heir.."
The fairies listened to the queen's cries and talked among themselves right after. The fairies then flew towards the balcony and made a red rose bud bloom far more beautiful than any rose that the queen had ever seen. The rose is bright red even in the darkness of night with faint glows and shimmers.
"Why have you been crying your heart out? What had pained you that you would not eat for 3 days and 3 nights." The rose asked and the queen explained once again why she was weeping.
"I wish to bore a son for the king. For only then I will be happy once again." The queen told the rose. The rose listened to the queen's story.
"I understand." The rose said, "I will grant your wish but it comes with a cost. A price that you must give."
"What is it that you want?" The queen asked, "Is it gold that you want? Is it jewels that you are looking for? I shall give you mines that store diamonds and emeralds within them for a child of my blood."
“It is not crystals that I am looking for but a life that I want. I shall grant you a life but in return, I wish for the same.” The rose spoke, declining the jewels and money that the queen would. What it wanted was a life. The queen was puzzled by the rose words for she didn't understand what the rose wanted.
"Eat this red rose and then go back to the king. Later when you give birth to a child if it is a boy he would become a king that is loyal and wise. The people would love him and he would rule the kingdom for a long time." The rose told her but it also said, "But if you bore a girl, she would be beautiful and lovely just like the first blooming roses in spring. But when she comes of age she will be taken away by me and she will become the Fairy King's wife."
The queen took the rose and ate it and then hurried back to the king. After a year went by the queen bore twins, a son and a daughter.
While the castle cheered for the children the queen remembered the promise she had made with the rose and broke down in tears again.
She cried day and night when the fairies came back once again. "Oh queen, why are you crying?" The fairies asked.
"I am crying because I have a daughter." The queen replied, tears falling from her eyes. The fairies listened to the queen's cries and talked among themselves. The fairies flew towards the vase and bloomed a small red rose bud into a beautiful rose far more lush than the roses after a rainstorm.
"Why are you crying, oh queen? The rose asked "Do you not have everything that you ever wanted? Do you not have a son that you wished for?"
"But I also have a daughter who I love." The queen replied. The rose was angry because the queen didn't want to give her daughter to the Fairy King.
"Have I not granted your wish? For a son that will rule the kingdom for a long time?" The roses said in anger, "You promised that if you bore a daughter you will give her to the Fairy King."
But the queen could not let her daughter go because she loved her dearly. While the rose was angry because the queen didn't want to keep her promise that she had made a year ago. So the rose placed a curse telling the queen "The moment the princess pricks her finger in a needle, she will turn into a red rose and the Fairy King will whisk her away and take her to the fairy kingdom. From then on you shall never see the princess ever again."
The queen cried once again when she had heard what the rose had said but it did not take back its words, letting the rose that was so beautiful wilt and fall.
The queen had told the king and when the king heard this he made a command that every needle is to be taken away from the castle.
They took away every needle and spinning wheel in the castle and burned them outside. They didn't let the princess near anything sharp fearing that she would prick her hand and the Fairy King would take her away.
As the princess grew she had never seen a needle in her life and the king and queen had banned anything sharp to be brought to the castle for that day. The roses in the castle gardens didn't have thorns all cut by the gardeners that cared for them.
The prince grew to be smart and loyal. He cared for his people and the people loved him back. The princess grew up to be loving and kind, who cared for the people and was the treasure of the kingdom.
The prince and the princess' coming-of-age ceremony was held in the castle and the king happily invited all his people to come to the ball. The prince and princess were given many gifts and presents. Books from faraway nations, gems made into gorgeous pieces of jewelry, dresses made with the finest silks, an abundance of gold, and more.
As people danced at the ball, the last guest arrived to give his gift. It was an old man slowly walking towards them with a bouquet of roses. "I do not have much but I wish to give the prince and princes these roses." The old man said, handing the roses to the prince. "I thank you for your gift." The prince said. "Please enjoy the ball." The princess said.
The prince sniffed the roses, the fragrant smell stronger than any other rose that he smelled. The color of the roses is a deep shade of red and lush. "My sister look at these roses." The prince said, showing the princess the roses. "They are the most beautiful roses I have ever seen. More beautiful than a red ruby."
The princess looked at the roses and indeed they were just like the brother said. The princess wanted to touch the roses and reached out for a rose only to get pricked by the thorn of the rose.
The queen screamed when she saw the blood on the princess's finger and the king and prince tried to reach the princess when she was turned to roses as the old man had turned into the Fairy King and took her away to a world of fairies.--
"Fairy King! It is night time now and the queen is still with the child." The fairies chanted, calling the king to stop reading. Sharp eyes looked up from the book created by humans reading a familiar story simplified for kids' entertainment. Looking at the sky he saw the moon high up and stars shining bright. Standing up he listened to the fairies smaller than his own hand. “Where is my wife? It is getting late.” “She is with the boy, Fairy King. They are in the same place as before.” Flying out of the fairy castle into the garden where he knew you were currently and a small young human boy.
Under the moonlight, he found you sitting on a tree where he left you, and the boy continued to tell a story about his parents even when he saw the Fairy King from the corner of his eye. You would nod silently as if listening intently of what the boy had to say.
"It is night now my dear." The fairy king Oberon spoke.
Hearing his voice you slowly moved your head towards him and quietly smiled while the boy pouted as if knowing that it was his cue to leave. It was as if he had come here many times before that too. "But I wanna still play." The boy whined only to be silenced when you slowly reached for the boy's hair, patting his head. At your touch, the young boy gave up his whining quickly.
"Promise me that we can play again?" The boy asked and received a soft smile from you. Seeing that the boy sighed "Okay..."
Oberon watched as the boy waved goodbye at you leaving the fairy world guided by the fairies when he looked at you again. The Fairy King watched as the boy continued to look back at you, eyes begging to tell him to come back.
The boy and you had similar features to each other.
Taking steps towards you he reached for his wife. You looked at him surprised yet your smile only grew when you realized you were off the ground and in his arms looking around like a child feeling tall. "My wife, my queen, it is time for you to rest too. This king knows that you are tired." Oberon spoke, only to receive a pout from you. You tried to shuffle away from his hold, push yourself away to make a distance so that he would not take you back when you were having so much fun. Yet your hands did little to make a gap between you and him. You were too weak, too frail to push him away.
Your attention was quickly taken away tho, when you noticed his platinum blonde hair that was long enough to reach the floor. On his head was a crown made of golden leaves and jewels. Reaching out you touched his face clear of any imperfections.
Oberon looked at you, smiled silently as you started to rub your finger on his chin, and then started to play with his hair and long ears as if you had forgotten when you tried to struggle away from his hold. Your eyes were hazy as if you were daydreaming as if you were in a daze, those had been your eyes ever since you arrived in the fairy kingdom. In tears and anguish from being taken away from your own home and family, you tried to run away so Oberon had to make sure you stayed.
Every fruit and dessert you ate was dusted with golden dust. With the showers that you had in the lake, the fairies would make sure to drop fairy dust alongside water and then coat your skin with golden liquid. The clothes that you wore white silk decorated with beautiful flowers and jewels. From roses, lilacs, and daisies to rubies, sapphires and emeralds as you moved your clothes and your skin sparkled in gold.
His shiny treasure. Adorable and sweet in his arms. The fairies cooed at his highness and his beloved. Once upon a time, you pushed him away screaming at the top of your lungs terrified of his kind, screaming that he kidnapped you. Only to calm down with golden honey. Each day Oberon fed you such honey made out of the golden dust, it was what gave the fairies their magic, their ability to fly but also their life spans. It was a common food for them, something like how humans treat rice, bread, or potatoes.
If a human were to drink such nectar or inhale so much of the fairy dust their life spans would lengthen and they would be beautiful, the old would become young again to when they were at their peak. But it also comes with a high cost. Fairy dust wasn't meant for human consumption, it wasn't meant for humans at all. It was an addiction, the moment one takes in that dust, they would never be able to turn back to their normal life.
Humans feel ecstatic the moment they have it, a high that is so powerful that they can see nothing but happiness. They were blind to the world, while beautiful and young they had become too dumb to form sentences but even think. They go along with whatever others say and due to it, many have died as they were taken advantage of while others couldn't see the dangers right in front of them, as those who were drunk on such dust fell from high places or unknowingly consumed something they shouldn't. Yet even when the person finally goes back to normal they would start to crave it, an instant addiction that slowly turned them into monsters who could not understand what was right or wrong.
It was an immediate reaction when you finally drank the honey a faster kick compared to dust, it made the whole world dizzy as you didn't understand what was happening. But you are happy, so happy and you don't know why. Drool of honey and spit from your mouth, unable to function properly as the fairy king places you on your new throne. This shall be your home, and it has been for a long time now.
Years passed and every day they placed the honey down your lips whether you liked it or not keeping you happy and satted. Your little fusses are weak and short-lived as you look at the world around you with innocent eyes, sparkling and giggly. Hundreds of years pass by and you haven't aged at all, still so curious over something that you have seen every day almost as if you forgot every single time.
While you should have died, becoming nothing but brainless when the dust could physically melt the brain. It was by the fairy king that you were still alive with his power; he would keep you whole right beside him.
Gone was your ability to walk something that he took long ago. Had he placed you down on your legs you would only collapse like a puppet with no strings unable to raise your body anymore. Your legs were useless now. Not that he minded it at all, to have you wrapped around his arms, nothing could ever compare to such thing.
You were affectionate like this, so happy. Unable to form proper words, unable to remember your own name unless he spoke it. Moments after he did you looked like a puppy wagging its tail with wide eyes as if you had found a present… that was already yours.
Taking you deeper into the forest you placed your hands on the fairy king's cheeks a soft smile on your lips. Teasing he thought to himself as he looked at you, he kissed the crown of your head receiving a melodic laugh from you as you kissed his chin three times.
Oberon had grown affection for you, his lovely queen and while many tried to take you back long ago he didn't let them. The way to the fairy world and human world gate closed, covering the entrance with thick vines of thorns, that would not be cut even with a sword but only a small opening enough for a small kid to pass through if they so found the path.
The queen and king both had died in heartbreak over the loss of their precious daughter while your brother both smart and wise led the kingdom with care but had also become crazy over the loss of his sister behind the curtains dying with only regret. Many thought it was magic that killed the royal family but no one had the answers. The story went down and turned into a storybook for kids, which taught them to never make a promise they could not keep. When Oberon looked at the ending for the first time, he could not help but frown at its "happy" ending.
But it matters not he thought to himself as he placed you down on a bed made of soft materials and on the edge sleeping flowers and gold carvings. He flew around you and took his side of the bed watching your breath as your body slowly inhaled and exhaled sleep had quickly taken you to your dreams. It seemed that you were tired from playing with your great grand-niece as you had quickly fallen asleep from exhaustion even after 2 naps in the daylight. Moving you closer he moved your body to make you face the pillow just a little as he touched your bare back where your clothes didn't cover that area.
You moaned uncomfortable by the cold hand touching your back but Oberon didn't seem to care as he looked for bumps in your naked back when he found a few. They were bumps that didn't quite belong to humans rather they belonged to fairies. Specifically, humans that were turning into fairies.
It will take a long time to change you from a human to a fairy queen, it would take more than a hundred years to grow wings, after all, they need to change the body to make room for a container to absorb magic. A human would not only need the fairy dust they would need the fairy king's permission that the fairy dust shall not kill the being consuming it… but also time. Time that most humans didn't have, but you have been given a gift ever since you were born you never knew it but you were already so different from humans ever since that deal that your foolish mother made.
He would make sure your wings would be as beautiful as the sunset, far more beautiful than lush roses, more that it would dull the color of rubies. And you will open your wings and flap them but this time you would fly towards him and into his arms. You will love him just as much as he loves you and you shall accept your place in his side as the queen of the fairies.
He would make sure that you would be beautiful and forever young. He kept you for over a hundred years now and he intends to keep you by his side for thousands.
#yandere x reader#yandere imagines#yandere x you#yanderecore#yandere scenarios#yandere original character#yandere oc#yandere oc x you#yandere#yandere x darling#yandere fairy#yandere blog#yandere oneshot#yandere concept#yandere oc x reader#yandere writing#male yandere#tw yandere#fem reader#possesive love#obsessive love
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✨His Forbidden Fruit✨
Angel!Lucifer x f!human reader
Summary: You are the first woman, Eden is your paradise. Or at least it’s supposed to be. Adam has been making life in the garden difficult. That is, until a certain angel comes along…
Warnings: smut, 18+, fingering, oral (m & f receiving), p in v, first time
"Fine! Go ahead and run! See how far that fucking gets you!" you heard Adam shout after you as you took off into the dense forest.
You couldn’t stand to be around him anymore. The person who you were made for, the one who you were supposed to be equal with, was a vile and despicable human. Always trying to tell you what to do, how to act, what to say, it was too much to handle anymore. You pushed through the thick foliage of the garden, unaware of how long you’ve been running. After some time, you came to an opening. A beautiful crystal lake stretched across the land surrounded by large trees filled with all different sorts of fruits. It looked like a paradise, but in your sorrow you couldn’t find the beauty in any of it. You collapsed, sitting on top of a nearby rock, and you sobbed. You buried your face in your hands and brought your legs to your chest. You were alone and you felt like there was no escaping the life given to you.
But you weren’t alone for long.
“Beautiful creature, why do you cry?” a soothing voice said.
Your breath caught in your thought at the sound of this voice. It wasn’t Adam’s. You lifted your head but saw no one around you. Until you noticed you had somehow been enveloped in shadow. You raised your head further and some something, or rather someone, floating just above you, their enormous wings stretched out, shading you from the bright sun. You gasped; your body screamed at you to run but your mind refused to move a muscle.
“Do not be afraid,” the being spoke softly, “I mean you no harm.”
You gulped, clutching your legs to your chest, trying to make yourself as small as possible. “Who…who are you?”
The spirit landed on the grass below and smiled brightly. “I am the light bringer, the morning star for the heavens above,” he answered, outstretching his hand. “But you can call me Lucifer.”
An angel, you thought to yourself. You gazed at his hand hesitantly and wiped the remaining tears from your face in an attempt to gain composer. “Did Heaven send you here, Lucifer?”
“Well, not exactly,” he admitted, pulling his hand away and rubbing the back of his neck. “In all honesty, I shouldn’t even be here.”
You tilted your head in confusion. “Then why are you?”
Lucifer sighed and looked away from you. “I…I’m not sure. This place, this garden, it’s enchanting! But I was denied any say in how it should be…” You saw how resigned the angel was as he spoke to you. A pang of sadness stung your chest. “Heaven was not happy with any of the ideas I provided them. They never are. I just…wanted to see it for myself. But then, I saw you running, and I saw you crying. I couldn’t stand to see you filled with such pain.” He held out his hand once more. “Please, tell me what troubles you. Perhaps I could help.”
You took a closer look at the angel. His sapphire eyes were enchanting, it seemed almost impossible to look away. And his pale complexion very much stood out in the garden overrun with an abundance of different colors. You glanced at his enormous wings, white and gold in color, and how they perfectly complimented the rays of the sun that shows through the tree branches.
He was the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.
Tentatively, you took a hold of his hand as he helped you up from the rock you were perched on. You were about to speak, but then Lucifer let go of your hand in an instant.
"A-AH!" the angel squeaked as he stumbled backwards, tripping in the process and landing on the soft grass below. He shieled his eyes and shifted his body so he was no longer facing you.
"Lucifer, what's the matter?" you asked as you stood there puzzled.
"Oh! Umm...nothing! Nothing's wrong!" he answered quickly. "I...I forgot that when heaven created you, they left you...bare."
You tilted your head in confusion. "Bare? I don't understand." Without answering, you watched as Lucifer flicked his wrist, his eyes still avoiding yours. All of a sudden, you felt your body becoming wrapped in whatever Lucifer had just summoned for you. You looked down and realized that most of your skin had been covered in a foreign material that you have not encountered before. A part of it hung over your shoulder while the other was left untouched. It was draped down just past your knees. "What is this?" you questioned as you reached down to feel the white cloth. It was unbelievably soft and light, almost as if you didn't have anything on your body at all.
Lucifer peaked through his hands; you heard him sign in relief. He stood up and brushed the dirt of his robe before returning to your side. "Forgive me," he started, "that was a bit of an...overreaction. I'm sorry if I startled you!"
"It's alright, Lucifer," you smiled at him. "I'm still a bit confused though, what is this for? Was there something wrong with my appearance?"
Lucifer's eyes widened. "Oh gosh, no no no! Of course not! You're perfect! WAIT! I mean you look perfect! GAH NO! I uhh...it's...it's a gift! Yeah, that's it! It's a gift for you!"
"A gift?" You couldn't help but smile. "Adam has never given me a gift..."
You saw Lucifer frown as he took ahold of your hand once more. "I'm sorry to hear that, my flower. Here, follow me." Lucifer guided you to the lake's edge and knelt down, signaling you to join him. You did as he asked and fell to your knees in front of him. "Now tell me, why had you run away?"
You looked down and began to fiddle with your hands, unsure if your reason would upset the angel. "It's Adam..." you began, "He's...so needlessly demanding and harsh. He doesn't see us as equals, he believes himself to be superior to me. I've tried explaining to him that he shouldn't be acting this way, but he refuses to listen! Finally, I had enough of him...so I ran..." You felt the tears well up in your eyes once more, small whimpers escaping your throat as you tried to hold yourself together. "I know we're meant to be partners and I've sure heaven will not be happy b-but..."
"Shh, it's alright." Lucifer cooed as he wiped away the tears the fell down your cheek. "Please, no more tears. You were right to stand up to him. Adam should know better." You sighed and let your head rest in Lucifer's small yet tender hand. You glanced over at the pound when you heard an unfamiliar noise emanating from the center. You noticed some feathered creatures you didn't recognize swimming on the lakes surface. There seemed to be one that was much larger than all the others. You looked back at Lucifer and saw his face light up with delight. "Do you see those little ones over there?" You nodded. "Heaven may not have wanted my input on creation, but that doesn't mean I didn't have any."
"Are those your creations?" you asked.
Lucifer smiled and then sighed. "One of very few. Do you want to get a closer look?"
You looked back out to the water and saw the group of animals flap their wings, splashing the water in every direction. They seemed so full of life and energy, watching them play filled your heart with warmth. You nodded, albeit a bit nervously. Lucifer let out a melodic whistle; you watched as the little creatures made their way towards the lake bank. You saw them use their small wings to help them onto land and waddle towards the two of you. Initially, you stretched out your hand to touch one of the smaller ones but pulled back in hesitation.
"Don't worry," Lucifer reassured, "they are harmless, I promise! Watch!" Lucifer cupped his hands together and laid them down in the soft grass. A few of the small ones happily chippered and hopped into his palms. "Want to give it a try?"
You copied Lucifer's motions exactly and watched as the same thing happened with the remaining babies. Their feathers were bright yellow and soft to the touch. You were in awe of the little lives you held in your hands. "They're so small," you said aloud to no one in particular. "What are they, Lucifer?"
The angel lowered his hands and let the little ones go back to what you now assumed was their guardian. "I named them ducks," Lucifer answered. "The little ones are ducklings; not fully formed yet but they will grow!"
You nuzzled your cheek to the handful of ducklings; their little peeps made you chuckle. "They're beautiful!" you exclaimed, letting them down so they could join their family once more.
"Yeah, beautiful..." you heard Lucifer murmur. You looked over to see his lovely blue eyes staring straight back at you, a tint of yellow now colored his cheeks. "Uhh, I mean, umm...here! Watch this!"
A sudden flash of sparkles left you dazed, but only for a second. Lucifer had disappeared in front of your eyes.
"Lucifer?" you called out, looking to either side of you but seeing no one.
"Down here!" you heard his voice respond. You looked down and saw a small little white duck in Lucifer's top hat. He smiled at you and wagged his feathered tail. You couldn't help but laugh.
"Oh, what an adorable little creature," you fawned playfully, cupping your hands once again and allowing him to hop in them. You brought him to your cheek and nuzzled him as you did with the others. Lucifer quacked in excitement. "I didn't know you could change forms!"
"It's not something I do often," he admitted. By the tone of his voice, it almost seemed like it was something that had been discouraged. "But I don't mind making a special exception for you!" You noticed the sun began to dip over the horizon, the fleeting sunlight shimmering off Lucifer's pristine white feathers. It would be night soon, and in that moment you realized you didn't have anywhere else to go. Lucifer noticed the change in your demeanor, tilting his head. "Is something the matter?" Before you could open your mouth to speak, a bellowing call could be heard from the tree line.
"Where the fuck could she be?!" you heard the voice ask, filled with annoyance. Adam. You saw the man push past the foliage and make it to the clearing. His eyes immediately found yours, and you felt as though your heart had nearly stopped. You let Lucifer down gently before standing up.
"Stay here," you whispered to him. "I'll talk with him."
"But-" Lucifer tried to refute, but you shook your head intensely.
"I don't want to risk angering heaven," you responded. "The last thing I want is for you to be punished for my choice. Please?"
Hesitantly, Lucifer nodded in agreement, making his way to the water to join the other ducks in an attempt to blend in. His little hat vanished as he started swimming. You sighed and turned to meet with the brute of a man who was already towering over you. His chest heaved; his breath was short. You could already tell this may not end well.
"Where the FUCK have you been?!" he began to shout, raising his hands in the air out of frustration. "I've been looking for you for way too long, you know that? Making me walk everywhere to find you? Fucking ridiculous!"
You took a deep inhale and let it out slowly before responding. "I'm sorry, Adam," you feigned an apology.
"Whatever," the man spat back. "You've had your temper tantrum, now let's g-" Adam paused, his eyes staring at the length of your body. "The fuck is this?" he asked grabbing the sleeve of the cloth that hung off your body. In your worry for Lucifer, you'd forgotten about the gift he had given you. You smacked Adam's hand away and wrapped your arms around yourself.
"It doesn't matter," you answered curtly.
You watched as the man's eyebrows furrowed at your non-compliance. "I don't have time for this," he reached out once more and took a firm hold of your wrist. "We're going back. Now!"
You slipped your wrist out of Adam's grasp and took a few steps back, your feet at the end of the lake. "I..." you started, your voice threatening to crack. "I'm not going back with you! I'm tired of your behavior and your disrespect. I'm not your servant, Adam, and I refuse to live the life I was given as your slave."
Adam snarled at you, stomping closer and closer to you, forcing you back into the water as you tried to avoid him. But it was to no avail. He was quick to grab your arm and yank you from the lake pulling flush against his bare chest. "That wasn't a suggestion," he spoke through gritted teeth. You tried to pull away but his grip on your arm was far too strong. "Like it or not toots, we're the only ones in this place. You have nowhere else to go and you know it! And frankly, I'm tired of these stupid games! Now, quit acting like a bitch and move your-"
"THAT'S ENOUGH!" a booming voiced roared. You felt a hand take a firm hold of the one that was trapped by Adam and watched as another tore Adam's own hand away from you. Lucifer appeared in front of you after separating you from the man. The angle floated off the ground, his wings spread out wide as he moved swiftly towards the startled man. "How dare you!" Lucifer growled. "How dare you put your hands on her like that! How dare you speak to her like that! You have no right!"
Adam held his hand in pain, shooting daggers in Lucifer's direction. "Who the fuck are you?!" He took a step closer, not waiting for an answer. Even as Lucifer hovered over the ground, Adam still towered over him easily. "You know what, I don't care! Listen, short stack, I don't know who you are or why you're here, but you need to get the fuck out of my way. She's my wife and I can do whatever I want to her. She's mine, got it?"
Adam curled his uninjured hand into a fist and took a swing at Lucifer, only for him to fall flat on his face as Lucifer easily dodged his attack. "Nice try," the angel taunted, "and by the way, the name's Lucifer." You let out a small laugh. Fire burned in Adam's eyes as he lifted his head.
"Shut the fuck up!" he yelled at you. But Lucifer would not accept this response. He latched onto Adam's arm and lifted him of the ground like he weighed nothing.
"What did I tell you about speaking to her like that?" Lucifer threatened. He tossed Adam against one of the trees that stood at the edge of the clearing. The man groaned in pain, attempting to pull himself up and lean his aching body against the tree. Lucifer quickly swooped down, acting as a barrier between the two of you. "You've shown me who you are, Adam. You are a monster, a disgrace. You treat this woman like the dirt you walk on and you expect her to stay with you? To love you?" Lucifer hoisted Adam up, pinning him against the truck. "You will never see her again; do you understand me? You're going to leave this place and never come back. She is under my protection now. And if you ever so much as come within a mile of her, I will not hesitate to turn you back into the dust you were formed from." Lucifer released his grip on Adam and watched as he took a few steps back into the forest. "Leave. Now!"
Adam wiped the small amount of blood that dripped from his lip and laughed darkly. "Fine, keep her!" he yelled. "She doesn't mean anything to me! Who would want a slut like her anyway!"
"GO!" Lucifer bellowed.
Without another word, Adam took off into the trees. Lucifer flew high up in the sky within seconds, his arms stretched out on either side. The ground beneath you began to shake violently and you wanted to call out for Lucifer before you realized that he was the cause. Seemingly out of nowhere, large rock formations began rising from the earth, rock tumbling down as the mountains grew. As soon as they reached Lucifer's height, they stopped.
And then there was silence.
Your heartbeat pounded in your ears as you tried to stop yourself from shaking. Overwhelmed by the situation that had just unfolded, you fell to the ground and began to cry softly. But it wasn't as quiet as you thought. In a flash, Lucifer had flown to your side, holding you in a tender embrace.
"I'm sorry," he whispered to you. "None of this was your fault. You're safe now." You clung to the angel desperately, not holding back any of your tears. He pulled you closer, letting his wings wrap around you, completely covering your trembling body. Your breathing steadied the longer you held onto him; this was the first time you had ever felt safe. He pulled away from you slowly, wiping away the last of your tears. "I have to go," Lucifer continued, "but just for a little while. I need to tell the others what happened." He looked behind him and sighed. "They're not going to appreciate my new renovation to the garden," he turned back to you and smiled, "but they can stay upset for as long as they want. Those mountains are permanent; this is your haven now."
You sniffled and took ahold of his hands. "Thank you, Lucifer," you managed to utter.
Just then, a glowing portal formed behind Lucifer. He stood up slowly, but not before plucking a feather from his wings. "Here," he spoke softly, handing it over to you. "This is my promise to you; I will be back for it. Can you keep it safe for me?" You nodded. With one last grin, he turned and made his way through the portal that closed behind him. The quite had once again returned.
And for the first time in your life, you were left alone.
****
The sun had set a while ago. You knew you should probably sleep, but your head was filled with too many thoughts for you to even consider it. You sat against the tree by the lake, waiting patiently for your rescuer to return. You stared at the feather for what seemed like an eternity; it emanated a subtle glow of light, a brilliant golden color that rivaled the setting sun. You continued to turn over today's events in your mind. How did this happen? Did I ruin heaven's plan? If Lucifer is punished for what I've done I will never forgive myself...
"Lucifer..." you mumbled to yourself. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't get him out of your mind. Why were you forced to live with a man like Adam when someone like Lucifer existed? How could the creation of the first man have gone so wrong? You didn't understand. But your jumbled up thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice.
"Yes, little dove?" Lucifer answered sweetly. Your heart skipped a beat, not expecting him to show up so soon. Nevertheless, you smiled as he sat down next to you. "I heard you say my name. Did you miss me already?"
Your cheeks felt increasingly warm all of a sudden at his question. "O-Oh, no...I mean, yes! I did. I was just thinking out loud, I suppose." You looked down at the glowing feather in your hand. "Here, you can have your feather back."
He took it from your hand and gently placed it behind your ear. "It's yours," Lucifer responded with a soft smile. "I know you'll keep it safe for me. And don't worry about losing it; I made sure it'll always find its way back to you."
You crawled over to the lake and stared at your reflection, admiring the new accessory. It suited you. You sat back down next to Lucifer, shifting so you were almost at his hip. "What did the angels say?" you asked hesitantly. "Were they angry?"
Lucifer rubbed the back of his neck, gazing down at the ground. “Well…they weren’t happy.” Your face fell at his words. He glanced at you and took ahold of your hand. “Don’t worry, they won’t force you to be with Adam. They’ve come up with a different solution…”
Your head fell to the side, curious. “You don’t sound happy about it.”
Lucifer shook his head. “They’re going to give him another wife. I advised against it, but after the stunt I pulled today, they weren’t very keen on listening to me. Not that they ever do.”
Your eyes drifted down to the ground, the guilt bubbling up in your chest. “I’m sorry,” you breathed, “I caused this. I shouldn’t have run away, I-”
“No!” Lucifer cut you off, “No, this is not your fault, you did nothing wrong. What Adam did to you was cruel. I won’t let you blame yourself for his actions!” He gripped your hands tighter as he spoke. You nodded wordlessly, almost too stunned to speak.
But as you found your voice, something else had caught your eye. Tiny little creatures all around you, lighting up the night sky. They were hard to spot until a little yellow light flickered intermittently to indicate where they were. Lucifer noticed your distracted stare and turned to see what had caught your attention. You didn’t notice at first, but the little creatures started to float closer and closer to Lucifer, as if they were drawn to him by some unseen force. Or…maybe you could see what exactly had caused them to swarm.
“They glow like you do,” you commented, watching them land on Lucifer’s robe, clawing up his sleeves slowly.
Lucifer chuckled and scooped up one from his arm and held it in his hands. “They’re fireflies,” he closed his hands around the one he caught, only leaving a tiny little gap. “Here, take a look.”
You leaned down to peer into his hands and watched as the little bug lit up its dark surroundings. You smiled and Lucifer opened his hands to let the little one fly away. “Why do they glow?” you asked curiously.
“That’s how they communicate!” he explained! “The creatures of this place can’t speak, so they have their own way of talking to one another.”
You let out a soft hum. “Well, I’m a little envious of them. And you.” Lucifer raised an eyebrow at your peculiar statement. “What I mean is, they can fly. Fly away to wherever they please. They seem to have more freedom than I do…”
Lucifer frowned but smiled after only a moment. He stood up straight and extended a hand down to you. “Perhaps I can give you that freedom, if only for a moment.” You took his outstretched hand and pulled yourself up. Without warning, Lucifer scooped you up in his arms, eliciting a small yelp from you. For his small stature, he was incredibly strong. You should have realized after you saw the way he handled Adam. You wrapped your arms around his neck in anticipation. “Hang on tight!”
With one powerful thrust of his wings, you two were airborne. A small scream escaped your throat as you hovered in the air high above the ground. You buried your face in the crook of his neck reactively. However, this caused Lucifer’s breath to hitch, which did not go unnoticed by you. You peered up at him curiously and noticed the familiar dash of yellow that covered his cheeks. He let out a deep breath and glanced back at you sheepishly. “I-It’s alright! I’ve got you.” You lifted your head more, looking out towards the seemingly endless sky. The moon above provided some light that shown on the earth far below, and from here you felt as though you could see everything. The once tall trees seemed like insignificant plants now, the newly formed mountains felt like little stones you could easily pick up and toss in any direction. If this is what the angels could see all the time, it’s no wonder they never left the sky.
Well, except for one.
“It’s amazing, Lucifer!” you exclaimed. “I never could have dreamed the world could look so lovely.”
“It pales in comparison to...” he started to say but stopped when you looked back to gaze into his eyes. “I mean…n-never mind that! I want to show you something else! Ready?” You smiled and nodded. Suddenly, Lucifer dive down at an incredible speed and stopped just before you hit the sparkling lake. He readjusted the way he held you and gripped your waist firmly. He held you like you weighed absolutely nothing. You locked your arms around him once more to secure yourself, but Lucifer shook his head. “I’m going to lower you down now, is that alright?” he asked sweetly. You were hesitant, afraid of being dropped. But you took a few deep breaths before nodding. “Do you trust me?”
“Of course I do!” you answered vehemently.
Your body dropped towards the water. You closed your eyes, expecting to be enveloped by the water. But you remained perfectly dry, except for the bottom of your feet. Lucifer held your palms as he floated above you, his smile brightening the night. You gripped his hands with all of your might. “Are you okay?”
“Y-Yes I’m alright,” you stuttered. “Just a little startled.”
“I’m sorry,” he apologized, “I should have given you a better warning. But here…” his calming voices soothed your anxiety almost immediately. “Can you try taking a step forward?” You looked down at your bare feet at the grazed the water below you. You placed one foot in front of the other, creating a small ripple of waves. You took another step. And another. And another. Before you knew it, you were walking on water with Lucifer guiding you every step of the way. His wings flapped along silently as you two made your way to the edge of the lake, towards solid ground. But the cool water below you felt almost as solid as the grass you were used to when Lucifer was by your side.
Before you knew it, Lucifer swung down in front of you, still lifting you effortlessly. He took your one free hand and placed it on his shoulder, letting his own find the small of your back. Your other hand became intertwined with his.
“Lucifer? What-” you tried to ask, but the man began to twirl you in a circle before you could finish.
“May I have this dance?” his sapphire eyes shone brightly as he held you, still leaving the slightest bit of space between the two of you.
“Oh…” you mumbled. “B-But I’ve never…”
“It’s alright, flower,” he smiled, “just follow me.”
With that, you felt yourself began to spin over the crystal lake below. You and the angel stayed suspended there for a minute or two, dancing under the pale moonlight. In a hushed tone, you could hear Lucifer hum a melodic tune as he clung to you, his wings fluttering with every motion. You couldn’t take your eyes off the angelic being in front of you. Your heart threatened to beat out of your chest, the pounded invading all of your other senses. You don’t know what came over you when you began to lean closer and closer to his angel’s face. But all of a sudden, you stopped spinning. Lucifer had frozen, his song halted, with both his mouth and eyes squeezing shut. You pulled away only slightly, before leaning back in and planting a small kiss on his cheek.
“Thank you, Lucifer,” you breathed.
Lucifer exhaled harshly as if he had been holding his breath, staring back at you in utter disbelief. He swallowed hard before speaking again.
“I-I, uhh, I…” he tried to utter. “You’re welcome. We…we should go back now.”
The two of you at last flew back to the bank of the lake, leaning against the large tree once again. A small shiver ran down your spine. You were so distracted by the wonders Lucifer had shone you that you didn’t realize how cold the night had become. Lucifer noticed your trembling and wrapped his large wings around you, shielding you from the wind. In an instant, you felt warmer. And protected. And safe. And loved. You smiled up at him, snuggling against his velvet- like feathers. He did his best to reciprocate, but you watched as his face fell.
"I can't stay," Lucifer lamented.
You sighed knowing in the back of your mind that this would be the case. Although you had really hoped deep down that he could. "I understand."
"I want to, though," he added. "I'd spend every moment I had with you down here if I could. But they..." he paused, shaking his head, "they weren't happy that I was down here to begin with. But they're not going to keep me away. I refuse."
"Lucifer?" you chimed in. "You said that the angels would be giving Adam a new bride." Lucifer nodded. "Then...will I get a new husband?" You were afraid of the answer. If Adam was the best heaven could come up with, how much worse would another one be?
"They wanted to," he began, "but I somehow managed to get them to reconsider, at least for the time being. I convinced them to watch how Adam behaved with the new woman before they gave you another man..." Lucifer seemed to trail off, unable to look you in the eyes anymore.
"Do I have a choice?" Lucifer didn't respond to you; he didn't even seem to register your words at all. His silence was answer enough.
A wave of drowsiness hit you suddenly; it was a long day and your body finally decided it needed some rest. "Well..." you yawned, scooting a little closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder without thinking, "...I know who'd I choose if I did." Lucifer froze once more as he felt your body go limp as you leaned against him.
"W-Who'd you choose?" he repeated back to you, attempting to get a response. But you didn't answer; you laid peacefully against your rescuer without a care in the world, your even breathing soft and peaceful. You only heard one final message before you drifted into unconsciousness...
"Sweet dreams, my starlight, I'll see you when you wake."
****
You woke up the next morning with a start. Memories of the previous day washing over you. It hadn’t been a dream…it was real. You were no longer under Adam’s control, you were free. And you owed everything to…
“Lucifer?” you called out to him, lifting your head from the grass. but there was no response. He told you last night that he couldn’t stay, but deep down you hoped that he would have.
Before you was a small glowing fire. It cackled against the dawn of the morning, welcoming you to a new day. Lucifer must have left it for you, and you were thankful since Adam was always the one who made the fire when you two spent the nights together. You shook your head, trying to force those unpleasant memories back into the recesses of your mind. You never had to think about him ever again.
The morning came and went, peaceful and uneventful. This was the first time in a long time where you felt hopeful for the days to come. You spent most of the early hours picking the various fruits from the trees that encircled your new refuge. After sampling the delicious treats, you decided your favorite was the bright red ones with a unique shape and subtle sweet taste. You didn’t have a name for them yet, but you were sure Lucifer could tell you.
The fruits themselves became harder and harder to reach as you gathered all of the ones within your reach. You tried to jump a few times but only the tips of your fingernails were able to graze it.
“One more time,” you told yourself as you pushed off the ground with all the strength you could conjure. But as you felt as though you could reach it this time, a pale hand reached across and snatched it from the tree. You landed on the ground with a thud and looked over to who had taken your prize, and then you smiled. Lucifer floated next to the tree, tossing the fruit back and forth between either hand as he laughed. “How long have you been watching me?” you asked with a smirk.
Lucifer rubbed the back of his head and landed gracefully on the ground next to you. “Only for a minute…or two…” He handed you the fruit which you gratefully accepted.
You took a bite of the delicious food. “What are these called, Lucifer? I think they may be the best things I’ve had!”
“Apples, dear one,” the angel replied. You continued to eat the apple until you got to its core.
“And these little black bits in the middle?” you questioned; your mouth still half full.
“Seeds!” he explained. “Oh, but don’t eat them! You’re supposed to bury them in the ground. With the proper care and patience, these little seeds can grow into large trees like this one!” Lucifer went on to explain the process of growing food, and you clung to every word he spoke. Listening to him was like a melody only you could truly understand.
Over the next several days, the two of you spent as much time together as possible. Lucifer showed you everything there was to see in the garden; the animals, the plants, the flowers, and all of the wonders this place had to offer. He had to leave every night, but he was able to show you how to make a fire on your own so that you could keep warm when he could not be there. Like clockwork, Lucifer would visit you the same time every day and leave to return to heaven just as you fell asleep. You knew the great risks he was taking to spend time with you and you made it known how much you appreciated his sacrifice, showering him with praise and appreciation every chance you got. You found it adorable how he would try to hide his face with his hat or his wings when complimenting him. It was sweet in a way you couldn’t fully articulate. All you knew is that it made you happy, and so did he.
But one day, Lucifer was late.
You paced back and forth beneath your apple tree, the one you would always meet him at. But he didn’t show up today. Terrible scenarios bombarded your thoughts; what if he was caught sneaking away? What if heaven forbid him to ever come back? What if you never got to see him again?
You inhaled a deep breath, trying your best to steady your heartbeat. You knew he’d be back; he’d never leave you here. Maybe he was just late today, perhaps there was nothing malicious happening. You had to keep this mindset lest you go insane with worry. You decided a dip in the lake would calm your nerves. You always found a certain tranquility there.
After disrobing, you stepped carefully into the crystal lake, letting the warm water flood over your body, your muscles relaxing and your mind now at ease. A small family of ducks floated not too far away from you as you submerged yourself up to your shoulders. You threw your head back, your hair soaking up the clear water, as you listened to the little ducks flap their wings, spraying water every which way.
But your unanswered prayers were finally heard as you heard Lucifer's voice ring out, laced with concern.
"Songbird, where are you?!" you heard him shout, his hands holding on tight to the robe he had gifted you.
"Over here, Lucifer!" you yelled from the water waving your hand back and forth excitedly, your worries quickly dissolving after seeing he had come searching for you.
The angel froze where he stood, staring blankly at the tree horizon off in the distance instead of you. "O-oh, thank goodness, you're alright!" he seemed to be saying to no one. You found it odd that Lucifer had not looked in your direction. “I-I’m so sorry I’m so late, I had some trouble escaping Heaven’s eyes today.”
You smiled sweetly. “It’s alright, Lucifer, you don’t need to apologize.” He still hadn’t moved since you started talking. “Is something the matter? You seem distracted.”
Lucifer clung to your robe even tighter. “Nope! No! I’m perfectly fine!” he tried to lie, but you remained unconvinced. He looked stressed and his golden flush did not go unnoticed. What he needed was to relax.
“Come join me, Lucifer,” you invited him, “you don’t look so well. The water is nice and warm! Perhaps it’ll help you feel better.”
You started making your way out of the water to offer your hand, but his reaction was far from anything you were prepared for. Lucifer had dropped your robe immediately, his wings now nearly covering his entire body. You stopped your movement entirely.
“N-No, I promise I’m fine!” he continued to fib. “Could you…maybe, possibly…take a few steps back…please?”
You did as you asked and sank beneath the water once more. You had no idea why Lucifer was acting so strangely; your happiness had almost instantly turned into sadness and guilt. “I’m sorry,” you apologized, “have I done something wrong?”
“Oh! No! No, of course not! You haven’t done anything wrong!” He seemed genuinely concerned after hearing your apology which made you feel even more confused than you already were.
“I don’t understand,” you explained. “I must have upset you. You wouldn’t have asked me to step back otherwise. Even now, you’re hiding yourself from me.”
Lucifer peaked through his feathers and saw you had gone back to your original place in the water. His wings unfolded immediately, finally looking you in the eyes. “You haven’t upset me, I promise you. I didn’t mean to make you feel like you had, please forgive me. I…It’s hard to explain…” His voice trailed off as his eyes shifted to the ground. He inhaled deeply, then sighed heavily. “I never want to be the reason you're sad. Never. I’ll join you…if you still want me to.”
You gave him a weak smile and nodded slowly. You could tell something was still off with his behavior, but you knew he would never want to upset you. You knew him. This was his way of atoning. You decided not to push the issue further, at least for now. Whatever he was talking about, it was clear he was uncomfortable.
“Could you…turn around for a moment?” he asked quietly. Another odd request, but you did as he asked, your back now towards him. After only a moment or two, you hear the gentle swashing of the water behind you. And only a moment more before he spoke up again. "O-Ok, you can turn around now."
You did so, but it was clear that he was still maintaining his distance much to your disappointment. He smiled awkwardly at you; the water coming up just about to his torso. You caught yourself staring at his chest, his bright pale skin reflecting off the water. You took a single step closer, not wanting to scare him off.
"You can come closer, you know. I won't bite," you teased him.
Lucifer chuckled nervously. "I-I know you won't, but uhh, I think it's best for the both of us if I stay right here!"
You rolled your eyes at him, "Ok, well then, I'll come to you!"
He noticed as you took another step towards him and he mirrored your actions by taking a step back. "I'm not sure that's such a good idea, dove. I..."
"Don't be afraid, Lucifer," you cut him off. "Let me help you. If you’re not comfortable looking my way, why don't you turn around for me." Hesitantly, he obliged, now facing the shore line. Slowly, you approached your friend. When you were finally close enough, your arms stretched out and rested on his shoulders. His whole body tensed at your touch. He's never responded to you like that before. "It's alright," you cooed as you began to work your fingers into his muscles. Lucifer let go of the breath he was holding, his shoulders relaxing as well as his wings.
"This...this feels nice," Lucifer admitted. "Thank you. And I'm sorry again."
"For what?" you asked as your hands continued to work on his stiff body.
Lucifer sighed. "For being late. For acting strangely. And especially for upsetting you."
"You don't need to apologize," you reassured him. "I know you would never want to hurt me intentionally." You watched as his wings twitched under your delicate touch. The water slid off of his feathers easily as if they we resistant to it. The urge to reach out and touch them was growing increasingly harder to ignore. "Lucifer, may I touch them?"
He knew what you were referring to; he cocked his head to the side, still not looking at you directly. "I-I, I mean uhh, I suppose…you can. Just...be gentle, please. They can be very sensitive."
With the most delicate touch, you began to stroke his soft feathers between your fingers. Almost instantly, a breathy moan could be heard from Lucifer. You continued your ministrations, admiring their unearthly beauty. Your hands made their way down further to where his wings had sprouted from his back. You gently pinched the base of his wings, causing Lucifer to jolt away in surprise with a yelp.
“GA-AAHH!” he cried, almost falling face forward into the water. “Ok! I-I think that’s enough of that! Thank you, b-but I think I’m good to go!” The flustered Angel started to make his way to the shoreline but you were quick to grab his wrist before he could get too far.
“I’m sorry, Lucifer,” you spoke softly, “I didn’t mean to cause you any pain. Please stay…”
A flash of panic flashed across his face. “No! No, I’m not hurt! It’s just…” his head fell, gazing at the water beneath him, and gulped. “I have to go! Please forgive me for this…” His wings stretched out behind him, and with one giant flap, caused a more than forceful splash of water in your direction. You let go of his wrist to try and shield yourself from his attack. Water doused you, with some unfortunately finding its way into your mouth. You coughed furiously, trying to expel it. You were blinded for a few seconds before rubbing your eyes and finding Lucifer who was nearly dressed again. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” he called out to you, but his apologies didn’t stop you from trying to chase him down. Enough was enough, you needed an explanation. With his back turned, he had no time to prepare for your counterattack. Just as he turned to see you had gotten within inches of him, you pounced. You knocked him hard to the ground with a thud and pinned his arms above his head. He squirmed beneath you but you would not relent.
“Lucifer, what’s the matter with you?” you demanded. “You’ve never acted like this before, what changed? Please, tell me what I’ve done wrong!”
Lucifer continued to struggle against your grip. You found this odd, knowing full well he had every chance to overpower you. But he didn’t.
“My flower, p-please,” he begged, “please let me go!” His eyes trailed to your bare chest only for a brief moment before forcing himself to stare back at you, his entire face a shade of pale yellow.
You shook your head. “You can free yourself, why don’t you?”
“…I can’t risk hurting you…I won’t…” he murmured.
Your grip loosed on him slightly as your body began to tremble. "You hurt me by not being honest. I don't understand! I-" Your rant was cut short when you felt a sudden jab in your abdomen. Almost as if a bump had suddenly formed underneath you. You glanced down and noticed precisely what had caused the odd sensation. "O-Oh..." was all you could mutter.
Lucifer's whines had only increased with your discovery. "Please..." his voice was barely audible now. "You have to let me go..." You watched as a single tear fell from his eye, sliding down his flushed cheeks. You didn't know angels could cry.
Wordlessly, you finally released your hold on him, backing away slowly and sitting on your knees. Your garment that had been given to you the first day you let Lucifer laid next to you, wrinkled and disheveled. You grabbed it and pressed it tight against your chest, not wanting to upset Lucifer further.
You understood now.
A portal opened up as Lucifer stood to his feet, not daring to look in your direction. "I'll...I'll be back later tonight," he spoke softly, "I owe you an explanation, you deserve at least that much. But right now...I can't. I have to go. I'm sorry, starlight. I'm so sorry." With his solemn apology, Lucifer disappeared into the portal behind him.
You sat there in the grass in silence, refusing to move for the longest time. You went to tuck your hair behind your head, but your heart stopped. Lucifer's feather: it was gone. In a panic, your head swiveled, looking in every direction you possibly could when you finally spotted it. His feather sat alone in the calm water. Shakily you stood up and reached down and held it delicately in the palm of your hands.
And in that moment, all you could do was cry.
****
Hours had passed and Lucifer had still not returned. Night had fallen not too long ago and you found yourself huddled up next to the fire you had made. Tonight was particularly cold. Your legs you pressed tightly you your chest as your arms and head rested in your knees. You didn’t even know what you would say when Lucifer did eventually arrive, this was all…such a mess. A part of you just wanted to be left alone, but the other had a burning desire to hold him as close to you as possible. The two sides were raging war within you when you finally heard the familiar sound of another portal opening behind you. You didn’t dare to turn around.
Silently, Lucifer made his way over to you, sitting down next to you, but far enough away where there wouldn’t be any contact. You finally turned your head to look at him. The angel removed the hate from his head, fiddling with the brim. He looked so…defeated.
“I know I’ve said this way too often today,” he began to speak, “but songbird, I am deeply and truly sorry for what happened. You are not to blame for any of this. And if you told me that you never want to see me again…” he paused, not wanting to finish that thought.
“Lucifer?” he looked up at you, his eyes glossy. “My world was changed because of you. I’m safe because of you. And…I’m happy because of you. Why would I never want to see you again. That’s not a life worth living, not to me.”
Lucifer wiped his eyes, the smallest smile forming on his lips. “How can you be so understanding, so forgiving? Even some of the angels in heaven don’t show the kind of mercy you do. I mean, what happened today was…”
“Not your fault,” you finished his sentence. You shifted closer to him, Lucifer remained unmoving. “I know I haven’t existed for very long, and you don’t have to explain, I know what happened to you.” He buried his face in his lap at your confession. “Lucifer, you don’t need to be ashamed. It’s natural, is it not? It’s just a, what’s it called…a physical reaction? I just wish you would have been honest with me from the start.”
Lucifer only shook his head in anguish. “How could I?” he choked out. “It’s only natural for humans, that’s the way it’s supposed to be! This…this is forbidden amongst angels! Who am I to defy their orders when I’m already on everyone’s bad side! He stood up suddenly and began pacing back and forth. “This is a disaster! The last thing I wanted to do is hurt you and that’s all I’ve done! No wonder Heaven doesn’t take me seriously, all I do is cause trouble! It’s just mistake after mistake after mistake with me! Maybe…maybe they’re right…” He plopped back down onto the ground and stared up at the stars. “I’m just a foolish seraphim who’s in way over his head…”
You crawled over to him tentatively, your face hovering over his. You shoved away his messy hair away from his eyes. “Do you think finding me in the garden that day was a mistake?”
“No…”
“Do you think saving me from Adam was a mistake?”
“No, of course not!” he sat up straight.
“Then, do you think this is a mistake?” You leaned in too fast for Lucifer to react. Your eyes fell shut as your lips connected, but only for a moment. You pulled back only to realize that the angel became a statue, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and desire. “Lucifer, are you alright?” He didn’t respond, he only continued to stare blankly at you, almost as if he were in a trance. “Maybe one more could bring you back…” your body fell forward once more, but this time Lucifer’s arms caught you, pushing you back at your shoulders.
“Y-You…” he began to stutter, “you kissed me…” You nodded sheepishly. “But why?…”
“Because I love you, Lucifer,” you blurted out without much thought. “Because you make every day in the garden better. Because I couldn’t imagine my life now without you in it! I don’t want you to think those terrible things about yourself because they are not true! I don’t care what anyone in Heaven has said, they are wrong! They wanted me to live my life with Adam, do you not think that they are capable of making mistakes? I thank my lucky stars that I never laid with him because that would-”
“Wait, wait, slow down!” Lucifer interjected. “You never laid with Adam?!”
You stuck your tongue out in disgust. “I would never. He’s heartless and cruel and wicked. Everything you’re not.” Lucifer gulped, trying to steady his breath. “I was blessed that he never tried to force me, but I knew he didn’t care for me. All he saw was a servant, someone to take care of all his needs without ever considering mine. But you…” you pushed back against Lucifer’s arms, trying to get closer. His resistance weakened but you could tell he was still hesitant.
“Wait…” he breathed. You sat up straight and grabbed a hold of his hand, interlacing your fingers. “This is…a lot to process, flower. My mind is pulling me in so many different directions…” He grabbed your other hand, now squeezing both, and turned fully to face you. “If…If we go through with this, there’s no going back. If Heaven ever learns of this, there’s no telling what they might do. But I swear to you that I will do everything in my power to protect you. Are you willing to take that risk?”
You gripped his hand tight and leaned your head forward into his. “I am. But only if you are too.”
“Nothing on Heaven or Earth could keep me away from you.” With his confession, your lips collided once again, and you breathed a sigh of relief. Everything around you disappeared, all that mattered in that moment was you and him. His kiss was tender, delicate; he kissed you as if you were made of the most pristine glass. But you didn’t want it any other way. “I love you, my little dove,” he whispered between breaths. “My live for you is far greater than all of the stars in the sky. Do you believe that?” You nodded and smiled, pulling him into another kiss. You found yourself lying flat on the ground, Lucifer hovering over you as he continued to devour you. His hands slowly traced down the sides of your body, stopping at your hips. You needed to feel him.
“Can I remove this?” you asked him, pulling on your garment.
“M-Mhmm,” he mumbled. “O-Only if you’re comfortable.”
“Promise not to panic again?” you joked. His face flushed as you sat up and removed your clothing. You watched as Lucifer shut his eyes and inhaled deeply. “It’s alright, Luci, you can look.”
He peaked with one eye and exhaled the breath he had been holding. He let his other eye open, and all he could do was stare. You felt no shame as his eyes finally fully examined your body for the first time. His breath hitched as he climbed back over you.
“Beautiful,” Lucifer sighed. “So, so beautiful…” He leaned down to kiss you once more, but you pressed a finger to his lips playfully.
“I think it’s your turn,” you suggested.
Lucifer laughed nervously. “R-Right, right. Only fair, I suppose.”
He sat up straight and ever so slowly began to unbutton his robe. You noticed his fingers shaking more and more with each button that came undone. In your mind, he couldn’t look that much different from Adam; he’d never worn anything to cover himself. With Lucifer last button undone, he finally let the sleeves fall from his arms, his robe falling to the ground. When you finally saw him, you knew it was the most beautiful body you had ever seen. You couldn’t stop yourself from staring at his very apparent erection. For once, you found it difficult to find the words to say.
“I…I umm,” you stuttered out. Your face felt hotter than it ever has been before. Something in your stomach ached. It wasn’t a pain, but a craving. “I didn’t know they could be different sizes! Yours is bigger than Adam’s…”
Lucifer’s wings instinctively covered his body at your remark. “Sorry, sorry! Instincts!,” you heard his muffled voices through the feathers. “I just…angels do not undress in front of one another. It’s very much frowned upon.”
You crawled over to him, sticking your hand through his feathers to see his flushed yellow face. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m not an angel then, isn’t it?”
Lucifer’s first set of wings unfurled from his face, flashing you a cute but embarrassed smile. “But you are,” he retorted, “the most beautiful angel to ever exist!”
The rest of his wings fell back, he pulled you close to kiss you once again. You let your mouth fall open in desperation, and Lucifer took that as a sign to deepen the kiss. His tongue slid past your wanting lips and found yours which was more than eager to please. His hands settled on your hips once more, but that wasn’t enough. Carefully, you reached down and grabbed his hand and placed it on one of your breasts. Lucifer squeaked in surprise and pulled away from the kiss.
“You’re so cute,” you cooed, kissing his forehead. “Don’t worry, it’s alright. I-I want you to feel me.” Lucifer sighed heavily and started gently kneading at your breasts. The way he touched you felt so good, so right. You couldn’t imagine a better feeling. You laid back down while Lucifer continued with his motions, your nipples now being pinched between his soft fingers. Quiet moans escaped your throat while Lucifer began kissing down your neck and chest, sucking on your delicate skin. He ventured down to your breast, taking your nipple into his mouth, his tongue making circling motions around it. He switched to the other one after a little bit, giving your other breast the same attention. You began to whimper, it felt good. So good. And you needed more. Lucifer raised his head and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips.
“We’re going to take this slow,” he promised. “I’m going to help you get prepared for what follows, is that alright?” You nodded eagerly. He couldn’t help but chuckle just a little bit. One hand held your head while the other wandered down your body and hovered over your bare sex. “If you need me to stop, please promise me that you’ll tell me immediately. This…shouldn’t hurt, but I’m not taking any chances. I’ve never done anything like this before, but…I do know what should be done. Do you promise?”
“I promise, Luci,” you smiled. “I trust you.”
He blushed. “I like that name…Luci. Your Luci…” He kissed you once again as you felt his fingers finally touch your womanhood. You gasped at the contact, and his hand pulled away instantly. “Are you alright? Did it hurt?”
You shook your head furiously. “No, no! It didn’t hurt! It’s just…surprised me is all. Please, keep going.”
With a nod, he leaned back in to kiss you, his hands finding its way back down to where it was previously. At last, his fingers found your sensitive nub; he began to rub it. Very slowly at first as to not startle you, but slowly he began to speed up rhythmically. His lips captured your moans. The pressure in your stomach was something you had never experienced before, it felt as though the feeling kept building and building inside of you as if it was aching to release. You felt his fingers trail down just a little bit further, stroking your already soaked folds. He pushed one finger inside, and you yelped. Not in pain, no, but in pleasure. Lucifer took notice and almost took his hand away before you stopped him.
“I-I’m fine, I’m fine…just…felt good. Please don’t stop, Luci…” He did as you asked and inserted his finger fully inside you once again. Pumping it in and out, in and out, in and out. Your body conformed to his movements; your whimpers filled the night sky as he added a second finger into you. That pressure you felt was building even more now, something in your stomach felt as though it could snap at any moment. Unfortunately, Lucifer removed his hand from you and a pathetic whine fell from your lips.
“I’m sorry, starlight,” he apologized, “I just…I want to see something…” You watched as he licked the fingers than had been ravishing you. All of a sudden, his eyes became wide, and he stared down back at you. “My love, your taste is…absolutely divine. I want to try something if you’ll allow me.” You blushed at him, nodding in agreement. Lucifer made his way down your body and settled his face directly between your thighs. You felt your heart threatening to beat out of your chest as he peered up at you. “Let me know if you need me to stop at any point.”
Before you could respond, you felt his tongue drag itself up your drenched slit. You nearly screamed at the sensation, but this time, it didn’t deter Lucifer. He began to devour your pussy like a man starved, his tongue skillfully moving along your folds and your clit. He added his digits back into your heat as his mouth continued to consume you. It was so much, almost too . That pressure was back and you felt it even more than before.
“L-Lucifer,” you cried out, “Lucifer I-I feel s-something, I don’t…I-I can’t…” you words failed you as you felt that odd coil tighten to the point of no return.
“It’s okay, little dove, it’s okay,” Lucifer reassured you between his sloppy licks. “Your body’s responding to the stimulation. Relax your body as much as you can. Your body is building towards a climax. It'll be euphoric, I promise."
You did as Lucifer said untensed your muscles which made his continued ministrations even more intense. You mindlessly gripped his hair as wordless moans filled the air. You felt your body coming closer and closer to its release. You tried to warn him but no words could be formed in that state you were in. With one final cry, you felt your muscles clench around his fingers, your release spilling out of you at a rapid pace. Lucifer refused to move however as he lapped up everything your body had to offer. When the spasms stopped, your breathing slowed. Lucifer crawled back up your body with a lovestruck expression, the remainder of your release still shining on his chin. You couldn't help but feel embarrassed.
"What...what was that?" you asked still catching your breath.
"An orgasm," Lucifer explained. "It's what happens to the body when it's receiving extreme pleasure. Are you okay though? Was that too much?"
You smiled up at him. "No, it wasn't too much. It was perfect. Thank you..." You sat up to kiss him, the faint taste of your release on his lips. "So, does that mean your body is capable of the same thing?"
Lucifer suddenly became flustered. "O-Oh, well, I mean yes, b-but it's a little bit different in my case. What I mean is, it would be the same as any other man."
You pushed on his chest gently so you could sit up properly. "Can I try to return the favor, then?" Lucifer's wings fluttered behind him as you watched his face change into the deepest shade of yellow you had ever seen. "Oh golly...that's...that's very kind of you, but you r-really don't have to do that. I...It's uhhh...oh, heaven help me..."
You giggled at his reaction, shifting yourself to your knees. "You made me feel so good, Luci, let me make you feel good too. Please?"
"O-Okay," he managed to whisper. Your shifted your gaze down, finally getting a good look at his girthy length. It was impressive to say the least, and in all honestly you felt a little intimidated. It stood firm as you carefully wrapped your soft hands around the base. Lucifer's breath hitched at the sudden contact. "D-Do you know what to do?"
Your face shifted into a slight scowl. "I think so. I had the misfortune of catching Adam doing this to himself more times than I'd like to remember," you recalled and shook your head. "But from what I remember, it went like this..." Your hand finally shifted around his cock, pumping him slowly. Immediately, Lucifer's head found your shoulder as he whimpered against you. You relished in the feeling of having an all-powerful angel at your mercy with a few simple strokes. Your pace quickened after a short while, your pumps becoming more and more rapid, but never rough. Lucifer cried into your shoulder as you continues to touch him.
"M-My flower, o-oh my...it feels s-so good. Y-You feel so wonderful...please don't stop, please..." You happily did as he asked, feeling his lips press against your neck. Your hand continued its motion when you felt something drip onto it. You looked down and noticed something clear was leaking from the tip. Curiously, you took your other hand and wiped it up, bringing it to your mouth for a taste. It was...strange, but not in a bad way. All of a sudden, you had an idea. Without warning, you leaned down and gave a tentative lick to the head of his cock. Lucifer gasped as if he couldn't breathe. "W-What are you doing?!" asked in a panic.
"I wanted to taste you like you did me," you responded innocently. You took another lick, this time pressing on his slit. The cry that erupted from Lucifer's lips were heavenly.
"Love, p-please," he begged, "you don't need to do thaaaahhh-t" you silenced his protests as you wrapped your whole mouth around the tip, your tongue swirling around it furiously. You hand didn't stop its movement either as it worked in tandem with your mouth, carefully avoiding the use of your teeth. You felt Lucifer buck his hips a few times, but not enough to overwhelm you. You could tell he was getting close to his release as his body began to tremble with every little motion. But just before you know he would come undone; he pulled you back gently away from his now leaking cock. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, I-I had to stop you..."
"Oh," you sighed, "Did I do something wrong?"
Lucifer shook his head. "On the contrary love, you did everything right. Almost a little too well. I was almost on the verge of...you know."
You tilted your head in confusion. "Then why did you want me to stop?"
Lucifer laid you down again, his glassy eyes never leaving yours. "Because...I need you. I need you now. I know how selfish that sounds, b-but please...I-"
You cut him off with a kiss to his lips, his eyes falling closed. "I need you too, Lucifer. I want to be yours."
With little hesitation, Lucifer lined his cock up against your soaking entrance. He held your face in his other hand and pressed his forehead against yours. "Are you sure about this? Is this what you want?"
"I want you Lucifer, all of you. I love you."
With that, Lucifer smiled down at you and pulled you in for a kiss. "I love you too. I'm going to push in now, alright. If you feel any pain, tell me and we'll stop." You agreed. With one final shaky breath, Lucifer began to sheath himself inside you at an agonizingly slow pace. You felt your walls adjust around his girth, the familiar pressure returning once more. At last, he bottomed out inside you, the both of you finding it hard to breathe at this moment. "How are you feeling? Does it hurt?"
"N-No," you answered quietly. "I...I feel whole."
The angel couldn't help but smile. "I feel the same way. As if you were made for me. You tell me when I can move."
You gave him confirmation, and with that, Lucifer dragged himself out of you lethargically to the tip just to push in again slowly. IT was perfect he was perfect. You never felt more alive and you wished you could never leave this moment. Lucifer's hips picked up the pace, his cock dragging in and out of you. Both of your moans filling the night sky.
"Luci...Lucifer..." you whimpered in between thrusts. "Feels so good, so good, I-I love you Lucifer! Please keep going, please! I feel it again...so close..." You wrapped your arms around his back, touching the base of his wings which caused him to yelp.
"Oh heavens..." Lucifer whined against you. "You're squeezing me so tight, my dear, feels...oh my...feels perfect. I love you too...so so much..." His thrusts increase to an almost inhuman speed. The coil you felt before tightened once more, you felt yourself coming undone fast. And by the way your lover was crying out, he was too. "I-I'm close too, love, very close...I...I...I can't...HNNGG-GGAAAHHHH!" With his final cry, you felt Lucifer empty himself into you as you spasmed around him at the same time, your juices mixing together inside of you. HIs wings fluttered as you felt his cock continue to twitch inside of your gummy walls. You found yourself in a complete state of ecstasy as you clawed at his back at the peak of your release.
Lucifer nearly collapsed on top of you as he finished, his breathing staggard and labored as yours was. After a few minutes, he removed himself from you and laid next to you, his wings falling over you in a soft embrace.
"How do you feel?" Lucifer asked quietly as he pushed the hair that had fallen in your face away. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"
You smiled and shook you head. "No, I'm not hurt. I feel...so wonderful. Thank you, Lucifer."
"As do I," Lucifer murmured, returning the smile. "Can I...hold you?"
"Of course you can," You shifted your body as close to him as possible as he threw his arms around you.
"I've wanted to hold you since the moment I met you," he confessed, "I didn't feel worthy of you. Of your love. I was a fool."
You responded by planting a small peck on his lips and watched as his face flushed again. "You're more than worthy. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise." You smile faded as you realized what time had come. "I supposed...you have to leave soon, is that right? I don't want Heaven to-"
Lucifer's arms wrapped around you even tighter, forcing your head against his chest before you could finish speaking. "No, not tonight. Not ever again. I don't care what Heaven has to say. Not anymore. I'm yours now and nothing will ever change that. Whatever happens, we'll face them together. And I swear on my soul, I will not let them take you away from me."
You felt tears run down your face as you held Lucifer close. He was yours now, and you were his. You knew that whatever was to come, he would never leave your side. You two were bound together now. For all of eternity.
~~~~
IT'S FUCKING DONE, I HAVE SURGERY TOMORROW, GOODNIGHT EVERYONE, I'LL SEE YOU WHEN I'M CONSCIOUS AGAIN!!! PLEASE EXCUSE ANY MISTAKES, I'LL FIX THEM WHEN I CAN!!
EDIT: SURGERY WAS A SUCCESS! 💜
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Oath.
knight!abby x fem!reader x assasin!ellie summary: In a kingdom on the brink of new leadership, tensions run high as a coronation draws near. a/n: my apologies if this is all over the place! (wrote this while sleep-deprived..)
The grand hall of the palace was draped in regal tapestries, each one heavy with stories of past rulers, their deep, rich colors glowing under the soft light of chandeliers that hung like constellations above. The crystal fixtures sparkled like stars, casting delicate rays that danced along the polished marble floors. The fragrance of fresh roses filled the room, mingling with the sharp scent of recently cleaned stone, yet you barely noticed the elegance, your thoughts too distant to care.
You stood before the large, arched window, the panes of glass cool against your fingertips. Outside, the sun sank slowly, painting the kingdom in golden light that blended into the soft hues of amber and rose. The sky, streaked with the dying colors of the day, was beautiful—achingly so—but it felt distant. Just like everything else.
Your face remained impassive, cold, as you gazed across the horizon. Today was the day of your coronation, the day you would become queen. Yet the weight of the moment, its significance, felt strangely hollow. The echoes of excitement from the kingdom beyond the palace walls barely reached you. The crowd outside, buzzing with anticipation, their voices and footfalls merging into a dull roar, seemed as distant as the horizon itself. You were aware of the world outside, but none of it felt real.
Two maids worked around you in practiced silence, their hands quick, delicate, and efficient. One was at your side, fastening gold earrings into place, each one set with gemstones that glinted under the light. Her movements were precise, careful, though you barely registered the cool metal brushing your skin. The other maid stood behind, her fingers weaving through your hair, creating an intricate design worthy of the crown that would soon rest upon your head. They were skillful, and yet, their presence barely existed in your mind, your thoughts far beyond this room, slipping through the palace corridors like a shadow.
The maid by your side fumbled slightly as she fastened the last earring, her fingers trembling as they touched your neck. You didn’t flinch. You barely blinked. But you could sense her nervousness, feel the tension rolling off her in waves. Perhaps it was the gravity of the day, the immense pressure of serving the soon-to-be queen.
Behind you, standing just inside the doorway, was Abby Anderson—your most trusted knight, your oldest friend. Her armor gleamed in the chandelier’s soft light, the metal polished to a mirror-like shine, each plate a testament to her dedication and discipline. But Abby wasn’t watching the door or the crowd beyond the palace gates. Her focus was solely on you. It always was.
She had been by your side since childhood, her loyalty as unwavering as the steel she carried. You both had shared so much—moments of joy, of sorrow, of quiet understanding. But today, her presence felt heavier, her gaze more intense. There was something in the air between you both, something unsaid, as if she could sense the quiet storm brewing within you, the unease you hadn’t spoken aloud.
Abby’s eyes traced your face, searching for something, though you gave nothing away. The years had made her keen; she could read you like no one else could, and yet, today, there was a barrier even she could not penetrate. You were a queen in waiting, but in that moment, you felt more like a pawn—moved by forces unseen, drawn into a game far beyond your control.
At last, the maids completed their work, their fingers delicately smoothing the final strands of your hair into perfect alignment. They moved with practiced grace, their hands lingering for just a moment before they stepped back, retreating as if fearful that any further motion might shatter the silence that had settled over the room. The soft rustle of their skirts was barely audible, and their presence faded into the background entirely.
Abby’s presence lingered behind you, ever watchful. You could feel her gaze, piercing through the room’s stillness. Her armored boots softly scuffed the marble floor as she shifted, the slight sound making your spine stiffen, though you couldn’t bring yourself to move.
“You’re prepared for this.” Abby said at last, her voice cutting through the quiet with a firm conviction. It was not a question; there was no room for doubt in her words. It was a truth—her truth—a decision she had already made for you. It wasn’t just encouragement; it was certainty.
For a moment, you remained silent, letting her words hang in the air like a blade unsheathed. Your fingers idly traced the cool glass of the window, the faint lines fogging slightly under your touch. The smooth, cold texture grounded you in the present, a fleeting comfort against the storm inside your mind.
“Do you remember how angry the servants would get at us?” you asked suddenly, your voice breaking through your own silence, but softer than you expected. The memory flashed in your mind, stark against the dread of the present.
Abby looked at you, her eyes flickering with a hint of warmth as she recognized the moment you were recalling.
“We’d sneak into the kitchens,” you continued, “stealing bread, fruits—whatever we could grab. And we’d feed it to the stray animals outside the castle walls.”
Abby smiled faintly, just for a moment, her features softening in the memory. “They’d scold us for it,” she replied, her voice softer now, a distant echo of your childhood, “trying to hide the food on higher shelves or locking it away in pantries. But somehow, we always managed to find something.”
The hint of a smile tugged at the corner of your lips as you turned slightly, your gaze still distant, but now filled with the shadow of nostalgia. “And now those same servants quiver in my presence.” The words left your mouth like a quiet, bitter confession, their truth sinking deeper than you’d intended. “They bow when they see me. They fear me, Abby.”
The weight of your own words settled between you both, the warmth of the past quickly vanishing, replaced by the icy reality of the present.
Abby’s hand tightened around the hilt of her sword, her thumb brushing its pommel in a gesture that was as much instinct as it was protection. “They respect you,” she said quietly, her voice steady, though there was something deeper there, something unsaid. “They may tremble, but they will follow you, just as I do.”
Your eyes flicked back to her, meeting her gaze. For a heartbeat, neither of you spoke.
Abby, your oldest friend, had always been there, her unwavering loyalty a constant in your life. Yet today, that loyalty felt like a shield you might need more than ever.
The chill in your chest only deepened. This wasn’t about respect or loyalty—it was about survival, about strength in a world where softness was weakness. You knew the truth Abby didn’t speak. Your reign would demand coldness. It would demand sacrifice.
The crown, though it had yet to rest upon your head, already cast a heavy shadow over your soul. Its weight had not yet made contact with your brow, but you could already feel its burden pressing deeply into your very essence, seeping into your bones and shaping your thoughts.
───────
Ellie sat in the cool shadows beneath the canopy of trees, her back pressed against the rough bark, the familiar weight of her knife resting comfortably in her hand. With slow, deliberate movements, she ran the blade along the surface of an apple, peeling it in thin, spiraling ribbons. The soft scrape of metal against fruit was steady, almost meditative, and each curl of skin fell to the forest floor in a neat pile. Jesse and Dina stood a few feet away, their voices a low murmur as they discussed the crowd. Ellie didn’t bother listening. Their words were just a distant hum, like the wind rustling through the leaves above.
In the clearing beyond, the crowd surged and swayed, a restless sea of bodies gathered at the palace gates. From their hidden vantage point, Ellie could see the mass of people stretching far beyond what any of them had anticipated. The coronation had drawn the entire kingdom, it seemed, and the air was thick with the buzz of excitement, the occasional roar of cheers rising up like waves crashing against rocks. The sunlight flickered through the trees, casting dappled patterns across the forest floor, but Ellie’s focus remained on the apple in her hands, her knife carving each slice with practiced precision.
“They’re packed in there tight,” Jesse muttered, his brow furrowed as he leaned against a low-hanging branch. His eyes scanned the crowd, taking in the sheer number of people. “Getting close to the princess won’t be easy. Not with this many eyes on her.”
Dina sighed, crossing her arms over her chest as she glared at the bustling mass. “This is insane. Look at them. How are we supposed to get anywhere near her with this many people watching? We’d be lucky if we even make it to the gates without being noticed.”
Ellie didn’t respond. The blade continued its slow dance along the apple’s flesh, peeling away another thin ribbon. She could feel Dina’s frustration simmering, could sense her impatience like a crackling fire, but she wasn’t interested in engaging.
Dina’s patience snapped, her gaze shifting to Ellie with evident irritation. “And you,” she snapped, “you don’t even seem to care. You’ve been quiet the whole time. Don’t you have anything to contribute?”
Ellie’s hand paused mid-motion, her fingers tightening slightly around the knife handle. She looked up slowly, her gaze sharp and unyielding. “If you’ve got something to say, Dina, just say it. Or maybe you should focus on the task at hand instead of whining.”
Dina’s eyes flashed with anger. “Whining? You’ve been sitting here like this doesn’t matter. Do you even know what’s at stake? Or are you too busy with your little apple to care?”
Ellie rose to her feet, her movements deliberate and controlled. The knife still glinted in her hand, the apple now stripped of its skin. She fixed Dina with a steady gaze. “I know exactly what’s at stake. You think I got this job because by some mistake?”
Before Dina could say anything, Jesse stepped between them, raising his hands in a calming gesture. “Alright, enough,” he said firmly, his voice cutting through the tension. “Both of you, just stop. This isn’t the time for bickering.”
Dina huffed, her gaze still directed at Ellie but with less venom. Jesse turned to Ellie, his expression softening slightly. “Ellie’s here because Maria trusts her. She’s new to the group, sure, but she’s not new to the work.”
Ellie observed Dina’s expression shift from anger to reluctant acceptance, the tension still hanging in the air like a storm cloud. Jesse’s voice took on a firmer tone. “ If we’re going to make this plan work, we need to support eachother, stick to the plan, and cut out these pointless arguments. Got it?”
Dina didn’t immediately respond, but the rigid set of her shoulders softened slightly. She gave a grudging nod, still clearly annoyed but willing to cooperate. Jesse turned back to Ellie, offering her a brief, understanding glance
Ellie nodded in return, her eyes scanning the crowd, “There’s no way we pull this off in front of all these people. There’s no clean escape, no cover. We’d be exposed, and the guards would have us before we even got within striking distance.”
“So what? We just give up?” Dina said, “Go back to Maria and tell her we couldn’t handle it?”
Ellie shook her head, the faint smirk returning to her lips. “No, Dina. We don’t give up. We adapt. We do this the right way. We go in slow.”
“Slow?” Dina scoffed. “We don’t have time for slow.”
“We make time,” Ellie countered, stepping closer. Her voice dropped, cold and deliberate. “If we want this to work, we have to get inside. We need to learn everything—the layout of the town, the routines of the guards, how the people move, how they think. We slip into their lives like shadows. We blend in, become part of the scenery, and when the time’s right, we make our move.”
Dina shook her head, her arms still crossed defensively. “And how long is this supposed to take? A week? A month? We don’t have that kind of time.”
Ellie’s gaze flickered back to the palace, the sun casting long shadows across the stone walls. “As long as it takes,” she said quietly. “You’ve done this longer than I have, Dina, but you know this isn’t a regular kill. This is the queen-to-be. We don’t get a second shot at this. We do it right, or we don’t do it at all.”
Jesse finally spoke up, his voice calm but firm. “She’s got a point, Dina. If we rush this, we’re asking for trouble. We need to know what we’re dealing with before we act.”
Dina’s frustration was clear, but after a long moment of silence, she exhaled sharply, her shoulders dropping in reluctant acceptance. “Fine. We do it your way. But if this goes sideways, Ellie, it’s on you.”
Ellie nodded, her expression unreadable. “It won’t.”
The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting an amber glow over the town as the crowd continued to swell. The distant cheers grew louder, the anticipation in the air thickening as the coronation ceremony drew closer. Ellie watched the scene unfold, her mind already working, planning, calculating each move.
They would become part of this place—unseen, unnoticed—until the moment was right. And when it was, they would strike from the shadows, swift and lethal.
There was no room for mistakes.
───────
You jolted awake, your lungs burning as if they were being scorched from the inside. Coughs wracked your body, each spasm sending searing pain through your chest. Blinking rapidly to clear the haze from your vision, you realized the room was shrouded in thick, acrid smoke. The dim light that filtered through the dense fog was ghostly and indistinct, casting eerie shadows on the walls.
With your heart racing, you struggled to sit up, your movements slow and unsteady. The smoke clung to your skin, making it difficult to breathe, and you could feel your head growing light as if it were floating away from your body. Your eyes watered uncontrollably, and the oppressive weight of the smoke made every breath a laborious effort.
Summoning every ounce of strength, you staggered out of bed, your legs weak and uncooperative. The smoke seemed to thicken the longer you stayed in the room, and the oppressive heat made the air feel almost molten. You stumbled towards the door, each step a monumental task as you tried to shield your face with the crook of your arm, hoping to avoid inhaling more of the choking smoke.
You emerged from your bedroom, the palace engulfed in chaos. The once-grand hallways were now a nightmarish landscape of flickering flames and billowing smoke. The once-polished marble floors were now slick with soot, and the ornate tapestries that once adorned the walls were reduced to smoldering husks. The flames crackled hungrily, consuming everything in their path with an insatiable fury.
You pushed through the haze, your eyes watering, your throat raw from coughing. Your mind raced as you made your way towards your parents' quarters, the thought of them being trapped in the inferno spurring you on. The corridor twisted and turned, and the smoke grew denser, each breath feeling like it might be your last.
You reached their door, but your heart sank as you saw the chains wrapped around it. The metal glinted ominously in the firelight, each lock fastened tightly as if mocking your desperation. Your hands trembled uncontrollably as you grasped at the chains, yanking and pulling with all the force you could muster. The locks resisted stubbornly, their mechanisms cold and unyielding against your frantic efforts.
The smoke was getting thicker, searing your lungs with every inhale, and your vision was beginning to narrow as you struggled to stay conscious. You coughed violently, the sound echoing harshly in the confined space, but you didn’t stop. Your fingers clawed at the chains, your voice a ragged plea as you strained against the cold metal.
“Help! Somebody—please!” Your voice was a mere whisper against the roar of the flames, barely carrying over the din of the burning palace. The locks seemed to mock you, their resistance only heightening your sense of helplessness.
Just as the smoke began to envelop you completely, your vision dimming to a suffocating blur, a figure appeared through the haze. Abby, her armor glinting in the flickering light, burst into view. Her expression was a mix of determination and fear as she dashed towards you, her eyes wide with alarm.
“Come on, we have to get out!” Abby shouted over the roar of the flames, her voice cutting through the smoke like a lifeline.
Before you could react, Abby grabbed you by the arm with a grip that was both firm and unyielding. The intensity in her eyes brooked no argument. She began dragging you towards the corridor, her strength propelling you forward even as you struggled against her.
“No!” you yelled, your voice cracking from the strain. “My parents—please, Abby! They’re still in there! You have to save them!”
Your protests were met with a resolute silence as Abby continued to pull you away from the door. Her pace was relentless, driven by a single-minded focus on getting you to safety. You flailed against her, trying to wrench free, your fists landing weakly against her armor.
“Let me go!” you cried out, hitting her with all the strength you could muster, but Abby remained unmoved. Her face was set in a grim line, her eyes fixed ahead as she navigated the treacherous path through the burning palace.
“I can’t!” Abby shouted back, her voice carrying an edge of desperation. “We’re not safe here!”
The corridor seemed to stretch endlessly as Abby dragged you away, each step pulling you farther from the locked door and your parents. The smoke thickened, wrapping around you like a choking shroud, and the heat became unbearable. You could see the door now, its chains glinting through the smoke, but it was growing smaller and smaller with each passing second.
“Abby, stop!” you pleaded, your voice a strained whisper. “We need to go back!”
Abby’s grip tightened, her determination unwavering. “It’s too late,” she said firmly. “The fire’s spreading too fast!”
You could feel the heat intensify as the flames roared closer, the walls of the palace crumbling around you. The inferno’s glow painted the walls in flickering hues of orange and red, and the once-familiar corridors were now a labyrinth of destruction.
Your parents’ door was now a distant memory, the vision of it being consumed by the flames etched in your mind. Tears streamed down your face, mixing with the sweat and smoke as Abby continued to pull you away, her determination a beacon in the chaos.
“Don’t—don’t leave them!” you sobbed, your strength waning as the fire grew fiercer. Your struggles became weaker, your body exhausted by the smoke and the frantic escape.
───────
“We must go now, Your Majesty.” A maid’s voice echoed through the room. She stood at the doorway, her head peeking in cautiously as if unsure whether to intrude on the final moments of your preparation. Her uniform was impeccably crisp, and her eyes darted nervously between you and the room, her posture stiff and formal.
You blinked, the trance you had been in dissolving as you scanned the room with renewed focus. The reflection in the mirror caught your eye. For a moment, the reflection seemed almost foreign, a ghostly echo of the queen you were about to become.
You turned to face Abby, who stood steadfast near the door. Her presence was as constant and reassuring as ever, her armor gleaming softly in the dim light. She hadn’t moved an inch from her post, her gaze locked on you with an intensity that was both protective and unwavering. It was as if she was willing to stand there for an eternity if it meant ensuring your safety and success.
You met her eyes, holding the gaze with a mixture of determination and an unspoken bond that had been forged over years of friendship and loyalty. The moment stretched, silent and weighty, a silent conversation passing between the two of you.
With a final, lingering look at the mirror, you straightened your posture and adjusted the layers of your gown, the fabric rustling softly with the movement. The intricate embroidery glinted in the light, the gold threads catching the soft glow and accentuating the grandeur of the ensemble. You took a deep breath, gathering the last of your composure.
“Shall we go?” you asked Abby, your voice steady but carrying a hint of the gravity of the occasion.
Abby’s expression softened, though her stance remained resolute. She nodded slowly, her eyes reflecting both pride and a hint of anxiety. “Yes, Your Majesty,” she said softly, her voice carrying the unspoken promise of her protection.
The maid stepped aside, allowing you and Abby to pass. As you walked towards the door, the echo of your footsteps seemed louder than usual, the soft click of your heels against the marble floor punctuating the stillness of the room. The grand hall awaited, filled with the thrumming anticipation of the crowd, the culmination of everything you had worked towards.
You took one last deep breath, feeling the weight of the crown and the enormity of your impending role settle over you. With a final, resolute glance back at the room—the sanctuary you were leaving behind—you stepped through the door and into the corridor beyond. The sounds of the cheering crowd and the distant murmur of the kingdom’s voices grew louder as you approached the grand hall, each step bringing you closer to your fate.
#ellie williams#abby anderson#ellie x fem reader#ellie x reader#ellie fanfic#ellie x y/n#abby anderson x reader#abby fanfiction#abby x reader#abby tlou#abby anderson au#ellie williams au
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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | series
Dbf! Joel Miller x female reader
"𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥, 𝘯𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦."
summary: In the small town near Austin, Texas, you are trapped in a life of rigid expectations and silent suffering. As the preacher's daughter, you endure the mental and physical abuse of your father while your mother, bound by obedience, offers quiet love. Your longing for a father's warmth finds an unexpected solace in Joel Miller, your father's best friend and neighbor. In Joel's presence, you discover a forbidden sanctuary, where your yearning heart is met with a gentle strength you've never known.
warnings: 18+ only, Minors DNI, AU, No outbreak. (TW) mentions of substance abuse/alcohol use disorder, adult content, religion abuse, violence, blood gore, mentions of death, sexual abuse, sexual content, domestic violences, ped0ph!l1a, cann1bal!sm, human traff1ck1ng, dad's best friend!Joel, HUGE age gap (i will not specify her exact age, but she's legal and Joel is 49), daddy issues, mentions of toxic family dynamic, Joel is widowed, Ellie is 16, angst, smut A LOT, forbidden relationship, soft and protective Joel, innocent and pure reader. your last name is Gibson. any other details will be explain throughout the story. inspired by the album Preacher's daughter by Ethel Cain and also mix with lana del rey vibes.
CHAPTER 1
masterlist of the series!
next | chapter 2
The Texas sun had a way of casting long, dramatic shadows across the sprawling landscape, painting the world in hues of gold and amber. In small town near Austin, the heat clung to everything, wrapping the town in a sweltering embrace that seemed to slow time itself. You, a preacher's daughter on the cusp of graduation, trapped in the rigid confines of a life dictated by faith and fear.
Your father, Reverend Gibson, was a towering figure in the community, his voice booming from the pulpit every Sunday, filling the church with sermons about sin and salvation. To the congregation, he was a man of God, a beacon of righteousness. But within the walls of your home, he was a tyrant. His heavy hand and harsh words left marks not just on your skin, but deep within your soul. Your mother, ever the obedient wife, offered what little comfort she could, but her love was a quiet, subdued thing, overshadowed by her fear of defying your father.
The Millers lived just a few houses down, their home a testament to both prosperity and tragedy. Joel Miller was your father’s best friend from high school, a bond forged in the fires of youth but strained by the paths they had chosen. While your father found his calling in the church, Joel built a successful construction business with his younger brother, Tommy.
Joel and Tommy not live far from each other, while your house is just one house away from Joel, Tommy is a few houses down from Joel's.
The Miller brothers were well-known and respected in the community, their work evident in the many buildings that dotted the town.
Joel’s life had been forever altered by a single, devastating moment. He had lost his wife and daughter in a car accident, an accident where he had been behind the wheel. The guilt of their deaths weighed heavily on him, a burden he carried in the lines of his face and the shadows in his eyes.
Since that tragic day, he had distanced himself from the church, finding solace instead in his work and in raising his adopted daughter, Ellie. Joel has adopted Ellie when she was only 10 years old with the help of Tommy.
At 16, Ellie was a spirited girl, one of your juniors at school. She attended church every Sunday with her uncle Tommy, her presence a reminder of the Millers’ lingering faith.
Tommy, married to Maria, had recently welcomed a baby boy into their family. The joy of new life was a stark contrast to the sorrow that had marked Joel’s existence. The Millers were a close-knit family, their bonds of loyalty and love a stark contrast to the fractured and tense environment of your own home.
You had known the Millers your entire life, their presence a constant thread in the fabric of your existence. Yet, as you stood on the brink of adulthood, your interactions with them took on a new significance. Your father’s sermons about the dangers of straying from the path of righteousness echoed in your mind, but so did your longing for something more, something real and tangible.
It was just another Sunday, and you were helping your dad with the after-service fellowship. The congregation mingled in the church hall, sharing coffee and pastries, their voices a low hum of conversation and laughter. You moved through the crowd with a tray of refreshments, offering smiles and polite nods, your mind elsewhere.
The Sunday service had been like any other, filled with hymns, prayers, and your father’s booming voice delivering his sermon. Today, he had spoken about temptation and the perils of straying from God’s path, his words heavy with the weight of his own fervent belief. As always, you felt the eyes of the congregation on you, the preacher’s daughter, the living example of his teachings.
You couldn’t help but glance towards the back of the room, where Tommy and Ellie stood, their presence a rare but welcome sight. Joel, as expected, was absent, his appearances in church growing increasingly sporadic since the accident.
Your thoughts kept drifting to Joel Miller. It had been years since the tragedy that had claimed his wife and daughter, leaving an indelible mark on him, transforming a once regular churchgoer into a haunted, reclusive figure.
You didn't really know or remember Joel's wife and daughter. Sarah Miller had been much older than you, and she passed away when you were only five. The memories you had of them were hazy at best, a blur of faces and voices that you couldn’t quite place.
Ellie caught your eye and waved, her smile bright and genuine. You waved back, feeling a pang of longing for the carefree spirit she embodied. She was one of the few people in your life who treated you like a normal person, not just the preacher’s daughter.
After the service, as the crowd began to thin, you found yourself gravitating towards Tommy and Ellie. Tommy, ever the warm and approachable figure, greeted you with a smile. “Hey, kiddo. How’ve you been?”
You returned his smile, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly. “I’m good, Tommy. How’s Maria and the baby?”
Tommy’s face lit up with pride. “They’re great. Little Luke’s growing like a weed. Maria’s over the moon, of course.”
Ellie nudged you playfully. “You should come over and meet him sometime. He’s the cutest.”
You laughed softly. “I’d love that.”
Tommy’s expression grew more serious as he glanced around the room. “How’s your dad doing with all the church activities? Keeping busy?”
You nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah, he’s always got something going on. Keeps him out of trouble, I guess.”
Tommy chuckled. “Good to hear. Your family always looks so put together. It’s impressive, really.”
You shrugged, trying to brush off the compliment. “We just try to do our best.”
As you continued chatting, the weight on your shoulders seemed to lighten, if only for a moment. Ellie shared stories about school, her infectious laughter bringing a smile to your face.
“So, any plans after graduation?” Ellie asked, her eyes twinkling with curiosity.
You hesitated, the uncertainty of your future looming large. “I’m not sure yet. I’ve been thinking about college, but it’s complicated.”
Tommy’s expression grew serious again. “You should follow your dreams, kid. Don’t let anything hold you back.”
You nodded, grateful for their support. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks, Tommy.”
As you chatted with Tommy and Ellie, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. Glancing around, you caught your father’s stern gaze from across the room. His eyes were a silent warning, a reminder of your place and the expectations that came with it.
Excusing yourself, you slipped out of the church hall, needing a moment of solitude. Your dad won't notice you are gone a little, your job has been taken by your mom.
The Texas heat hit you as soon as you stepped outside, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the gravel parking lot. You decided to walk, the streets feeling empty because everyone was still in church. As you walked aimlessly, your mind whirled with conflicting thoughts and emotions.
You found yourself drawn towards the lake behind the church and the town, a place far enough to avoid everyone. The lake and the surrounding forest were comforting, a sanctuary from the oppressive atmosphere of your home.
Looking around to ensure you were alone, you carefully pulled out your cigarettes and lit one, taking a long drag. Your parents never knew you were quite a smoker, especially your father. If he ever found out, the repercussions would be severe, his wrath swift and unrelenting. The thought of his anger made you shudder.
You decided to sit by the old fallen tree near the lake. It was very quiet, the only sounds were the rustling of leaves and the gentle lapping of water against the shore. You loved to come here every chance you got, a hidden escape from the prying eyes and harsh judgments of your daily life. As you exhaled a cloud of smoke, you heard a rustling sound in the underbrush.
Startled, you quickly put out your cigarette and looked up. Emerging from the trees was Joel, a hunting rifle slung over his shoulder. Your heart pounded in your chest as you met his gaze. "Joel?" you stammered, hoping he hadn’t noticed the cigarette.
He looked at you, then at the still-smoking cigarette butt near your feet. His expression was unreadable, but you felt a wave of fear. What if he told your father?
Joel approached, his steps slow and deliberate. "Didn’t expect to see you out here," he said, his voice as gruff as ever.
You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady. "I… I just needed some air."
Joel’s eyes flicked to the cigarette again. "That why you’re hiding out here? To smoke?"
You bit your lip, the truth hanging heavily between you. "Please don’t tell my dad," you whispered, the desperation clear in your voice.
Joel sighed, his expression softening slightly. "Your secret’s safe with me," he said finally, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Relief flooded through you, and you nodded gratefully. "Thank you,"
As you stood up, brushing off the dirt and bits of wood that had stained your dress, you noticed Joel's gaze lingering on the rifle in his hand and the heavy boots caked with mud.
"You didn’t come to church today," you said, your curiosity overcoming your apprehension. You had noticed his absence with the frequency that had become almost routine over the years.
He glanced at you, the stern lines of his face softening slightly. “Yeah, I’ve been... busy,” he replied, his tone clipped and noncommittal.
You took in the sight of him, his rugged appearance a stark contrast to the tidy, polished look of the other churchgoers. The rifle and the muddy boots seemed to tell a story of their own, a story that was far removed from the neat rows of pews and the polished wooden floors of the church.
“You know, Father always says that you used to come every Sunday,” you said, trying to sound casual. “He misses you at church. Everyone does.”
Joel’s expression hardened again, the hint of vulnerability disappearing behind his usual reserve. “Yeah, well, things change,” he said tersely, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “People change.”
You wanted to press further, to understand what had driven him away, but you knew better than to push too hard. Joel was a man of few words, his emotional landscape a guarded territory. You had seen it in the way he interacted with Ellie, the way he kept his distance, the way he seemed to be perpetually battling some invisible storm.
"Are you okay?" you asked quietly, your concern slipping through despite your efforts to remain detached.
Joel’s eyes met yours, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of something raw and unspoken. He shook his head, as if to clear the thoughts from his mind. "Just trying to get by, same as anyone," he said gruffly. “Out here, it’s a little easier to do that.”
You nodded, accepting his answer even if it left many questions unanswered. The silence between you stretched, filled only with the distant chirping of birds and the gentle rustling of leaves.
Joel shifted, breaking the silence. “What are you doing out here anyway? It’s quite a trek from town. This place isn’t exactly safe, you know.” His tone was a mixture of concern and curiosity, revealing a sliver of his protective nature.
You sighed, glancing around the lake and forest. “I needed a break. Just... needed to be away from everything for a bit. It’s peaceful here." You looked at Joel, your eyes subtly asking if it was okay to continue smoking.
Joel noticed your look but chose not to comment immediately. Instead, he took a few steps closer, his boots crunching softly on the gravel. You took that as an invitation and sat down under a large tree near the lake, patting the grass beside you.
“Feel free to join me if you want,” you offered, your voice light despite the heaviness of the situation.
Joel hesitated for a moment before sitting down next to you. His presence was a grounding force, even if he wasn’t the most expressive. He glanced at the cigarette pack you had placed on the grass between you.
“Want one?” you offered, extending the pack towards him.
Joel shook his head with a faint, rueful smile. “Nah, I’m good. I’m not sure it’s right to be smoking in front of you.”
You laughed softly, shaking your head. “I thought you of all people wouldn’t judge me for it.”
Joel chuckled, a rare, genuine sound. “Yeah, well, I guess I’m a bit of a hypocrite when it comes to that. I’ve had my share of bad habits.”
You nodded, accepting his refusal. “How are you, Joel? I don’t see you much,” you said, your curiosity evident. It was true; Joel had been increasingly distant from the people in your town, retreating into a shell of his own making.
He met your gaze briefly, a flicker of something you couldn’t quite place crossing his features. “Just... getting by. Working hard, dealing with stuff. Not much else to it.”
There was a weariness in his voice that spoke of battles fought silently and wounds healed only with time. It was clear that the years had not been kind to Joel, even if he tried to mask it behind a facade of rugged determination.
You sensed that pushing further wouldn’t get you anywhere. Joel was not one to open up easily, and you could see that the topic of his feelings was closed off. You decided to shift the conversation, sensing that it was best to focus on something lighter.
"How’s school?” he asked, his tone shifting to something slightly more personal but still restrained. “Almost done, right?”
You nodded, a smile touching your lips despite the lingering tension. “Yeah, I’m just a few months away from graduating. It’s been a whirlwind, but I’m looking forward to it.”
“That’s good to hear,” Joel replied, giving a slight nod. “High school’s a big deal. A lot changes after that.”
You shifted slightly, tucking your legs beneath you as you sat on the grass. “It is. It feels like the end of one chapter and the start of another.” You took a deep drag from your cigarette, the smoke curling around you in the still air. Exhaling slowly, you continued, “I just want to get out of here.”
Joel’s gaze, always direct, fixed on you. He didn’t speak immediately, allowing the weight of your words to settle between you. He shifted his weight, leaning slightly on the rifle, his hands still coated in the grime of the day’s work. “Yeah?” he finally said, his tone soft but edged with curiosity. “Where do you want to go?”
You looked out over the lake, its calm surface reflecting the last rays of the sun. “Anywhere but here,” you said with a sigh. “I want to leave this town, start fresh somewhere new. I’ve been dreaming about it for a long time.”
Joel watched you silently for a moment, his expression unreadable. “Sometimes getting out can seem like the only way to find something better,” he said slowly. “But it ain’t always as simple as it sounds.”
You took another drag from your cigarette, the ember glowing brightly as you exhaled. “I know it’s not that simple,” you said quietly. “But it feels like I’m suffocating here. I just need... something different. Something real.”
Joel’s eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze not unkind but keenly observant. There was a protective instinct in him that had always been there, even when you were much younger. He sensed there was more to your words than just a desire to leave town. The carefully constructed façade of normalcy that your family projected wasn’t lost on him, though he had never delved into the specifics of your home life.
“You know,” Joel began, his voice taking on a slightly softer tone, “sometimes people want to leave for reasons that go beyond what they’re willing to say. It’s one thing to want a new place, but it’s another to be running from something.”
You stiffened slightly, the cigarette now nothing more than a stub between your fingers. You were careful not to let your emotions betray you. “It’s not just about running away,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “It’s about finding a place where I can breathe.”
Joel nodded, his gaze steady. “And you think you’ll find that out there?”
“I hope so,” you said. “I just need to get out and find out for myself. It’s been hard to see beyond this place.”
Joel shifted his weight, leaning on his rifle. His rugged face, often set in lines of stoicism, now bore a hint of concern. “You know, I’ve seen a lot of folks runnin’ away from what they don’t want to face. Sometimes they find what they’re lookin’ for, sometimes they don’t. But it’s dangerous out there for someone who’s not ready.”
You looked at him, sensing the genuine concern behind his words. “I’m ready,” you said softly. “I’ve been ready for a long time.”
Joel studied you for a moment longer, his fatherly instincts kicking in. He could see the innocence in your eyes, the quiet strength that belied your troubled soul. He had been a father before, and he knew what it was like to want to protect someone from the harsh realities of the world.
But then, with a shift in his demeanor, Joel decided it wasn’t his business to involve himself further. He cared for you, that much was clear, but he also knew his boundaries. His expression hardened slightly, a testament to his tendency to keep people at a distance.
“Look,” he said gruffly, his Southern accent thickening his words, “it’s not my place to get too involved in this. You’re gonna have to handle things your way.” His tone was direct, carrying the weight of a man who had learned to let his actions speak louder than his words.
Despite the coldness in his voice, there was a flicker of tenderness in his eyes, a brief glimpse of the protective instincts that lingered beneath his guarded exterior. Joel operated in a morally gray area, making decisions that were often difficult and controversial, and he understood the complexities of navigating a world where right and wrong were not always clear.
He wanted to help, but his experience had taught him that sometimes the best way to show care was to step back and allow others to find their own way.
“You know,” Joel said, shifting the topic slightly, “Ellie talks about you sometimes. Says you’re smart, and she admires you for stickin’ it out. She’s got a good head on her shoulders, but she looks up to you. So, if there’s ever a time you need someone to talk to, or if you just need a friend, don’t hesitate to reach out. I may not be the best at this whole ‘talkin’’ thing, but I’m here if you need me.”
You appreciated his attempt to offer support, even if it came in a roundabout way. “Thanks, Joel. It’s nice to know that someone cares,” you said, smiling as you put out the cigarette.
Joel watched you with a mixture of concern and curiosity, as if weighing whether to press further. You could see that he was struggling with how much to say, his usual reserve at odds with the genuine warmth he was trying to convey.
“Well,” you said, glancing at the fading light, “I should head back to the church before Dad notices I’m gone.”
Joel shifted his stance, a hint of hesitation in his eyes. “You sure you don’t want a ride back? It’s a long walk, and it’s gettin’ dark.”
You shook your head, feeling a pang of guilt for declining his offer. “I appreciate it, Joel, but I don’t want to trouble you. I can manage the walk.”
Joel’s brow furrowed, and he gave a firm nod. “It ain’t no trouble. It’s just a ride. Besides, I’d rather make sure you get back safely.”
His insistence made you feel slightly uncomfortable, but you also recognized his sincerity. Raised to be polite and considerate, you found it difficult to refuse when someone was being genuinely helpful.
“Alright,” you said reluctantly, “if you insist. Thank you.”
Joel nodded, his face softening a bit as he walked over to his truck. The vehicle was old but reliable, with a rugged appearance that matched Joel’s own. He opened the passenger side door for you, gesturing for you to get in.
As you climbed into the truck, Joel got into the driver’s seat and started the engine. The interior was a mix of practical and worn, with a faint smell of leather and earth. Joel drove with a steady, practiced hand, the truck rumbling over the uneven terrain as he navigated the path back to town.
The silence in the truck was comfortable, with only the sound of the engine and the occasional rustle of the trees breaking it. You stared out the window, the fading sunlight casting a warm glow over the landscape. You could feel the weight of the day’s conversations settling in, and the quiet offered a moment of reflection.
After a few minutes, the truck rolled into town, the familiar sights coming into view. Joel slowed as he approached the church, where you could see the remaining congregants beginning to disperse.
Joel pulled up to the curb and stopped the truck. "We're here."
"Thank you once again, Joel. It’s good catching up with you," you said, giving him a grateful smile. Just as you were about to step out of the truck, you spotted your father from a distance. A sinking feeling washed over you as you realized he had seen you.
“Oh no,” you muttered, catching Joel’s eye. He turned to see your father walking towards the truck, a determined look on his face.
Joel, ever the gentleman, exited the truck as well. You followed suit, feeling a knot tighten in your stomach. Your father, who had been conversing with some church members, excused himself and made his way towards you and Joel.
“Evening, Reverend,” Joel greeted, extending a hand.
“Evening, Joel,” your father said with his usual charming demeanor, shaking Joel’s hand firmly. “It’s been a while. I hope you’ve been well.”
Joel’s expression was polite but reserved. “Can’t complain. Been keeping busy.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” your father replied smoothly. “You know, we’ve missed you at church. It would be good to see you back.”
Joel gave a noncommittal nod, his discomfort barely masked. “Maybe sometime.”
As your father turned his attention to you, his smile faltered slightly. “And where have you been, young lady? You were supposed to help with the service.”
You flinched at the stern tone, feeling his grip tighten around your arm as he spoke. “I was just taking a walk, Dad. Joel gave me a ride back.”
Your father’s grip was rough and unyielding, his fingers digging into your arm with a strength that was both painful and controlling. Joel noticed, his gaze briefly flicking to your father’s hand before returning to his face.
“Is that right?” your father said, his voice carrying a hint of disapproval. “Well, I hope you weren’t gone too long. We have responsibilities.”
"Yes, I'm sorry, father." You said smile a little to hide the pain he's causing you.
Joel cleared his throat, attempting to steer the conversation away from the tension. “I’m just making sure she gets back safe."
“Of course,” your father said, releasing your arm but maintaining a veneer of politeness. “We have a dinner invitation from Tommy and Maria next Saturday. I trust you’ll be joining us?”
Joel looked momentarily surprised. “Well, I'm supposed I am,"
Your father’s smile widened, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes. “Yes, they extended the invitation to our family. It will be good to catch up.”
Joel nodded, his expression neutral. “I’ll have to check with Ellie, but I’m sure we’ll make it.”
“Excellent,” your father said, still maintaining his charming facade. “It’ll be good for everyone to reconnect.”
As the conversation continued, Joel’s discomfort grew. He noticed the strain in your father’s demeanor and the way he seemed to be masking a more sinister undertone behind his polite words. Joel had been out of the social loop for a while, but he was perceptive enough to sense when something was off, even if he chose not to probe further.
“Well,” Joel said, his tone shifting to one of finality, “I better be on my way. Got some things to take care of. It was good seeing you again, Reverend. And you too,” he added, offering you a brief, reassuring smile.
You gave him a grateful nod, feeling a mixture of relief and apprehension. “Thank you, Joel."
Joel, giving one last nod before turning to leave. As he walked away, you could feel the weight of the evening’s encounters settling heavily on your shoulders. The brief respite you’d found in Joel’s company had been overshadowed by the return of your father’s control and the unsettling realization that your escape from this small town and its complexities might be more challenging than you had hoped.
After the Sunday service, you returned home with a heavy heart. The warmth of the day had turned cold, and the familiar feeling of dread settled over you as you approached the house. Inside, the tension was palpable, and the moment you walked through the door, you knew there would be consequences for your absence during the service.
Your father’s voice was stern and unforgiving as he called you into the living room. “You’ve abandoned your duties. Do you have any idea what that means?”
You tried to explain, but his anger cut you off. “I was just trying to get some fresh air, Dad. I didn’t mean—”
Before you could finish, he was on you, grabbing your arm with a grip that left no room for argument. He dragged you to the center of the room, his face a mask of fury. “You’ve abandoned your duty. It’s about respect and responsibility. You know how important this is.”
“No, please, Dad, don’t. I’m so sorry. I will not do it again,” you pleaded, your voice trembling.
The fear in your voice only seemed to fuel his anger. He disappeared into the hallway, returning with his belt in hand. The leather looked menacing, and your heart raced as you saw it.
“Please, Dad, I’m sorry,” you continued to beg. “I didn’t mean to disobey. I’ll make it right. Just please—”
Your father’s face was a mask of cold determination. “Take off your dress and face the wall,” he ordered, his voice steely. “You needs to be taught a lesson.”
You could barely keep your composure as you undressed, your body shaking with fear and dread. The scars on your back from a previous punishment throbbed with anticipation. When you were finally positioned with your back to him, every nerve in your body was on edge.
The first crack of the belt was sharp and painfully immediate. The sound echoed through the room, followed by a searing pain that made you flinch. You cried out, tears streaming down your face. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” you sobbed, your voice breaking with each cry of pain.
You could feel the belt cutting into your already tender skin, the sensation of bleeding mixing with the agony of the blows. Each strike felt like a betrayal of your trust, a reminder of the harsh world you were trapped in.
Your mother stood in the doorway of the kitchen, her face pale and tear-streaked. She wanted to intervene, but fear held her back. She could only watch helplessly as you were punished, her own sobs mingling with your cries of pain.
In a desperate attempt to mask the sounds of the abuse from the neighbors, she turned the gospel music up loud, hoping the noise would cover your screams and your father’s harsh words.
The music blared in the background, a twisted contrast to the suffering in the room. It felt like a cruel mockery, the joyous hymns clashing with the reality of your punishment. Your mother’s tears fell silently as she stood by, unable to offer more than the muted comfort of her presence.
As the beating continued, your strength waned. The pain was overwhelming, a relentless reminder of the control your father exerted over every aspect of your life. You could only endure, hoping for it to end soon, each moment stretching out painfully as you clung to the hope that this would be the last of such torment.
When he finally stopped, you were left huddled on the floor, your body aching and your spirit broken. Your father’s anger subsided, leaving him with a cold, resolute expression. “I hope you’ve learned your lesson,” he said gruffly, his voice devoid of empathy. “Disobedience won’t be tolerated.”
Your mother rushed to your side as soon as your father left the room, her hands trembling, “I’m so sorry,” she whispered through her tears, her voice filled with sorrow and helplessness.
You looked at her through blurred vision, your own tears mingling with hers. “I—It's okay, mama." you said weakly, your voice strained and shaky. “It’s my fault."
She helped you put your dress back on, her fingers brushing gently over the raw marks on your skin, causing you to wince. Each movement was a reminder of the pain you were enduring.
As you slowly gathered your strength, your mother helped you to a nearby chair, her hands still shaking. She sat beside you, her presence a small but comforting anchor in the storm of your emotions. The music from the kitchen blared on, a cruel backdrop to the quiet moments of shared sorrow between mother and daughter.
In the midst of the pain and turmoil, there was a flicker of hope that someday, somehow, you might find a way out of the darkness. For now, though, you could only cling to the small comforts and the hope that things might one day be different.
#dbf!joel miller x reader#pedro pascal x reader#joel miller x reader#pedro pascal smut#joel miller smut#pedro pascal#dbf!joel#dbf!joel miller#the last of us#the last of us hbo#tlou#tlou hbo#joel miller the last of us#joel miller#joel miller tlou#ethel cain#southern americana#southern gothic#southern aesthetic#preachers daughter#lizzy grant#lana del rey#tommy miller#ellie williams
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⋆ ˚。 ⋆୨ The Ghost of You ୧⋆ ˚。 ⋆
"This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy love more strong // To love that well which thou must leave ere long." -William Shakespeare (Sonnet 73)
PART V: ‘CAUSE I CAN’T TAKE THIS PAIN FOREVER
zombie apocalypse sevika x reader au!: sevika was the super soldier; a killing machine driven solely by survival. you were nomadic, constantly searching for something in whatever was left of the world—till you met her.
series masterpost: part I // part II // part III // part IV
wc: 8.3k cw: smut (MINORS DNI!!!) author's note: thank you to everyone who read/comments + i see your tags on the reposts you guys make me gay and sappy with all your support tysm 💗 (also im so sorry if the smut is so mid I’m not a smut writer and it’s my second time writing smut ever smhhh)
Fifteen died. Including Grayson.
Daylight is spent in a daze of cleaning up, tending to the wounded, and trying to process the magnitude of what's happened. People are trying to piece together what little they can salvage, but the damage is more than just physical.
As night falls, the community gathers for a final farewell. The loss is too great, too much to be exposed under the harsh light of day. The night offers a semblance of protection, a cloak under which everyone can mourn and where grief can be private.
Candles flicker in the hands of those gathered and the atmosphere is thick with sorrow. Families huddle together, some on their knees beside makeshift crosses, others standing in silent clusters. The candles illuminate their tears, turning them into tiny rivers of gold that glisten in the darkness.
You stand by Grayson’s cross, surrounded by those who knew and loved her. Vander, his broad shoulders tense and Ekko clutches his candle so tightly that the wax has begun to drip onto his fingers. Powder leans into Vi, who wraps a protective arm around her sister. Caitlyn stands close, her face a mask of composed grief, but her eyes are red-rimmed and distant. Ren holds onto your hand tightly, her small fingers interlaced with yours.
Your gaze keeps drifting to the shadows, searching for one face in particular.
Then, as if conjured by your thoughts, you spot her. She’s standing under a tree, half-hidden in the shadows. The candlelight doesn’t reach her, leaving her face partially obscured, but you can tell it’s her. She's motionless, almost statuesque, her expression unreadable.
There’s something in the way she’s watching the scene before her that sends a shiver down your spine. It’s almost as if she’s already a ghost herself, a spirit haunting the edge of the gathering. There’s an emptiness to her, as if the life has been drained out of her and what remains is only a shell, a figure standing over a world she no longer belongs to.
A heaviness resides in your chest, a deep, aching sadness that mirrors the grief of those around you. Grayson’s loss is a wound that cuts deep. She was the heart of this community, the one who held everyone together. And now she’s gone, leaving behind a legacy that feels too big, too important to carry on without her.
The vigil continues, but you feel a shift in the air, a quiet, unspoken understanding that it’s time to go, that there’s nothing more to be done here tonight. Slowly, people begin to leave, one by one, their footsteps soft on the grass. You hesitate, your gaze lingering on Sevika one last time. She hasn’t moved, hasn’t acknowledged your presence or anyone else’s.
As your family and Ren head to a neighbor’s house, seeking comfort in numbers, you seek solace in solitude instead.
The silence is almost deafening in your room. You close the door behind you, leaning against it for a moment as you let out a shaky breath.
There’s a soft knock at the door, and for a moment, you think you might be imagining it. But then it comes again, and you push yourself away from the door, your heart pounding in your chest as you reach for the handle.
When you open the door, Sevika is standing there, but she’s not the woman you remember. There’s a hollow look in her eyes, a deep exhaustion etched into every line of her face. She’s hunched over slightly as if the weight of everything has finally broken through her defenses.
For a moment, you just stare at each other, neither of you knowing what to say.
"What's going on?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
Without a word, she steps into the room, her movements slow and almost hesitant.
"Sevika..." you start, but the words die in your throat as she looks at you. Her eyes, usually so guarded, are now pools of raw emotion.
"I could have lost you yesterday," she says, her voice cracking. "I almost did."
You step back and fall onto the edge of your bed, overwhelmed by the intensity of her gaze, the weight of her words.
Sevika falls to her knees before you, burying her face in your lap. Her body shakes, hands clutching desperately at your clothes. The sight of her kneeling before you sends a shockwave through your system. This is Sevika, the woman who’s always stood tall, who’s never shown weakness.
“Please…” The word escapes her lips in a raw, broken whisper, her voice laced with a desperation you’ve never heard from her before. “Please… I can’t take this pain forever.”
Your hands hover uncertainly over her. She’s seeking you, but you find yourself instinctively pushing back, your fingers gripping her shoulders to keep some distance between you. The urge to comfort her wars with the part of you that’s terrified—terrified that if you let her in again, she’ll leave, and you’ll be left with nothing but this overwhelming pain.
Why now? your eyes ask, the ache in your chest tightening. Why now, when I don’t even know if I can trust you not to leave again?
Sevika looks up, her eyes red-rimmed and filled with vulnerability. She reaches for you, but you flinch away, your body betraying your inner turmoil. I won’t, her eyes seem to respond. her hands clinging to you as if you’re the only thing keeping her from falling apart completely.
The push and pull become physical - Sevika's hands grasping at your clothes, trying to draw you in, while you resist, your grip on her arms keeping her at bay. You see the realization dawn in Sevika's eyes as she understands your hesitation. She doesn't speak, doesn't try to persuade you with words. Instead, she simply holds your gaze, her hands loosening their grip but not letting go entirely.
The tension between you is palpable, a living thing that fills the space between your bodies. You can feel it gnawing at you - the fear that she’ll pull away, that this moment will shatter like glass.
Slowly, almost imperceptibly, Sevika's resistance fades. She doesn't try to pull you closer anymore, but she doesn't move away either. She simply kneels there, her head bowed, waiting.
It's this surrender that finally breaks through your defenses. Your hands, which were pushing her away, now tremble as they cup her face. You tilt her chin up, meeting her gaze fully for the first time.
What you see there takes your breath away - it’s a steadfast devotion that silences your doubts. At that moment, you understand that she's not going anywhere.
Your hands finally move, your fingers threading through her hair and letting it fall from its ponytail. The moment you touch her, she lets out a shuddering breath, her body sagging against you as if the weight she’s been carrying has finally become too much.
Sevika sees the hesitation in your gaze, the lingering fear, and something shifts inside her. She surges up, pulling you into a desperate kiss—a plea for you to trust her. The kiss is messy, frantic, filled with the need to feel, to connect, to hold onto something real amidst all this.
You respond immediately, your hands drawing her near—even though parts of you want to stop and shield yourself from the possibility of losing her again, you can’t bring yourself to let go.
Her lips are pressing against yours with a need that makes your heart ache, and you both finally give in to the emotions you’ve been holding back for so long. It’s not like the kiss you’ve shared before—this is different. It’s a commitment to each other that you’ve both been too scared to acknowledge until now.
You both fall back onto the bed, your bodies tangling together as you lose yourselves in each other.
Your hands are never leaving her, your lips never straying too far from hers. Her bionic hand presses into your back gently, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you and you can feel the steady beat of her heart against your chest.
She suddenly pulls you onto her lap. One hand slides under your shirt, causing a shiver to run down your spine, while the other lingers on the small of your back. With a swift movement, she removes your shirt, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable under the moonlight cascading through the window.
A blush creeps up your cheeks at the sudden exposure.
"You're beautiful." The moonlight dances in her eyes and her voice is filled with sincerity and adoration.
Your breath hitches as she leans in and presses a kiss onto your chest, her lips travel lower and lower until she forces a nipple out of your bra. Your gasp quickly turns into a moan as her lips wrap around it and her tongue is swirling, her teeth teasing and biting at the sensitive bud.
Your hands find their way into her hair and shoulders, grasping at something to stabilize a desire that feels like it could push you over the edge. As her lips dance across your neck, her tongue tracing the curve of your jaw, you feel your hips surge forward, seeking the friction that will bring you relief. Your hands, still fisted in her clothes, tug her closer, the fabric straining against the pressure. Sevika's fingers, still tangled in your hair, pull your head back further, exposing your throat to her hungry mouth. Her breath is hot against your skin, sending shivers coursing through your veins. You grind into her fingers, a low, desperate moan builds in your throat, and you hear yourself repeating her name like a mantra.
"Sevika, Sevika, Sevika please."
Your legs tremble as you press into her, the thin fabric of your panties rubbing against her fingers, which are still wrapped around you. The pressure builds, a crescendo of need threatening to consume you whole.
She teases you, her fingers occasionally dipping inside you before pulling back out to rub against your sensitive nub. Each time you’re on the brink of release, she stops and kisses you deeply, driving you crazy with need.
But finally, when you can’t take it any longer, she plunges two fingers inside you. Your fingers dig deep into her shoulder as she sets a steady pace with her fingers, hitting just the right spot inside you that has you writhing in ecstasy.
You’re panting at her touch, your hips bucking into her hand as she moves her fingers in and out of you, her thumb rubbing circles over your clit. Each touch sends jolts of pleasure through your body, making you crave more and more. She whispers sweet words in your ear along with wicked promises that make you wetter than you could imagine.
You grasp the edge of Sevika's shawl, the delicate fabric slipping through your fingers as you slowly pull it away, exposing her bionic arm to you. The shimmering metal catches the dim light of the room, contrasting beautifully with your warm hands. You can’t help but admire the way it seems to glow, each curve and joint blending seamlessly into her skin.
Sevika’s breath hitches at the sight of her exposed arm, and a flicker of vulnerability passes over her face. The vulnerability in her eyes makes you want to show her how incredible she is, and how every part of her makes you feel alive.
You lean closer, your lips brushing softly against her bionic arm, feeling the coolness against your mouth as you press gentle kisses along the sleek surface. It’s smooth, almost soothing, and you feel her relax into your touch. Your breath quickens, merging anticipation and a hunger to worship every part of her.
She changes your positions, laying you down gently on your bed till your head sinks into a plush pillow. You can feel the heat radiating off of her body as she begins to kiss down your body. Her lips leave a trail of fire as they make their way down your stomach until they reach the waistband of your panties. She easily removes them and throws them aside. She starts by lightly kissing and licking your inner thighs, slowly making her way towards your center. You can already feel the heat pooling between your legs as she gets closer and closer to where you want her most. Her gaze locks onto yours as her head hovers over your soaked folds.
“Just focus on me,” her voice comes out hoarse and commanding.
Sevika buries her face between your legs and you gasp at the sudden sensation, gripping the sheets tightly. She flicks and sucks on your clit while slipping a finger inside of you, matching the rhythm of her tongue. There’s a sense of urgency in the way she looks at you – a primal need that mirrors yours perfectly.
Her fingers dig into your thighs, holding you down firmly. You feel yourself getting close, but before you can reach your peak, she stops abruptly.
You whimper in frustration, but it’s quickly replaced with adoration as she climbs up to kiss you, tasting yourself on her lips.
“You got such a pretty body,” She bites teasingly at your ear. “Prettier when it’s a mess for me.”
A course of desire jolts through you at hearing her low and raspy voice whisper those words. Your fingers trace the curve of her shoulder, moving down her arm until you reach her hand. You intertwine your fingers with hers, feeling the coolness of her bionic hand. Sevika blows a hot breath over your glistening mound and you instinctively close your legs around her head.
The room immediately fills with the sound of heavy breathing and the soft, wet noises of skin against skin. Her finger curls inside you, causing your back to arch off the bed in pleasure.
With each thrust and lap of her tongue, she pushes you closer to the edge. You can feel the tension coiling within you—she intensifies her rhythm, sucking and teasing in perfect harmony with your body's responses. The sensations build higher and higher until they finally explode within you.
You release with a loud cry, shuddering in ecstasy as the waves of pleasure wash over you, leaving you breathless and utterly consumed in bliss.
When you finally break apart, it’s only to catch your breath. Your bodies are still tangled together, a sticky, wet mess, but neither of you cares. Sevika holds you tightly, her face buried in the crook of your neck.
The room is bathed in soft, silvery moonlight filtering in through the window. The sounds of your soft breathing fill the space, mingling with the faint rustle of the sheets. Everything feels tender, and fragile, like you’re both holding on to something delicate and precious, something that could shatter with the slightest misstep.
Your fingers trace the scar on Sevika’s cheek, the roughened skin contrasting the softness of her lips. She looks at you, her eyes searching yours as if she’s trying to read the thoughts that you’re too scared to say aloud.
“I don’t want to lose you,” you murmur, your voice trembling with emotion.
“You won’t,” she whispers back, her lips brushing against yours in the softest of kisses.
“Promise me..” Your voice falters, struggling to grasp the idea of not being able to feel her, see her, or touch her like this again. “I don’t know how to exist without you.”
“I’d spend the rest of my days searching,” Sevika replies quietly, her gaze unwavering. “Even just for the chance of seeing you again.”
She cups your face with one hand, her thumb brushing gently over your cheek. “I’ll always find my way back to you.”
You rest your head on her chest, listening to the steady rhythm of her heart, the sound soothing in a way you hadn’t realized you needed. Your fingers trace gentle patterns on her skin and a quiet peace settles over you, a sense of calm that you haven’t felt in what seems like forever.
As you lie there, holding each other in the darkness, the world outside seems to fade into insignificance. You close your eyes, letting yourself finally rest, knowing that she’s here with you, that you’re both in this together. It’s a fragile peace, but it’s yours, and in this moment, it’s more than enough.
⁺˚⋆。°✩
One Year Later…
The kitchen glows in the warm light, sunlight streaming through the window and illuminating the marble countertops. The sweet aroma of cinnamon and vanilla fills the air as you stir a pot of rice pudding on the stove.
Ren bursts into the kitchen, twirling in her new outfit - a pretty blue dress with matching ribbons in her hair. "Look!" she exclaims, eyes shining with excitement.
You smile warmly. "You look beautiful, honey. Are you ready for dinner at Vander's?"
Ren nods enthusiastically. "Can I go over early? Please?"
"Of course," you reply, giving her a quick hug. "I'll see you there in a bit."
You watch her go, a fond smile lingering on your lips. Ren has become such a central part of your life, switching between living with you and Sevika, and some nights, staying over at Vander’s with the rest of your family. Dinners at Vander’s have also become a tradition, starting as a semblance of normality for the kids until you realize that sometimes everyone just needed a family meal too.
You turn back to your work, carefully measuring out the sugar to add to the pudding. You’re so focused on getting everything just right that you don’t notice when Sevika slips into the kitchen. She moves quietly, her steps almost soundless as she approaches the stove. It’s only when you glance up and see her broad back that you realize she’s there, her figure blocking the light from the window.
"Hey, you're home," you start to say, but then you spot the spoon in her mouth. "Sev!" you exclaim. "I'm not done with that!"
Sevika turns, the spoon still between her lips. "Tastes good," she mumbles around it, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
“It’s supposed to taste good when it’s finished,” you retort, gently pushing her away from the stove.
Suddenly, you feel Sevika's arms encircle your waist, her body warm against your back. She nuzzles into your neck, placing a soft kiss just below your ear. "Mmm," she hums, "doesn’t taste as good as you, though."
“Don’t think you can sweet-talk me into letting you try more,” you say, trying to stay focused despite the distraction she’s providing.
She chuckles again, her deep voice rumbling against your back. “Can’t blame a girl for trying.”
You smile, the familiar banter easing you into a comfortable lull. The gentle pressure of her arms around you, the way she’s so casually affectionate now, fills you with warmth.
"Hey, did you bring home any fruit for the pudding?" you ask, turning in Sevika's arms.
You feel her tense slightly, her smile faltering. "We’re having a bit of a dry season," she says, her tone careful.
The words hang heavy in the air. You know the reality - supplies have been tight lately, with produce struggling to grow and the scavenging teams venturing further each time.
Before you can dwell on it further, Sevika leans in to kiss you, clearly trying to change the subject. But as she does, you catch a whiff of something less than pleasant, and you instinctively pull back, wrinkling your nose.
"Babe, you fucking stink," you blurt out.
Sevika's eyes goes wide in shock, then narrows playfully. "Oh, really?" she growls, trying to pull you closer.
You dance out of her grasp.“Go start a bath,” you say between giggles. “I’ll join you in a bit, okay?”
She lets out a noise of disapproval but obeys regardless. “I wasn’t that bad,” she mutters as she turns toward the bathroom.
“Yes, you were,” you call after her, still grinning as you watch her go. “Go on, I’ll be there soon.”
With Sevika finally convinced, you head to your bedroom to grab some towels.
The bedroom has changed over the past year, becoming more of a shared space than it ever was before. Sevika's red shawl drapes over the back of a chair, while your jewelry glitters on the dresser. The wall above the bed is adorned with colorful drawings - Ren's artwork, depicting your entire makeshift family, the sight of it never failing to warm your heart.
It had started casually enough - a few items of clothing left behind after hurried encounters, a toothbrush appearing in the bathroom. You and Sevika were sneaking around, stealing moments together whenever you could.
When you finally told your family about your relationship, they celebrated, of course. It wasn’t a surprise to them—they had seen the way you and Sevika gravitated toward each other, the looks you reserved solely for one another. You found yourself practically living at Sevika's, though neither of you had officially acknowledged the change.
Then came the day you noticed the difference in her dresser. The already sparse drawers had been reorganized, creating a dedicated space just for you. Your scattered belongings were neatly arranged, claiming their place in Sevika's life.
You remember standing there, staring at that drawer, your heart swelling with emotion. It was such a small gesture, but it spoke volumes. Sevika, always more comfortable with actions than words, had found her way of saying "stay".
A small smile forms on your lips at the memory as you close the closet. Gathering the towels, you head towards the sound of running water.
You settle onto the stool beside the bathtub, watching Sevika relax in the warm, soapy water. Her broad shoulders peek out from the bubbles, her head tilted back slightly as she rests, eyes half-closed in contentment. The sight of her—this tough, unbreakable woman— soaking in the bath like she has nowhere else to be, makes you giggle.
"You look adorable."
Sevika cracks one eye open, giving you a playful glare that’s nowhere near as intimidating as she probably hopes it’ll be. "I’m not adorable," she grumbles.
You reach for a washcloth, gently running it over her back. Your fingers work out the knots in her muscles, and you feel her relax under your touch. The bathroom is quiet except for the soft lapping of water and Sevika's contented sighs.
"Don't get me wet, Sev," you warn as she shifts in the tub.
“I thought I always did,” she shoots back with a sly grin, and before you can react, she splashes a handful of water at you.
The warm water hits you square in the chest, soaking your shirt. You let out a small gasp, and Sevika just laughs, clearly pleased with herself.
“Now I’ve got no choice but to join you, huh?” you say, feigning annoyance as you peel off your damp clothes.
Sevika's arms wrap around you as you settle between her legs, your back pressed against her chest. "No funny business," you remind her. "We've got dinner later."
She groans, burying her face in your neck. "Do we have to do that?"
You intertwine your fingers with hers, squeezing gently. "Yes, we all need it. Even you, Miss Grumpy."
Sevika huffs, but doesn't argue further. It's rare to see her act so petulant, and you can't help but find it endearing. You lean back further into her embrace, savoring the warmth of her skin against yours.
A chuckle escapes you as a memory surfaces.
"What's so funny?" Sevika murmurs against your ear.
"I'm thinking about us," you reply, still grinning. "Remember the first time you came to family dinner?"
Sevika groans again, this time in embarrassment. That first dinner had been spectacularly awkward. Sevika, sitting at Vander’s table, towering over everyone, her presence so imposing that no one knew how to break the ice. You could feel the discomfort radiating from the others as they tried and failed to strike up conversation. Sevika, never much of a talker herself, hadn’t made it any easier.
"I thought Caitlyn was going to have an aneurysm trying to make conversation," you laugh.
"She kept asking about the weather," Sevika recalls. "As if we don't all live in the same damn place."
“But my family loves you now.”
Sevika raises an eyebrow. “They’re still nervous around me though.”
“True,” you admit, chuckling. “But now they know you’re not going to kill them if they say the wrong thing. Well, most of them know that, anyway.”
”I like to keep them on their toes.” Sevika smirks, her lips brushing against your neck. “Can’t let them forget who I am.”
You turn in her arms, facing her now. "I don’t think they would be as afraid if they saw you in a bubble bath right now."
She narrows her eyes at you. "I’m still scary."
"Is that so?" you challenge, your faces inches apart.
Instead of answering, Sevika closes the distance between you, capturing your lips in a kiss. You sigh into it, brushing a damp strand of hair behind her ear.
You're nestled against Sevika, the warm water lulling you into a peaceful state when a sharp knock shatters the moment.
"Who the hell..." She's about to call out, likely with some choice words, when a familiar voice filters through the door.
"Sevika? You in there?"
It's Ran. Sevika's expression immediately hardens.
She gives you an apologetic look as she carefully extracts herself from the tub, wrapping a towel around her body. You remain in the bath, straining to hear the muffled conversation. Snippets reach your ears—"Silco... needs to see you... scouts..."
By the time you've dried off and dressed, Sevika is already changed, her face grim. She's heading for the door, and you follow.
Out on the streets, the usual bustle of Zaun seems subdued. Sevika turns to you, her eyes softening slightly.
"It's just a quick meeting," she assures you, though her tone lacks conviction. "I'll be back, okay?"
You look at her, worry evident in your gaze. She must see it because she adds, "Family dinner is still on. I promise."
You watch Sevika disappear down the street, her words echoing in your mind. Despite her assurances, you can't shake the feeling of unease that settles in your chest. Instead of heading home, your feet carry you to a familiar path.
The old target practice area comes into view, untouched since Grayson's passing. The targets are weathered now, the paint faded and peeling. You moved the practice area after... after everything, but this place still holds a piece of history you can’t forget.
You settle onto the worn bench, you could almost hear Grayson's patient voice, the sound of gunfire. Now it's quiet, a ghost of what it used to be.
Lost in thought, you barely notice the approaching footsteps until a shadow falls across you.
"Quite the view from up here, isn't it?"
A man’s voice cuts through your reverie. You look up to see him, his usual sly smile in place.
"Mind if I join you?" He doesn't wait for an answer before settling onto the bench beside you.
“What do you want, Finn?” you ask, your guard instantly up.
“Just wanted a place to admire Zaun,” he replies. "It’s getting a bit crowded down there.”
You remain silent, wary of engaging. Instead, you’re both gazing out over Zaun—The community sprawls below, a patchwork of light and shadow.
"You know," Finn begins, his voice casual, "I used to come up here sometimes, watch Grayson train the new recruits. She had a way about her, didn't she? A real vision for what Zaun could be."
You nod, unsure where he's going with this.
Finn continues, his tone thoughtful. "Things have changed a lot since then. More people, less space. Resources getting tighter." He glances at you sideways. "Makes you wonder what Grayson would think of it all."
There's something in his voice that puts you on edge, a subtle challenge. You choose your words carefully. "Grayson always believed in Zaun's potential."
"Ah, but potential for what?" Finn leans in conspiratorially. "It looks like things are starting to fray at the edges. People are getting restless, hungry. And when that happens… well, who knows what might come next?"
You feel a surge of anger, but you keep it in check, refusing to let him get under your skin. “Zaun’s strong,” you say firmly. “So if you’re trying to stir up trouble, you can take it somewhere else.”
Finn holds up his hands in a placating gesture. "Of course, of course. I'm just thinking about the future, you know? But hey, I'm sure Silco's got it all figured out."
Finn stands, brushing off his pants. "Give my regards to Sevika," he says lightly.
"Tell her... we're all counting on her to keep us safe."
⁺˚⋆。°✩
You and Sevika walk side by side through the bustling streets of Zaun, the rice pudding cradled carefully in Sevika’s arms. As you approach the door, you can already hear the sounds of laughter and chatter from inside. Before you can even step over the threshold, a blur of blue barrels into view.
Just as Powder rounds the corner, she nearly collides with you, her eyes wide as she skids to a halt. “Oops, sorry!” she exclaims, a sheepish grin spreading across her face as she steadies herself. “Sorry, double for last time,” she adds with a knowing look.
It had been a few weeks ago, when Sevika was trying to grow out her hair, a fact she was oddly self-conscious about. You guys were standing in the courtyard, watching as Powder excitedly showed off her new contraption, a slime trap shooter she cobbled together from spare parts.
The demonstration started off well enough, but suddenly a glob of viscous slime shot out wildly, landing with a wet splat right in Sevika's hair.
Powder's enthusiasm instantly turned into fear as she realized what she's done.The look on Sevika’s face had been priceless—a mix of surprise and horror as she reached up to touch the mess clinging to her hair.
“I’m gonna kill that kid,” Sevika grumbled, her voice low and menacing. “My hair looks like shit.”
You’d barely managed to suppress your laughter when it first happened, but now in Vander’s bathroom you couldn’t hide your amusement.
“So, that’s a no on having kids, then?” you joked as you reached for a pair of scissors to help trim the slime-covered strands.
Sevika had turned to look at you, her expression one of shock and something else—something deeper that neither of you had wanted to confront. It was just a small joke, but it carried the weight of a conversation you hadn’t yet had, and might never have. Sometimes, you couldn’t avoid the fact that this was it for you two.
But you quickly brushed it aside, focusing on the task at hand. As you carefully trimmed the damaged hair, you leaned in close, whispering in Sevika’s ear, “You’re sexy already. No amount of slime will change that.”
That had earned you a reluctant smile from her in that moment.
"No harm done.” You tell Powder, inconspicuously kicking Sevika’s feet to agree.
“Yeah.” She grunts, and you hold in a snicker at the obvious grudge she held.
As you enter the kitchen, you're greeted by the sight of Vander attempting to wrangle a massive pot of stew.
“There you two are,” Vander says, looking up from his cooking. “Thought you might’ve gotten lost on the way here.”
“Not a chance,” Sevika replies, setting the rice pudding down on the counter with a grin. “This one would never forgive me if I missed dinner.”
“Damn right,” you reply. “You need any help, Vander?”
“Nah, we’re about done here,” Vander says, wiping his hands on a towel. “Just need to get everything into the living room. You know how these animals are when they’re hungry.”
You laugh, grabbing a tray of bread rolls while Sevika grabs a platter of roasted vegetables. She follows you out into the living room, where the rest of the group is already making themselves comfortable. Ekko is lounging on the floor, watching Powder and Ren as they buzz around him. Caitlyn and Vi are chatting quietly in one corner, Vi’s arm casually draped over the back of Caitlyn’s chair.
“Hey you two,” you greet, setting the tray down on a table near the center of the room. “Food’s here.”
Vi reaches for a roll, and Caitlyn swats her hand. "Wait for everyone, you brute," she says affectionately.
"Come on, cupcake, I'm starving!" Vi whines dramatically.
Soon, everyone settles in various spots around the room, grabbing plates and piling on food. Vander passes around mugs of ale, the rich, amber liquid sloshing slightly as he hands it to the adults.
Sevika sits down beside you on the floor, her back against the couch, and you hand her a plate, watching as she loads it up with a bit of everything. Powder's regaling everyone with a tale of her latest explosive experiment, complete with dramatic reenactments.
"You guys won't believe what I made today!" She exclaims, barely touching her food as she launches into her story. "So I took some wires from that old TV we found, and I connected them to a car battery. Then I rigged up this pressure plate..."
"And then - BOOM!" she exclaims, throwing her arms wide and nearly knocking over Ekko's plate.
"Watch it, Pow," Ekko grumbles, but there's no real annoyance in his voice.
The two of you eat in comfortable silence for a while, the sounds of laughter and conversation filling the room around you. As the meal winds down, Powder's eyes light up with a new idea. She bounds over to you and Sevika.
"Hey, hey! You guys wanna play Nerf guns with us?" she asks, her eyes wide and pleading.
Sevika raises an eyebrow.
"I modified them. They shoot further now, and I added a cool light-up feature, and-"
"Modified?" Sevika interrupts, looking slightly alarmed, she was already thinking about the last mishap with Powder’s “modifications”.
You laugh at the expression on Sevika's face, she couldn’t hide the suspicion and concern written all over it. "Come on, Sev," you nudge. "Could be fun."
Powder's practically bouncing now. "Please? Pretty please? I promise there’s no slime this time!"
Sevika sighs. "Fine." she concedes.
"Yes!" Powder cheers. "You won't regret it!"
Powder herds you, Sevika, Ekko, and Ren onto the couch, squishing you all together as she stands before you, eyes gleaming with excitement.
“Alright, listen up!” Powder announces, pulling out a set of nerf guns. The colorful plastic weapons are covered in stickers and doodles, clearly customized to her liking. She hands one to each of you.
Sevika takes hers with a skeptical look, turning it over in her hands. “You can’t shoot shit with this,” she mutters, the derision clear in her voice.
“Oh, yeah?” Powder smirks, clearly prepared for this. She whirls around, aims at a water bottle perched on the windowsill, and fires. The nerf dart flies across the room and smacks the bottle dead center, sending it tumbling to the floor with a satisfying thud.
Sevika raises an eyebrow, impressed despite herself.
“Now that we’ve established these aren’t toys for babies,” Powder continues, pacing in front of the couch. “here’s the game: upstairs, there’s a crown stashed somewhere by Vi. The goal is to retrieve the crown and bring it to Vander downstairs. Upstairs is a no-shoot zone, but downstairs, if you’re hit with a dart, you’re out.”
She claps her hands together, clearly relishing her role as the game master. "Now, we need to split into teams," Powder continues. "Sevika and Ekko, you're one team. And-"
You all glance at Ren, the youngest of the group at just eight years old. There's a moment of awkward silence as everyone tries to figure out how to handle this diplomatically.
"You should take her," you say sweetly.
Sevika’s eyes narrow playfully, already sensing where this is going. “The kid likes you more." Despite being dubious of the game at first, you could tell Sevika’s competitiveness was taking over.
“I thought this was just a kids’ game?” you tease, leaning in slightly with a raised eyebrow.
Sevika gives you a sheepish look, clearly caught between her competitive streak and her soft spot for Ren.
Feeling a bit guilty, you suggest, "Why don't we let Ren pick?"
Ren beams up at both of you, clearly delighted to have the choice. "I wanna be on your team!" she exclaims, pointing at you and Powder.
“You’re gonna be our secret weapon,” you whisper, wrapping an arm around Ren’s shoulders.
“Alright then,” Ekko chimes in, finally managing to free himself from the couch. “Let’s do this.”
Everyone grabs their nerf guns and heads outside. You can't help but chuckle at the sight of Sevika, usually so intimidating, clutching a bright orange plastic gun with a determined look on her face.
"Alright, teams start at opposite ends of the house," Powder instructs. "When I give the signal, the hunt begins!"
You crouch behind a bush with Powder and Ren, all of you trying (and failing) to look serious with your toy weapons.
"Ready?" Powder calls out. "Set... GO!"
And with that, you all come barreling into the house. Powder darts ahead, her movements quick and erratic. You follow, trying to keep an eye on Ren while scanning for potential ambush spots.
As you round a corner, you come face to face with Sevika. For a moment, you both freeze, nerf guns pointed at each other.
"Sorry, babe," you say, not sorry at all as you pull the trigger.
But Sevika's reflexes are faster. She ducks, the foam dart whizzing over her head, and returns fire. You barely dodge, and you take the moment to sneak onto the stairs.
Upstairs, you quickly begin your search, darting in and out of rooms, peeking under beds and behind curtains for any sign of the hidden crown. Ren’s small size gives her an advantage as she slips into tight spots that you and Powder can’t quite reach.
But despite your efforts, it was nowhere to be found. "How?" you mutter, bewildered.
Powder's eyes narrow, scanning the area. "Ekko," she hisses, pointing to an open window. "He must've climbed up from outside!"
Quickly, you formulate a plan. Ren is dispatched to keep watch with Vander, ensuring Ekko can't make a sneaky victory while you and Powder hunt down Sevika and Ekko.
With that, you guys head back downstairs, moving quietly as you scan the house for any signs of the other team. As you move through the house, you and Powder eventually decide to split up, hoping to cover more ground.
It doesn’t take long before you spot Sevika, her broad frame moving stealthily through the hallway. She hasn’t seen you yet, and you quickly close the distance, pressing yourself against the wall to remain hidden. When she finally turns the corner, you’re right there, catching her off guard.
“Drop the gun,” you command, your voice low and teasing as you pin her against the wall, your body pressing into hers. Sevika’s eyes widen in surprise, her hands instinctively going up in mock surrender, though there’s a glint of amusement in her gaze.
“And what if I don’t?” she murmurs, her lips quirking into a playful smile.
“Then I’ll have to make you,” you reply, your tone equally flirtatious as you lean in closer, the game momentarily forgotten.
"Ewww, get a room!" Ekko's voice breaks the spell. You spin around to find Ekko aiming at you, the crown tucked under his arm.
But before you can react, Powder emerges from a doorway behind Ekko, her nerf gun raised and ready. Without missing a beat, she fires a dart that hits Ekko square in the back. “Gotcha!” she shouts triumphantly.
Ekko’s eyes widen in shock as he instinctively drops the crown, clutching his back where the dart hit. “Hey, what the fuck, Powder?!” he exclaims, his tone incredulous.
“Language, Ekko!” Vander’s voice booms from the kitchen, echoing through the house.
Taking advantage of the distraction, Sevika quickly knocks the nerf gun out of your hand. But before she can fully capitalize on her victory, you kick the crown down the hallway, sending it skittering toward the kitchen.
“Move kid!” Sevika barks as she grabs Ekko by the arm, dragging him behind a couch. Ekko, still nursing his mock wound, yells out dramatically, “Man down! Man down!”
There's a moment of tense silence, then Ekko's voice pipes up again. "I'm getting healed by a health kit!"
“What the hell?” Powder says with a look of utter disbelief. “There’s no health kit in this game!”
"Yeah, 'cause I took it!" Ekko retorts, popping up from behind the couch and unleashing a barrage of foam darts.
The living room erupts into chaos. You dive behind an armchair, Powder taking cover behind another couch. Foam darts fly in every direction, peppering the air with colorful streaks.
You peek out, catching Sevika's eye across the room. She winks at you before ducking to avoid a well-aimed shot from Powder.
"Cover me!" you shout to Powder, making a dash for the hallway where the crown disappeared.
Ekko leaps over the couch, trying to intercept you. "Oh no, you don't!" he yells, unleashing a volley of darts in your direction.
You slide across the hardwood floor, narrowly avoiding his attack. Sevika provides covering fire for Ekko, keeping Powder pinned down.
As you scramble to your feet at the kitchen entrance, ready to grab the crown and make a triumphant dash to Vander, you freeze. The crown is gone.
A throat clears behind you. You turn to see Vander, sitting calmly at the kitchen table. Beside him stands Ren, a victorious grin on her face and the crown placed neatly on Vander's head.
The chaos in the living room dies down as everyone realizes what's happened. Ren's giggles fill the sudden silence.
"I believe," Vander says, his eyes twinkling with amusement, "that we have a winner."
For a moment, you're all too stunned to speak. Then Powder bursts out laughing, followed quickly by Ekko. Soon, you're all in stitches, the absurdity of the situation hitting you all at once.
As you catch your breath, you feel Sevika's arm wrap around your waist. "Can’t believe we were outsmarted by an eight-year-old," she murmurs in your ear.
You lean into her, watching as Vander lifts Ren onto his shoulders, parading her around the kitchen as the victor. Ekko and Powder are already arguing about a rematch and new teammates for next time.
As the excitement of the game winds down, Vander glances at the clock. "It's getting late."
You nod in agreement, glancing over at Ren. “Do you want to stay at Powder’s or with us tonight?”
Ren's eyes light up. "Stay with Powder!" she exclaims without hesitation.
Before you can even respond, Powder and Ekko are already shepherding Ren up the stairs, their voices a jumble of excited plans for a sleepover.
Caitlyn and Vi exchange a knowing look. "Ooh, you two are finally getting some alone time," Vi teases with a wink.
You feel your cheeks flush with embarrassment, but Sevika seems unfazed.
"So, how are those new recruits doing on the walls? Getting the hang of things?" You ask, trying to get the attention off you.
Caitlyn's face does a complicated dance between diplomacy and honesty. "Well, they're... enthusiastic."
Vi snorts, unable to contain herself. "Come on, cupcake. Tell 'em the truth."
Caitlyn's facade cracks. "Alright, fine. Their aim is absolutely atrocious. I've never seen so many missed targets in my life. We had one recruit who managed to shoot his own hat off."
You all burst out laughing, the mental image too ridiculous to resist.
Vander shakes his head. "Everyday I’m thankful that’s not me, I'm getting too old for that kind of headache."
Sevika raises an eyebrow at him. "Not too old to keep experimenting with your homebrews though, are you?"
You all laugh at that. It's true - besides overseeing the community's agriculture, Vander's taken to crafting various meads and ales in his spare time.
"I'll have you know that my brewing skills only improve with age, unlike my patience," Vander puffs up his chest in mock indignation. “And I'm taking back the ale from tonight, can't have you lot disparaging my other talents.”
Vi grins. "C'mon, Vander. You know the community needs that alcohol. How else are we supposed to cope with Powder's 'experiments'?"
This sets off another round of laughter, but your conversation is suddenly interrupted when Ren comes downstairs, looking shy and hesitant.
"What's wrong, sweetie?"
Sevika seems to understand before you do, her voice softening as she reaches out to Ren. “Come on, kid. Let’s get you tucked in.”
The three of you make your way upstairs, the house now quiet as the night settles in. Ren leads you to the bedroom she’s sharing with Powder and Ekko.
Sevika moves to the bed, pulling back the covers and helping Ren climb in. Ren looks up at you both, her eyes wide and a little sad, as Sevika tucks the blankets around her snugly. “Can you get it?” Ren asks quietly.
You follow her gaze to the small play tent in the corner of the room, where she likes to spend her time during the day. You walk over, crouching down to peer inside, and that’s when you see it—peeking out from under a pile of toys. Your breath hitches as you recognize it instantly: Grayson’s yellow armband.
You carefully pull it out, the fabric worn but still vibrant, and bring it over to Ren. She takes it from you, her small hands wrapping around the band as if it’s the most precious thing in the world. “I miss her,” she whispers.
Your heart breaks at the sight of her holding onto that small piece of Grayson. You kneel beside the bed, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “I know, honey,” you say softly. “We all miss her. But she’s always with us, in here.” You gently place a hand over Ren’s heart, offering her a comforting smile.
Ren nods and she clutches the armband tightly, her grip strong for someone so small. Sevika’s expression is unreadable, a mix of emotions flashing across her face as she watches the scene unfold.
After a few moments, Ren’s eyelids start to droop, exhaustion finally taking over. You lean down, pressing a gentle kiss to Ren’s forehead. “Goodnight sweetie,” you whisper.
You and Sevika quietly bid Ekko and Powder goodnight as well, sharing a few last words before heading back downstairs. The house is much quieter now, the energy from earlier having dissipated into a peaceful calm. You say your goodbyes to Vander, Caitlyn, and Vi, thanking them for the evening.
As you step out into the cool night air, the streets of Zaun are mostly quiet. Sevika’s hand finds yours, her grip warm and comforting. “You okay?” she asks.
You nod, though your mind is still on Ren and the armband. “Yeah,” you say softly, squeezing her hand. “It’s just… it’s hard sometimes, you know? Seeing how much she misses Grayson.”
Sevika doesn’t respond right away, but you feel her thumb brushing gently over your knuckles, a silent gesture of understanding. “She’s a tough kid,” she finally says. “She’s more resilient than we think.”
You wordlessly agree, falling into a comfortable silence as you guys listen to the hum of the surrounding houses and your footsteps on the pavement. For a while, neither of you speak, simply enjoying the quiet together.
You find yourself stealing glances at Sevika, admiring her profile in the dim light. She catches you looking and raises an eyebrow, a small smirk playing at the corner of her lips. You playfully bump your shoulder against hers, and she returns the gesture, a bit harder.
You smile, a soft chuckle escaping your lips as you bump her again, just to see what she’ll do.
Sevika doesn’t say anything, but you can see the corner of her mouth twitching upward, that almost-smile that she gets when she’s trying to keep her cool but failing just a bit. She bumps you back, a little more firmly this time, and you laugh, the sound light and carefree in the stillness of the night.
You nudge her again, and this time, she stops walking altogether. Before you can react, she grabs your hand, pulling you toward her with a gentle but firm tug. The sudden movement catches you off guard, and you stumble slightly, your hands instinctively reaching out to steady yourself.
But Sevika’s already there, her strong arms wrapping around you, holding you close. There’s a brief moment where you just look at each other, the playful teasing of earlier fading into something softer, more intimate. The distance between you disappears, and you feel the warmth of her body against yours, the steady rise and fall of her chest as she breathes.
She doesn’t say anything—doesn’t need to. The look in her eyes, the way she’s holding you, it says it all.
Without a word, she leans down, her lips brushing against yours in a kiss. It’s sweet and gentle, and it fills you with a warmth that spreads through your chest, making you feel like you could stay here forever, wrapped up in this simple, perfect moment.
You melt into the kiss, your hand sliding from her shoulder to the nape of her neck.
When she finally pulls back, it’s only by a fraction, her forehead resting against yours as she breathes out a soft sigh. You can't resist leaning in to place another quick kiss on her lips, delighting in the way it makes her smile.
"What was that for?" you ask softly, not that you're complaining.
"Do I need a reason?" she asks, her voice husky but tender.
You shake your head, smiling. "Definitely not. Feel free to do that anytime."
She chuckles softly, pulling you close as you resume your walk home. Her arm wraps securely around your waist, and you lean into her, feeling safe and cherished.
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You're Mine (Eris Vanserra x Reader)
Summary// After leaving Eris behind to fulfill your parents' desire for marriage, knowing the two of you could never be, you did your best to move on. It had been five years, and you were finally starting to settle into your life with your husband when a late-night visitor brought back feelings you thought you had long since buried.
(This idea has burrowed its way into my head and won’t leave anytime soon, so I’m dragging you all into this with me. I hope you like it <3 It's been awhile since I've wrote anything so if you have any critiques or opinions, please let me know!)
WARNINGS: Smut, Fertility Issues, Verbal Abuse (Spouse), Physical Abuse (Spouse) (A slap but nothing more), Possessive!Eris, Jealous!Eris, Cheating, Breeding Kink, Spanking
Five Years Ago
“Mother, please!” You beg, tears streaking down your hot cheeks as she gives you a look full of pity. It was a useless cause to try to convince your father against this arrangement, but your mother… she used to be a dreamer like you. She once thought of running away with a prince, of living happily ever after, so why wouldn’t she give you the same chance?
“Darling, please, collect yourself.” She urges, grabbing your hands and pulling you towards her. “Pierre will be here any moment with his family. They cannot see you like this.”
“They don’t have to! You could sneak me out the back, let me run away with-” You begin only to flinch when she grabs your face roughly, her eyes shining with a strange mixture of anger and agony.
“With you, Y/N? With Eris?” She hisses, eyebrows furrowing together. “He is the heir to the Court. He will never choose you. He cannot. He will go with whichever maiden secures more political power, and that is not you.”
Your lower lip trembles as her words cut through you like hot steel. They settle in your soul, trying to burn out any hope you might have, and yet you persist.
“No, Mother, you don’t understand. I love him. He loves me. We’ve been courting for months, dancing together and strolling through the gardens. Hells, he gave me this!” You gesture to the ruby necklace resting above your collarbone, wrapped in a gold band that resembles a fox’s tail. “Everyone has seen us together. His family, my family, does that mean nothing?”
She stares at you for a moment, her mouth turning downwards as her fury fades into sorrow. You swallow, trying to get the lump in your throat to disappear as the silence stretches on, but it refuses.
“My darling girl,” She coos, her hands now cupping your cheeks. “One’s first love is something special, an experience worth remembering, but it is one that is never meant to last. He has his duties, as do you. It was never meant to be.”
The realization of the situation hits you in waves of denial, anger, and agony. It makes your head swim, and your stomach lurch as you try desperately to find anything to keep you afloat.
“What if he does choose me, though? What if his parents see me as he does? Someone who makes him smile and laugh, who treats him well. If you could just let me speak with him one more time, keep Pierre and his father busy, I only need an hour.” You try to bargain with her, placing your hands over her own. She goes to respond, your hope hanging by a thread, only for your father’s voice to rise above the two of you.
“He has moved on, Y/N.” He sighs, clearly exasperated by your antics. “Beron has told us about Eris’s betrothed. It’s been arranged since birth. It is time for you to do the same.”
“But if he knew, why would he fall in love with me? I know what I saw, I know what I felt.” You press, wrapping your arms around yourself as your father’s jaw clenches. “He wouldn’t do that to me.”
“You don’t think he would?” His scowl deepens as he glances at your mother over your shoulder before fishing for something in his coat pocket, ignoring his wife as she begins to protest. “Read this.”
“What is it?” You ask.
“Just read it.” He pushes the parchment into your hand, rolling his eyes.
Your fingers tremble as you glance at the letter, noticing Eris’s penmanship immediately. The words seem to blur together towards the end, but you realize it isn’t due to his writing but your tears. One of them splashes on the paper, staining it immediately as his voice echoes in your mind.
I regret to inform you of the ending of our courtship, effective immediately. Please know this is through not fault of your own. You were a wonderful experience. I should not have led you on, but I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me. Even though I am the least deserving of it.
Yours,
Eris Vanserra
A loud sound echoed off the walls, and it wasn’t until your knees hit the floor that you realized it had come from you. You felt the world collapsing in, your dreams fading with each heartbeat as your worst fear came true. Your parents watched, one with sympathy and one with indifference, as you came to grips with reality.
The silence after was choking you as the paper lay taunting you, his signature ingrained in your brain as a loud knock was heard from the front. Soft hands gingerly picked you up as your father’s footsteps led to the door, his voice booming as he greeted Pierre.
“Come now, Y/N,” She shushes you, brushing your tears away with a mother’s softness. “I know it hurts, but in time, it will fade, and you will find happiness with Pierre and your future family.”
“I cannot imagine feeling anything other than this, Mama.” You murmur, numbness starting to spread throughout your body as she smiles sadly and kisses your forehead.
“You will, sweet girl.” She assures you, pinching your cheeks to bring some color back as Pierre draws closer.
“How do you know?” Your gaze raises to meet hers, searching.
She chuckles, though you know it is without humor, watching as she seems to drift far away for a moment before the sounds of your father's throat clearing behind you brings her back.
Her arms pull you into a tight hug as she whispers into your ear, “Because I did.”
Present Day
From your wedding day to now, you have been desperately searching for the happiness your mom said would come. You threw everything into your relationship, forcing Eris into the darkest crevices of your heart so that you could move on. Pierre wasn’t an awful man. He was kind and generous, always concerned about your feelings and ensuring you were cared for.
He knew about your past with Eris and never pushed you but soothed you like a balm to your soul. Your love for Pierre was different, but it was there; you just needed something more. However, you knew better than to dream of it. You could be happy with him, will be happy with him.
Eris had made it very clear that he did not intend to return for you. He hadn’t even had the courage to come to your wedding nor send you any well wishes. You had seen him since, of course, but he always did his best to avoid you. If you did happen to catch his gaze during a dinner or ball, his eyes were always full of anger.
It was in your best interest to forget all about him.
You were torn from your thoughts as the front door opened, your husband poking his head around to look for you. A soft smile pulls at your lips effortlessly, rising up to greet him, only to stall when you see how angry he is.
“Pierre, what is it?” You ask, forehead creasing as he all but slams a letter he had been holding onto the dining table.
“The new high lord,” He scowls, jaw clenching. “He is asking myself and the other merchants to travel across Prythian to secure new deals or else forfeit our titles.”
New high lord?
“Beron is dead?” You whisper, grasping the edge of the table. “How did he…who did…was it…?”
“Eris, yes, the treasonous snake,” Pierre grunts, raising his eyes to you. “It apparently happened overnight, and he is already throwing everything out. I knew he was a bastard, but to-”
“He is not a bastard,” You say before you can catch yourself, your mind screaming at you for rushing to his defense. You owe him nothing—no loyalty, no love, nothing. So why did you speak?
The air in the room seemed to change as he cocks his head, his eyes darkening dangerously. You feel the hairs on your neck raise as you step back, trying to put distance between you. However, Pierre doesn’t hesitate to follow you as the letter is now crumpled in his fist.
“I knew it.” He snaps, nostrils flaring as he grabs your arm and yanks you to him. You let out a small yelp, trying to push against him, but he doesn’t yield. “I’ve given you everything you could ever want. I’ve built you this home, this life when I could’ve treated you like filth.”
“Pierre, please, let go,” Your voice is a whimper as his grasp tightens. “You’re hurting me.”
“Me? Hurting you?” His laugh echoes off the walls, one of his hands running hastily through his hair. “Don’t act like you don’t deserve it. I’ve put up with this teenage moping for five fucking years. I’ve played the part of the gentleman, the family man, and you still can’t get over him. Pathetic doesn’t even begin to cover what you are.”
Tears fall down your face as you sob, finally gaining the strength to rip your arm away as he turns and punches a hole into the wall beside him. You cannot stop yourself from trembling as his shoulders shake with fury, his breath coming in short pants.
“Do you know what they all tell me? Our friends and family?” Pierre asks, closing his eyes. “They tell me how sorry they are for me. How much they pity me. They’ve even suggested taking a whore on the side, so at least that way I could secure an heir.”
The last sentence strikes deep, one of your hands resting on your lower stomach as he gives you a mocking laugh. You had been trying to have a child for a while now. Under the care of a midwife, you had been drinking the teas, reducing your stress, and month after month, you failed. Pierre had been there for you throughout it, promising you that it was not your fault, and for him now to throw it back in your face…it made you sick.
“Y-you told me that it was okay, that these things take time. Going into this marriage, you knew what I had been through and who my former lover was, and you said it was fine.” You hate how your voice trembles as you keep your eyes on the floor. “I thought you understood me, that you could see I was finally starting to heal, but was it all a lie? Have I been sleeping next to someone who I do not know?”
He watches you momentarily, taking in how meek you look and the tears that now stain your face. Footsteps fill the silence and stop once you see his feet, a soft hand coming to cup your chin and force you to look up.
Pierre was there in body but not in mind. The eyes that once held so much comfort were now empty, the smile now a scowl, and his touch burning rather than soothing. He turned your face from side to side, mesmerizing your beauty before smirking.
“I guess that’s two men who’ve used you now, huh?”
You don’t register the slap you gave him until you see his pupils dilate, your eyes widening in fear as your palm begins to burn from the contact. He snarls at you, and before you can apologize or scream, you aren’t sure which one, he backhands you and sends you spiraling to the floor.
“I’ll be back in the morning, don’t wait up.” He calls over his shoulder, straightening his jacket before he walks out the door without even a glance at your crumpled body.
It takes longer than you’d like to admit to collect yourself off the floor, your face red-hot even though you know you have already healed. He hit you. He yelled at you, belittled you, and then slapped you as if it were nothing. A wolf in sheep's clothing.
Your hands dig into the wood of the table as you pull yourself up, hating how weak you feel as you cry. This wouldn't have happened if you had kept your mouth shut. Why did you even say anything? After all this time, why did you feel you still needed to speak up for the man who deserted you?
“Fuck!” You scream as your sadness turns to rage, grabbing a nearby vase and hurling it at the wall. It instantly shatters and clatters to the floor, flower petals scattering everywhere with the glass shards.
It doesn’t make you feel better. So you throw another vase and another, and then a portrait until the room looks like a tornado ripped through it. But nothing is working to fill the hole in your chest that was just violently ripped open once again.
A clock nearby chimes out twelve times, and you blink as you realize how much time has passed. Your adrenaline leaves your body quickly as exhaustion takes place, and your eyes glare at the front door one last time before you start heading up the stairs.
However, as your foot hits the first step, a loud knocking startles you. At first, you think it’s Pierre, drunk and probably without a key, but then you hear a voice. A voice that has haunted your dreams for five years.
“Y/N? Y/N, open the door. I know you are in there.”
It can’t be…
You tiptoe to the door, your heart racing as you stare down at the knob. What should you do? Why was he here? What did he want? Should you even let him in? The consequences could be deadly, especially after what he had done just last night to his own father, but your heart was winning over your head right now.
“Please, my love, let me in.”
Your hand grasps the knob and turns it before you can stop yourself, the door opening to reveal Eris.
He looks the same, damn him. His red hair was tied back in a half-up style, the rest falling over his slender shoulders covered in a thick, dark green coat. Eris’s eyes, the color of molten amber, met yours with a ferocity that made your breath catch. Your stomach fills with butterflies as the night air caresses your skin, whispering long-forgotten memories that send your heart fluttering.
“Eris…” you whisper, your voice tight with emotion. Whatever spell had taken over the two of you broke as you said his name. His hands came up to grasp your face as he pulled you in and kissed you, lips molding to yours as if they had never told you goodbye.
And, cauldron help you, you kiss him back just as fiercely. You had thought about seeing him again more often than you care to admit, about how you would scream at him for what he did to you or prove to him you were better off without him. But once again, your heart craves what your mind desperately tries to discard.
It’s only when your back hits the wall of the foyer that you pull away, gasping for air as you shove him back. He blinks, dumbfounded, and goes for you again, but you shake your head and slap his hands away, gaze hot as years of resentment flood your veins.
“How dare you come into my home and kiss me like that after all you did.” You seethe, teeth clenching as he regards you like a caged predator. “You can’t just show up and do that! You can’t come in here and ruin my marriage, my life like you have any ownership of me.”
“I don’t think I was the one to ruin your marriage, little fox.” Eris replies smoothly, standing straight and giving a pointed look behind you to the mess of a dining room.
“Don’t call me that.” You snarl, wrapping your arms around your body for comfort. “You need to leave. Now.”
“I won’t,” He states, looking you over. “I’ve defeated my father. I’m rebuilding the court and our reputation, gutting it from the inside out. I’m here to collect the last thing I need.”
Your brain goes fuzzy as he stretches out his hand, waiting for you to fall into his arms as if the past were not there. As if his letter and necklace weren’t still tucked away in a drawer by your bed. No matter how badly you missed and yearned for him, you couldn’t forgive him that easily.
“You led me on for years,” You say softly, your voice numb as you take another step back. “You courted me as if you cared. You made me believe we were real, that we would be together forever. Do you think I could just forgive and forget that after you left me with only a letter for an explanation?”
“I thought you were smarter than that.” Eris sighs and clenches his jaw, running a hand down his face as he closes the front door.
“Excuse me? Get the-”
“I didn’t write that letter, Y/N.” He interrupts you, coming to stand in front of you in just two short steps. “My father forced me. And yours, for that matter. I would never let you go. It was only under threat of your own harm that I chose to obey, but I swore to myself that as soon as I took control, I would come find you.”
The angry retort you had building dies in your throat, your head tilting to the side as if you hadn’t heard him correctly.
“You…you didn’t mean what you wrote?” Your voice has a hint of hope, like the last spark of a fire, but you can’t help it. If he was telling the truth, and you still weren’t entirely convinced he was, it meant he had been waiting for you all these years.
He grabs your face again, but it’s soft and caring this time, his thumb brushing across your cheek and collecting a tear you didn’t know had escaped. You look into his eyes, finding nothing but honesty, which only worsens it.
“It hurt that you think I would treat you that way, that I could just throw everything we had away…” Eris whispers, tilting your chin up so you can’t look away. “I’m not your husband. I take care of what is mine. Forever. ”
The mention of him makes you wince and somewhat come back to your senses, glancing towards the clock and realizing he could be back at any moment. If he caught you with Eris, there would be no telling what he would do. Eris could take care of himself; he was a High Lord now after all, but you were vulnerable.
“Pierre…he could be home any minute. Eris, you can’t be here. You need to leave.” You frown, trying to move past him, only to gasp when his hand moves down to your neck and stills you. The hold isn’t tight, but you freeze, wide eyes looking up at him in worry. “Eris, if he finds you here with me-”
“Did you not hear what I said, little fox?” He asks mockingly, bowing his head so his lips can brush against your ear. “I take care of what is mine. And you are mine.”
Eris accentuates his words with a roll of his hips, his half-hard cock pressing against your lower half teasingly. You don’t stop the whimper that sneaks past your lips or the way your neck turns so he can mouth over your pulse point.
“I’ve waited years for this moment, to see you again and take you home. I’ve watched as that pathetic excuse for a man dotes on you and brags about how pretty you sound in bed.” He growls, grabbing your hips and lifting you up effortlessly as you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist. “The only thing that kept me sane was knowing you weren’t moaning from him like you did for me, that he can’t fill you up like your needy little pussy begs for.”
“Please…” You whine, though you aren’t entirely sure what you are asking for. His touch was like fire against your cool skin, setting you aflame in a way you hadn’t felt in years.
One of his hands snakes between the two of you and quickly finds your panties, his lips curling back as he feels the heat of your cunt. You swear you hear him purr as he begins to furiously bite and suck on your neck and collarbone, marking you.
“Tell me what you need.” Eris commands, pulling back to look into your eyes.
Words fail you momentarily as you stare at each other, your heart threatening to explode as he refuses to drop his gaze. There were so many consequences to this decision, no matter what you choose, and so many things that need to be said before you can logically proceed.
But when the pad of his thumb presses against your clit and circles it slowly, the corner of his mouth tilting up to smirk, you know logic will not win tonight.
“You, Eris,” You moan, trying to press further onto his hand for more friction. “You’re all I’ve ever needed.”
You don’t have time to scream as he squeezes you tightly and carries you up the stairs, your body bouncing so that your lower half hits his cock with each step. He groans and looks around momentarily before kicking open your bedroom door. He then throws you onto the bed and starts to undo his belt, all while keeping those burning amber eyes on you.
“Strip. Now.” He orders, voice raspy as you hastily follow his instructions, your fingers fumbling with the laces of your corset. Eris is already naked by the time you have it halfway undone, his pale skin glowing in the moonlight as he stalks over to you and grabs both sides of your top.
“I hope you weren’t too fond of this.” Eris hums, giving no warning as he rips it in two. You shiver as the cool air licks at your skin, your nipples pebbling while he licks his lips in anticipation. “I always thought you looked better bare anyways.”
Heat runs down your body at the comment, your thighs clenching, immediately catching his eye. You try to rise up on your knees to kiss him, but he is quick to pin you down, straddling your waist as his cock rests heavily over your cunt.
“Let me touch you, please,” You don’t even recognize your own voice as you beg for him. It had been so long since you had felt this needy for someone. “I need something, anything, just please!”
Before you can babble anymore, his lips collide with yours, claiming you possessively as two of his fingers prod at your soaking pussy. He bites down on your bottom lip, and at the same time, he shoves his fingers inside, giving you no prep as he swallows your cries.
“I know, baby, I know,” He coos into your ear, moving to nibble on your earlobe. “We can make love next time, but right now, right now I need to fuck your pretty little brain out to make up for lost time.”
Your back arches as he curls his fingers, finding your spot with ease and teasing you as he kisses down your neck and to your breasts. He sucks your left nipple into his mouth, capturing it between his teeth and tugging until you moan. His cock is leaking against your thigh as he ruts against you.
Rough sex wasn’t new to you, though it had been a while. Pierre was always gentle, taking his time, and while Eris had his moments, he was quite fond of making you beg. However, when fantasizing about this, you always imagine Eris cherishing the moment. This was raw and feral.
“Eris, I’m c-close…” You groan, rolling your hips so he can get even deeper. Your walls flutter around his thick fingers, squeezing them, but right before you can fall over the edge, he pulls them out roughly. “No!”
“The only way you are cumming tonight is around this cock.” He grunts, flipping you over so that you are lying on your stomach before dragging your hips up. Both of his hands squeeze your ass before he lines himself up to your hole, rubbing his length up and down to coat himself in your slick.
“Ohhh fuck…” You moan as the head catches on your clit, your entire cunt throbbing in anticipation. “Fuck me.”
“Not yet, little fox. I want you to tell me how badly you want it.” Eris says lowly, grasping his cock and barely pressing into you before pulling away. “Tell me how much you missed me, how much you thought about me while your husband fucked you in this bed.”
Your nails dig so hard into the mattress you are sure you’ll rip it as you screw your eyes shut, already so sensitive from his teasing. It felt so wrong to speak the thoughts you have been burying for so long, to admit that you never got over the High Lord behind you.
All of your inhibitions get thrown out the window, though, as he lands a harsh smack on your ass, his fingers pinching your clit in annoyance.
“Don’t pretend like you haven’t thought about this, about me, Y/N. That whenever your husband would roll over at night after a mediocre fuck you wouldn’t rub that needy clit while wishing it was me.” He hisses, one of his hands grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking until your neck is craned up. “Give yourself to me, let it go.”
“Yes, okay, yes, I haven’t stopped thinking about you!” You sob, every nerve in your body on edge as he grins in approval. “Every time I had sex, every night in the bath, I couldn’t stop picturing your hands. Your chest. Your cock.”
Eris rewards your confession with what you had been craving, thrusting his entire length in one fluid movement as your pussy burns from the stretch.
“More. Give me more.” He demands, pulling almost all the way out before snapping his hips forward.
“I-” You swallow, your mind starting to fuzz with the ecstasy of having him back inside you. “I would close my eyes and pretend it was you. I wanted it to be you. He could never compare to you, could never make me feel this good.”
Your head drops down as he lets go of your hair in favor of grabbing your hips, hypnotized by the way your cunt swallowed him whole. His hair was starting to stick to his forehead as he truly fucked you. There was no gentleness, no tendrils of love, just pure ownership and passion.
And cauldron damn you did you love it.
“Gods damn it,” Eris swears, moving one of his hands underneath you to rest on your abdomen so he could feel just how deep inside you he was. “Touch yourself, Y/N. I want you to cum on my cock as I fill you up.”
There was a distant panic in the back of your head at the thought of him cumming inside you. You weren’t on any special tea to prevent pregnancy. In fact, you were on something to encourage it.
“Eris, wait-” You try to protest, your words dying in your throat as he starts to rub your clit for you. His hands are calloused from years of use, giving you the friction that you need to cum within minutes. “Eris, I’m not on any birth control. If you-”
“What, you think I don’t want to knock you up?” He chuckles, voice rough as he increases the speed of both his fingers and thrusts. “Oh, Y/N, did you already forget you’re mine? I came here to claim you and breed you, little fox.”
“Oh my gods,” You whimper, the image only making you draw closer to your finish as he bends over to get right next to your ear.
“You’re going to take all of my cum and thank me for it. I’m going to do what your husband couldn’t, right here in his bed for him to smell when he comes home.” Eris sneers, a tingle going up his spine as he feels his balls tighten with the need to release. “I’ll have you barefoot and pregnant for me before he can even come get you. You’re fucking mine.”
“Yours, Eris!” You repeat, eyes rolling into the back of your head as you clench around him. He gives one more circle on your bud, and you are gone, lost to a mind-numbing orgasm that has him throwing his head back and roaring.
Every muscle in your body tightens and releases as you greedily milk his own cum into your womb, your screams echoing off the bedroom walls. You don’t even register Eris biting your shoulder, the pain mixing dangerously with the pleasure as small rivulets of blood run down your back.
You feel your knees give out as you collapse onto the bed, lungs begging for air while Eris slowly pulls out of you. He is silent, and you have just enough strength to look back to see him watching his speed leak out of your gaping hole, his fingers quick to collect it and stuff it back inside you.
“Eris…” You whisper, your eyes are heavy as he gingerly lifts you up and cradles you in his arms. “Is this…did you really come back for me?”
He lets out a small huff of air in humor as he nods, kissing your forehead and smoothing away your hair. Exhausted, you lean into the touch, and he seems to hold you closer. “I’ll always come back for you, little fox.”
#acotar#acotar reader#acotar reader smut#eris vanserra#eris x reader smut#eris x reader#eris vanserra x reader#eris vanserra x reader smut#eris fic#eris acotar#eris acotar smut#acomaf#acowar#acofas#acosf#acotar smut#eris imagine#eris x reader acotar#eris x reader acotar smut#autumn court
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And IHY Luigi hates this ship
#my art#digital drawing#fanart#lostsorrow#lost silver gold#gold lost silver#lost silver#abandon lonliness sorrow#sorrow leaf#sorrow#abandon lonliness#hypno's lullaby#horrorbrew#pokepasta#gold x sorrow#straight ship#Fleetway likes this ship#IHY Luigi hates this ship#i hate you luigi#luigi#mario's madness v2#mario's madness#fnf mario's madness#fleetway comics#fleetway sonic#fleetway super sonic#fleetway#sonic#leaf#gold
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𝕐𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕄𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 ℍ𝕚𝕘𝕙
❤️🩹Characters: Yandere! MH Ghouls x GN! Reader
❤️🩹Summary: There's something ancient within you. Lost and forgotten. You're an eldritch creature living amongst monsters. A piece of you lives within each of them. And a piece of each of them lives inside you...
❤️🩹Warnings: Yandere behavior, obsessive tendencies, Body horror in Frankie's part, slight gore and blood in the rest, angst, super cryptic.
❤️🩹Could be read as romantic or platonic.
I am a monster, for now and forever. I am a monster, what a terrible being.〜♡॰ॱ
There's something ancient within you. Lost and forgotten. ~❣✧❣
⚡︎Frankie Stein ⚡︎
There's something ancient within you. Lost and forgotten. Frankie is desperate to unravel it. To crack it open. She feels you in every one of her limbs. Feels you in the stems of her patchwork heart. That has to account for something right?
Your melancholy seeps through you, tainting the tiles in shades of gold.
Frankie blames the binding of your skin, she's always found it too loose.
Nothing extramundane, to tether your essence within yourself. She wouldn't mind taking you apart and stitching you back together. Recreating you into something perfect. She's grown wry of watching you crack your ribcage open, shoving astral celestials where your heart should be. You mutter things, things she doesn't understand, things she's scared she'll never understand. Her bones rattle, a rouge spark runs down her spine. Every piece of you haunts her...
Frankie use to believe, verily childishly, that parts of her were salvaged from you. She knows now that that's impossible, yet she still wishes every night for the childish dream to come true.
In many ways, Frankie has always been bound to you. Your first friend, your first confidant, your first punishment, your first comprehension. Even when you'd been too young to understand the cacophony of the world, you'd still know the two of you were connected.
It had only taken a lifetime to understand why.
Bones collapse into constellations. Somehow she feels you slipping away. Her slender fingers trace the stitches across the hollow of your chest. A meteoric reminder of her work. "It's okay I'll have you fixed in no time." Frankie doubts you find any truth in her incentive. You've always been drawn to pessimism. Still, she feeds the needle through skin and muscle. Praying she remembers the stronghold pattern her mother taught her.
The shade they used for your blood is too bright. You bleed in rivers,
flowing with no end insight. You wash away her sorrows with farfetched promises. Awakening a longing, she never knew she had.
Frankie wishes she could pluck out your spine. Kiss each vertebra like an iridescent pear. Maybe then your souls would tether, maybe then everything will go back to the way it once was. The needle snags across bones, marring your skin in star-kissed bruises. She pecks each one, muttering a sorry across cold flesh. You feel like home under her lips. A home she never got to know.
Yet the echoes of its brilliance linger faintly in the hearts of those who once knew its warmth.
Frankie smiles as your eyes crack open. Dizzy and distant, you've yet to notice your enhancements. The pieces of herself she tethered onto you. She wonders when you'll notice the new eye, the new leg, the mismatched fingers. Her heart sparks thumbing loudly in her ribcage.
She sinks down, by the operation table,skinning her knees. You feel like home, now more than ever.
Your fingers find her head, patting the matted hair, she smiles something solemn and forlorn. She trails her fingers over one of the stitches on your arm, prying her slender digits between the threads and into the gaping tissue. Her fingers release a spark, your body arches off the table. After all, blood has always been a good conductor for electricity. "It's just a power boost. You'll be right up in a few minutes." a giggle rips from her throat, as you mummble an acknowledgment. Eyes overcast with equal parts grief and glee.
She always knew she loved you how could she not? You'd been linked to her for as long as she had a conscience. You had always been her everything. Sometimes she wonders how you both ended up like this. Stitching pieces of yourselves into each other.
Frankie closes her eyes. Her mind struggling to regain control. Her deep breaths waver as she hears shifting from the table.
"It's alive..."
𓆩❤︎𓆪Draculaura𓆩❤︎𓆪
Draculaura can smell the ethereal ichor now. Maybe it's always been there. Hidden under bygone layers and golden sand. She wonders if now, knowing what you know, makes you see her as anything less. You're older now, smarter. Maybe you understand the world just a little bit better than she ever could.
Despite her gifted immortality, Draculaura likes to think that she's grown, too. No longer the little batling who faints at the mere scent of blood. Yet the urge to vomit is still there, an acidic reflex in the back of her throat. She's been avoiding you lately, simply because you make the urges go away.
She can't live with that.
Can't live with what you make her.
You trace the heart on her cheek. Your fingers feel like divinity sinking into her skin. You try to reason with her, tell her the truths of the crypt. "Surly Draculaura, you must know who you really are. Isn't it silly that you persist in this nativity?" Your words are harsh. Good intentions wrapped in silver blades. She bites her tongue, killing the queries before they dare spill.
You make her crave things.
Things she's avoided her whole life.
There's blood on your lips, dripping onto the ground. She fights the urge to kiss you. The heat of the sun amplifies the scent of the decaying flesh. Her stomach growls, this isn't right. The grip on her parasol tigtens. There is justice behind your actions, not one she can make herself understand. She watches as you tear into the decomposing body. "Don't", it's nothing less of a prayer. She feels her fangs elongate. How she wishes the world would turn to black.
Can a vampire be haunted?
Surly they can, it's the only answer to your staunch lingering.
Draculaura's coffin feels too snug, like a home and a prison encapsulated in one. She wishes she could feel cold dirt under her nails, feel the thrill of digging her way out of a grave. It's your fault, it has to be. Why must you awaken such ancient sensations? Such horrid cravings, such primal needs.
Why must she see divinity in your face, liquid darkness shimmering behind enigmatic eyes? You are something terrifying, something painful. You are what she was supposed to be, what she's fled from her whole life.
Your silhouette is a curse and a blessing. A reminder of a lineage she was thrusted into. A legacy she never wanted. Everything about you is a hunting familiarity for a family she never knew. She wonders if she would have been the prettiest girl in the morgue. She wonders if her father should have let her die all those eons ago.
"I used to be human" She confesses one night. She doesn't know why you agreed to come over. Why seeing you in your pajamas sparks one too many fond memories.
"So?" your tone is one of perplexity. She feels foolish under your gaze. You glide the makeup brush across her cheeks. dusting them with faded nostalgia. "I can't eat them. It'll feel like I'm eating myself" How long has it been since the transformation occurred? how long has it been since she shedded the body of that sickly fragile girl? She's been a vampire for centuries yet still can't get used to the title.
"You can eat these ones..." Something ancient within her stirs, her bones rattle with comprehension. She knows what you mean and it fills her with a need to scream.
Draculaura can't see her reflection, can't gauge how different she is now. You used to help her with her makeup back in high school. Back when the shade of your lipstick determined your personality for the day. She's never seen her face. She prays it's identical to yours. She prays that someday she can embody you...
There's a deathly hunger within her. Bubbling in her stomach. She needs to let it out before it kills her. Can she even die? She's almost sure she wants to. You almost make her want to succumb to the impulse of quitting her humanity all toghter. Your presence makes her all so hungry. She's gotten better at hiding it under school-ghoul gossip and trend talk.
She settles for a kiss tonight, a rushed peck on the cheek. Some vampire she is, instead of bleeding you dry she's pouring her sorrows into you. She wonders if you take note. See the ghosts jouncing within her soul.
Draculaura's nails pick at the skin of her birthmark.
The skin cracks.
blood trickles.
Can a vampire even be haunted?
Yes.
She knew the charade wouldn't last forever.
Knew that one day the lights would dim and the stage would fade to black
A final curtain call. An impending doom.
The final nail in her glass coffin. Rendering it to shards.
And she'll be left plucking fragments from her eternal flesh.
There's a small joy in knowing you'll be her effacer.
The one to put an end to 2,000 years of pretend.
"And then he was all like "You know?" and I was like "Whatever" and he was-"
"Draculaura, I have no idea what you are talking about." She turns to face you, your smile is a crushing weight. On her shoulders crave. You throw your head back and laugh. Laughing at how little she's changed since you shared a desk in class. Since your most eminent concern was fearleading practice and algebra tests. Draculaura should laugh too, this she knows. Yet she remains distracted by your neck and all the glory it holds.
Just a small bite won't hurt...
☾🐾☽Clawdeen Wolf☾🐾☽
Clawdeen is protective to a fault. A trait she could never identify as innate or habit. Still, the urge to stalk you persists. Pricking away at her fur like wolfsbane.
Clawdeen's been brought up to believe in legacy, to worship the moon and the stars and their maker. Ancient things have a way of lasting lifetimes. She knows this now, finds its evidence when she unravels her family, her pack, herself...you. Her kind has been known to nurture those they love, to birth and raise every great warrior. She ponders again if this was originally encrypted in their blood or if her species picked it up throughout the years.
All she knows is that something inside her awakens when she sees you. A testament to an ancient love, long since stifled under sand and snow.
She wonders if that's what she's done with you all these years. If, in her own way, she's raised you to become some sort of warrior, a great beast living amongst subsidiary.
The two of you sit beside the bay window. Her newest sketchbook draped across her lap. You lean in resting your head on her shoulder, listening as she explains the inspiration behind each design.
You feel like you've been mauled. A piece of you thrown in every direction. Only to morph into the creations of your hunter. "You remember your first design?" you ask, closing your eyes to still the world. "Wasn't that when we wrapped Howleen in a red blanket and my mom's scarf?" Her claws prick her upper lip as she stifles a giggle. "And made her walk around the house like it was a Scaris runway" You add, relishing in the bygone recollection.
Your childhood memories together are coated in ichor. Jejune days
when you'd watch her tumble over herself trying to be everything she could never be. Even back then, you'd known something was amiss with the world. Seen the ancient wolf that lay dormant within her. felt its bonds call out to you, pulling you in deeper. You'd cling to her like a frightened child to a teddy bear.
But you're older now. Instead of the scared child, you've turned into the monster under the bed. Funny how everyone's heritage catches up with them at some point. Even when you grow unaware of its presence. Legacy still tends to echo in your bones. You're both the same in that regard.
"I can never tell if I'm alive or dead." You tell her one night.
"Neither" Clawdeen's voice is rigid, stiff. She can feel your awakening and rebirth. It sings in her head, more vital than a howl. "creatures like us don't die so easily. We only transform." She remembers the legends, the wars, they rattle in her bones sending shivers up her spine. Neither of you have ever died. You've survived every tribulation.
"What doesn't kill you makes you stronger" you reply, Clawdeen notes the embers that burn behind your eyes. How they spread across your body like a wildfire.
"What doesn't kill me, simply gives me a reason to kill it" She swears she sees the moon flicker in retort.
Clawdeen slits her throat with her claws.
Choking on moondust and half-fallen stars.
Her father once told her heritage is everything before giving her a golden ring fashioned as a wolf's head. She still doesn't know what he means.
She knows her kind was born from misplaced love.
She's just glad your fates are entwined.
"Someday you'll have red eyes." You trace your thumb over her lashes as you speak. Trailing down to play with her curls. She knows what you mean. Oh how, she wants to devour the hope you offer so freely. Rip it from your heart and feel it pulsing under her fangs. Maybe then her stars will align and she'll truly understand what she is.
Clawdeen's feelings grow teeth, gnawing at her carnivorously as she pulls you close. Muttering a 'thanks' as if it holds the weight of the world. There's comfort in the thought that she's molded you. Helped nourish your flames until they grew so potent. She's ever only been the middle child of the moon. But with you, she feels like so much more. Like something celestial, something ancient. An heirloom made of blood and moonrock.
Above you the clouds part. Giving way to the full moon.
₊˚.༄Lagoona Blue₊˚.༄
The air in her lungs feels synthetic, dry. She chokes off the sand and ozone, blinded by the unfiltered light, leaving burns on her frail, scaled, skin. She wonders if this is how a fish feels as it's being reeled on land. She wonders if she's any different now.
Her heart hammers when she sees you, cracking her ribs in hysteria.
Water lilies bloom from their marrow, she counts them just to distract from the stars burning in your eyes. Her teeth catch her bottom lip, gnawing the pink flesh like a shark does its prey.
Her eyes burn when she catches a glimpse of you by the pond. Gazing conflicted at three-eyed frogs. She can't help but see you as a cacophony of unmarked graves. Too many ghosts linger across your body, they're prints evident in the afternoon sun.
You leave a water lily behind her ear as you brush past her in the hallway. She thinks your perfection is exaggerated, artificial like the air. The kind daydreaming divers pray to find in rogue oysters. Lagoona is sure you're the last of your kind. An endangered creature too proud to ask for help. She clumsily fingers the flower's petals. The wave of nostalgia that invades, has her gasping for air.
The ocean she once called home is overrun by rot. She too is infected by the pollution that plugs her gills. In her dreams, she treads through clean oceans, webbed fingers entwined with yours. There is no corrosion here, no death. Just you and her and everything that entails the definition of good. When she wakes up she notices that her gills are falling one by one. Pastel blue glints scattered, floating across her bed like the empty husks of sea stars.
She too is the last of her kind.
She too is destined to perish in agony.
She wonders if you hear her tears. Hear them fall into the abyssal sea. Feel their reverberations as they create rings on the surface. She can't expect such a thing from you. You're in your own world struggling with your own scars. You left her another flower today, nymphoides indica, she doesn't understand what you're trying to tell her.
The pond has started to bleed too. Its decaying scent is pungent from miles away.
has it bled into her?
Is she infected too?
You're there again today, worlds apart yet close enough to touch. Her body stiffens as she kneels next to you. Desperate for your attention, desperate for you to tell her what she is. Maybe, just maybe she can confess her love in time to share a grave with you.
"I used to be so beautiful.." Your voice sounds evasive. A final cry for help before the ocean consumes you. Your reflection in the pond is muddled over. A glitch in reality, something Frankie would have more experience with. "you still are mate…you still are" Her words are earnest, yet she doubts they bring you solace. "If it's any consolation, I'm polluted too..". You laugh so condescending it makes her stomach churn. She rolls the words in her mouth again, tasting them for misunderstandings.
"We're all polluted Lagoona. We always have been."
You're made of one too many pieces, all doused in poison. You rearrange the water lilies on her head. Your fingers feel like home threading through her hair. "The last of our kind." Lagoona giggles, her body is growing dryer, desperate, the moisturizer and hydration station have long since stopped working. Now she awaits the poison to take over fully. You're her memento mori another helpless creature awaiting death.
And yet, to her, you're still as radiant as the first day she met you.
Lagoona's grave will be in the sea. It's a last wish one you decide to honor. You kiss her on the cheek as she turns to you. Body half submerged in her home. She hugs you, with all the longing her frail corpse can muster. It's only too late when you notice that you too are being submerged. Dragged into the eternal depths. Lagoona refuses to part with you. This is her final gift, the last present she will give you. A quick and painless death. One with a comforting presence.
Her father used to tell her strange tales of bizarre men who'd come to their ancestrial home, seeking answers far too advanced for them. She wonders if she's had the answers all along. Maybe she just had to look a little deeper.
It doesn't matter now. For her final breaths, she is at peace. She is content to end like this. With you in her arms.
𓂀𓆣☥Cleo De Nile☥𓆣𓂀
Cleo likes to think she's come a long way from her former self. No longer an autocrat cheerleader with stary eyes and a need to be worshipped.
She likes to think she's filled out the role of queen, of sovereign, of absolute.
She's done her dynasty proud...
Shattered and transformed herself into the perfect vessel.
It's not until she catches her rogue reflection in the gleam of your eyes, that she realizes she's still the same. Eons have passed yet Cleo still remains the same frail cowardly daughter bearing the burden of the D'Nile name.
You look every bit a queen, a sovereign, an absolute. You've grown to fill the role you never knew you had.
Cleo bleeds gold. She always has.
Little did she know, you did too.
You always had.
There's a crushing weight, something that makes her long for entombment. "I wish I were a mere child once more." her tone is sand on sand. So faint you think it nothing more than a mirage of sound. Her head lays on your lap bleeding out her sins as she prays for the sun to melt her. Feeble, unstable thing she is. Hailing from a feeble unstable place.
Maybe it would do you both some good to forgo the past. To embrace a thundering, grotesque future. Maybe it's time to retire the thrones and gold bangles. Maybe it's time to depart.
she laughs at such a preposterous notion.
Cleo's Icoffine lays in a pool of shards and wires and golden beads. Her bandaged fingers wrapped tightly around your bicep, tugging you closer until the scent of spices and flora became overbearing. "it's...okay" you lie through the rage bubbling in your throat. Through the tears that sting the corners of your eyes. "It's not-it's...it's never been okay", the words feel like boulders crushing her bones. turning her body and bandages back to dust.
You've known Cleo to always wear a broken crown. Funny how, after a millennia, the cracks still keep growing. Only now they bleed into her corpse, cut through bandages, and aim for the heart. You want to wipe her tears away. To whisper glory and purpose into her bejeweled ears.
Cleo lies on the golden floor. It's cold, frigid, she doesn't remember gold to be so unwelcoming, so petrifying. You pull her hand to your heart, hovering above her. Watching as she melts and hardens in the same breath.
"Allow me the pleasure of death once more. Allow me the luxury of being the only monster you ever have to know." Cleo doesn't remember missing her sarcophagi so much. Her lungs fill with broken promises as her eyes sting from mulish obsoletes. "I've been so blind for so long." She confesses, free hand fiddling with the jewels on her blouse. Running them along her nails waiting to see which will scratch first. "As have I, there's no need to-" her voice is harsh as she sits up. The undead rising from its bejeweled grave. Her hands cup your face. She tries to be gentle, to cradle you like a flower petal. "I'm-I-" her breath hitches as her fractured mind screams. "I hate myself all so very much. Yet I love you with every bit of the heart I thought I lost all those millennia ago."
Chaos has a way of squirming through her veins.
Her dreams are tainted in rubies, seeing you lying in the sand.
The noise above is defining. She hates that she's not used to it by now.
It can't be fair.
The world can't take you from her.
You're the only lifeline she has left.
The only hope that remains.
You tell Cleo you want to die one starless night, she understands the sentiment. You don't know why that makes you cry. Her lips leave phantom kisses across your eyelids. Spilling gold pleated secretes into your skin. Cleo wishes she kept you entombed next to her, rotting away far from every disaster. Yet she knows she can't, not now at least. You've morphed her into her purpose better than her omnipotent father and cruel sister ever could. With you by her side, she's truly become a queen, a sovereign, an absolute. While you rein above her, some all-knowing creature who she can't help but worship.
Maybe someday, decades from now.
The love you share will be dethroned
How unlikely such a feat seems.
Taglist: @hadesnewpersephone @feedmestraycats @deathangelraven @itotallysleepenough @yuuka29 @umgatochamadopercyval
#yandere#yandere x reader#yancore#yandere x you#yandere aesthetic#monster high#clawdeen wolf#clawdeen wolf x reader#draculaura#draculaura x reader#yandere draculaura#yandere clawdeen wolf#frankie stein#y2k#frankie stein x reader#yandere frankie stein#lagoona blue#lagoona blue x reader#yandere lagoona blue#monster high x reader#cleo de nile#cleo de nile x reader#yandere cleo de nile#vampier#yandere vampire#yandere werewolf#vampire x reader#werewolf x reader#yandere mermaid#yandere sea monster
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Unraveled yet unbroken
Summary: You enter Agatha Harkness’s life, finding her steeped in grief and isolation. Despite her reluctance, you offer friendship, and your bond deepens into something more. But when an unexpected figure from Agatha’s past returns, the fragile connection you’ve built faces a formidable test.
Warnings: emotional conflict, loss and grief, angst with happy ending.
Word count: 2.2k
~Agathario x fem!reader~
Please don’t copy/steal or translate this work thanks
~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~
The air was thick with unspoken grief when you first stepped into Agatha Harkness’s life. After Nicholas’s death, she was surrounded by ancient tomes, seemingly a ghost herself.
“You shouldn’t be here,” Agatha murmured one evening, her voice heavy with sorrow as she sat among flickering candles. “I don’t need pity.”
You offered a gentle smile, trying to ease her defenses. “I’m not here to pity you. I’m here to help. You’re struggling, Agatha. It’s okay to accept that.”
“I don’t need help,” she snapped, but the flicker in her eyes suggested otherwise. “I’ve handled my life alone for centuries. I can manage this too.”
“Even the strongest witches need support sometimes,” you replied softly, taking a seat across from her. “You don’t have to carry this weight alone.”
Agatha’s eyes narrowed as she considered your words. The silence stretched, heavy and taut, before she finally let out a long sigh. “Perhaps you’re right. I just… don’t want to be a burden.”
“Trust me,” you encouraged, “you’re not a burden. Just let me be here for you.”
Over the course of several weeks, you found your bond deepening as you became a steady presence in Agatha’s life. You’d bring her tea, and quietly sit by her side. One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with gold and lavender, Agatha let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
“I used to think I had everything figured out,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “And then Nicholas… he was everything to me.”
You leaned forward, heart aching for her. “I know. Losing someone you love is the hardest thing. But you don’t have to go through this alone. I’m here.”
Agatha looked at you, vulnerability mingling with curiosity. “What do you want from me?”
“Only to be your friend,” you replied, meeting her gaze. “You’re not alone, Agatha. Let me in.”
~<~>~<~>~<~>~
As your connection grew, so did the warmth between you. Just as you started to navigate these feelings, Rio Vidal burst into your lives like a summer storm radiant and powerful.
“Agatha,” she greeted, her voice warm, “I didn’t expect to see you again. Not after well everything.”
Agatha’s eyes widened, surprise dancing across her features. “Rio… It’s been a long time. I was hoping to never see you again.”
You felt a thrill of apprehension mixed with excitement. “Who’s this?” Rio asked, her gaze shifting to you, curiosity piqued.
“Just a friend,” Agatha replied, but there was a flicker of warmth in her tone.
“Friend, huh?” Rio smirked, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Seems like more than that. You’ve got a certain glow, Agatha. It’s adorable.”
You exchanged a glance with Agatha, feeling the tension rise. “I’m just here to support Agatha through… everything.”
“Support, or something more?” Rio probed, stepping closer with a teasing grin.
“Rio, please,” Agatha interjected, a reluctant smile breaking through her facade. “This isn’t the time for games.”
“Isn’t it?” Rio countered, her tone light. “Because if I didn’t know better, I’d say there’s something brewing here that’s more than just friendship.”
“Stop it,” Agatha huffed, but her smile betrayed her amusement.
“Agatha, you’re practically glowing,” you chimed in, unable to suppress your laughter. “Rio might be onto something.”
“Alright, fine,” Agatha sighed, rolling her eyes but unable to hide her smile. “I guess we’re all a little enchanted here.”
~<~>~<~>~<~>~
The seasons changed and your lives intertwined, love became a steadfast pillar. The trio navigated your complex feelings, each step forward bringing laughter, support, and moments of vulnerability. One evening, as you all practiced spells under the flickering light of the candles, Rio shot you both a teasing glance.
“You know,” she said, leaning back with a smirk, “I’m starting to think Agatha’s more in love with you than with me.”
“Impossible,” you shot back, unable to contain your grin. “You’re the one with the captivating charm.”
“True, but maybe I could share the spotlight,” Rio replied with a wink. “After all, Agatha, your heart seems to beat a little faster when you’re around both of us.”
“Stop it, both of you,” Agatha said, her cheeks flushing, but there was a lightness in her eyes. “You’re making it hard to concentrate.”
“Let’s embrace it,” you suggested, feeling emboldened. “We’re all here for each other. We can face whatever comes next together.”
As time went on, love became a constant in your lives, your days filled with shared moments and soft laughter. You became each other’s anchors, a triad bound by a powerful magic that thrived in the warmth of your hearts, but something felt off.
One starlit night, the three of you gathered outside, the moon casting a soft glow around you. “What do you think the future holds for us?” you asked, glancing between them. Not noticing Agatha’s eyes looking uncertain.
~<~>~<~>~<~>~
The winter air was cold as the three of you gathered in Agatha’s dimly lit study, the flickering candlelight casting eerie shadows on the walls. An argument had simmered beneath the surface for weeks, and now it was boiling over.
“Why can’t you just trust me?” Rio exclaimed, her voice raised, frustration spilling into every word. “You always shut me out, Agatha! It’s like you don’t even want to be part of this.”
Agatha crossed her arms, her brow furrowing. “I’m not shutting you out! I’m trying to figure things out for myself. I need space to process everything!”
“Space?” Rio scoffed. “You’ve been pushing me away for too long! You act like you can handle everything alone, but that’s not fair to either of us.”
You shifted uncomfortably, trying to find a middle ground. “Can we please just take a step back? We’re all feeling this pressure. It’s okay to talk about it without accusing each other.”
Agatha’s eyes darted to you, and you could see the hurt mingling with anger. “You think I’m doing this on purpose? You don’t understand the weight of what I’m carrying. It’s suffocating!”
“Then let me help you!” Rio stepped closer, her voice softening. “We’re in this together. I love you, Agatha, but I can’t keep doing this if you won’t let me in.”
Agatha’s gaze faltered for a moment, and you felt a swell of hope. “I just… I don’t know how to let anyone in right now,” she confessed, her voice breaking.
“Maybe that’s the problem,” you interjected gently. “We’re not just friends; we’re family. We can’t have a healthy relationship if we’re all holding back.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” Agatha shot back, her frustration igniting again. “You don’t know what it’s like to carry my past, the mistakes I’ve made.”
“Neither do you!” Rio fired back, tears welling in her eyes. “You’re acting like you’re alone in this, but we’re here, Agatha! Don’t you see? You’re pushing us away!”
Silence fell, heavy and suffocating. You watched as Agatha’s expression hardened, walls rising around her.
“Maybe I need to be alone,” Agatha finally said, her voice steady but cold. “Maybe this whole thing was a mistake.”
“Don’t say that,” you pleaded, feeling your heart sink. “We can work through this. We love each other!”
“Love isn’t enough if you can’t communicate,” she shot back, her tone final. “I can’t keep pretending that everything is okay when it’s not.”
You felt a deep ache as the reality sank in. “So that’s it? We just throw everything away?”
“I can’t do this anymore,” Agatha said, her voice unwavering. “I need to find myself again, without the both of you.”
“Agatha, please…” Rio’s voice trembled, but Agatha turned away, her decision made.
With heavy hearts, you both watched as she walked to the door, opening it and stepping into the night. The cool air rushed in, carrying with it the weight of finality.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, feeling tears well up in your eyes. “I didn’t want it to end like this.”
“Neither did I,” Rio replied, her voice barely a whisper. “But we can’t force her to stay if she doesn’t want to.”
As the door closed, a profound silence enveloped the room. The love that had once filled this space felt like a distant memory, leaving behind only the echoes of what could have been.
“I guess we should go our separate ways,” you said softly, the weight of the words hanging heavily in the air.
Rio nodded, her expression filled with sorrow. “Maybe some time apart will help us all… to heal.”
And with that, the three of you, once intertwined in love and friendship, began to drift apart, each carrying the pain of a love that had unraveled before its time.
~<~>~<~>~<~>~
A century later and Agatha found herself on the road with a coven of amateurs well in her opinion anyway and Teen. Summoning a green witch because her first pick wasn’t great.
What she didn’t expect was for her two exes to climb out of the ground, but alas that’s how it shall be it appears.
The first thing that came to her mind was that it was all her fault. She was the one that didn’t trust Rio, she was the one that drove the two people she loved away, and now she needed to be the one standing in the shadow while you and Rio catch up.
Ashamed was one thing she was feeling but that barely scratched the surface of everything that was going on in her mind, and more importantly in her heart.
She wondered if you two still occasionally talked or if she pulled the two of you apart when she left. She hoped that it didn’t happen, that she wasn’t the cause of a potential split between her two loves.
Conflicted and close to crying she decided to just go for a stroll. What she hadn’t anticipated was that the two of you would actually follow her, but it looked like she was going to have this conversation sooner rather than later.
~<~>~<~>~<~>~
The three of you sat together, shadows dancing around as if witnessing your reunion. Agatha shifted uncomfortably, eyes darting between you and Rio, her expression softening with each glance.
“Centuries have passed,” Agatha began, her voice barely a whisper, “and I’ve had all this time to think. About us, about how I hurt you both.”
Rio raised a brow, her usual smirk absent, watching Agatha intently. You, too, remained silent, sensing that this moment was long overdue.
“I didn’t trust you, Rio. Not when you needed me to,” Agatha admitted, her gaze heavy with regret. “And that hurt you both. I thought I could protect myself by keeping distance, but I was wrong. So terribly wrong.”
Rio’s eyes softened, but she remained quiet, letting Agatha continue.
Agatha’s hand reached out, tentative, first finding yours and then Rio’s. “I’ve missed you both more than I could ever say. I want to be better for you… if you’ll have me.
You squeezed her hand, feeling her sincerity, and shared a glance with Rio, whose expression softened as her fingers intertwined with Agatha’s.
Rio’s voice was gentle, almost teasing. “You’ll have to make it up to us, Agatha. But I think we can manage that.”
Agatha laughed softly, relief clear on her face. Her arms found their way around you both, pulling you close under the starlit sky. The silence was filled with a warmth that had been missing for centuries, the three of you wrapped in each other’s presence, ready to rebuild what time and mistakes had once broken apart.
~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~
Fin <3
#agatha all along#agatha harkness#rio vidal#agatha harkness x reader#agathario#agathario x reader#rio vidal x reader#agatha harkness x rio vidal#fanfic#marvel#mcu
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But You Belong to Me (You Belong to Me) - (Yandere Jason Todd x Reader) Sneak Peak!!
Hey guys! I just thought I'd post a sneak peek for the upcoming yandere Jason Todd x Reader fic. It isn't much but hope y'all like it!
[Exerpt]
Heavy rain pelts down onto your frame, coveted in all black; what a bleak day it was, but you guessed the weather was befitting the occasion. There are three other people standing next to you also dressed in black. There was a hand on your shoulder (you don't know whose though, and you can't seem to care either), most likely in place to comfort you, or to try at least, but you couldn't focus on anything else but the too small coffin being lowered into the ground.
It was mahogany, a deep brown casket with gold details, something fancy. You knew if Jason were alive to see it, he'd hate it. He likes–liked red, he would have wanted a red one. But no, he was busy being lowered into the ground instead. Tears streamed down your face but you couldn't bring yourself to wipe them. What good would it do you? It was raining anyway.
The funeral comes to a close, although you're not sure when (how) time passed so quickly, leaving Jason, your best friend, the boy you loved, buried six feet under. You don't know what to do, you don't know what you can do. You just stand there, unable to move. He's dead. He’s dead. You’ll never see him again, he’s dead. You'll never sit on the couch with him arguing over his book of the week, he’s dead. You'll never get to stay up and watch the stars with him, he’s dead. You'll never get to tell him how you really feel, he's dead.
It's only when Bruce, his father, gently tries to guide you to the car you came in, you break. You lash out, twisting away from his hand as you trip over yourself trying to get to Jason’s headstone. Bruce and Dick, Jason’s older brother, exclaim in surprise and then follow after you. You collapse on your knees near the freshly lain dirt, sobbing with your full chest.
You could hear Bruce and Dick stop a couple of feet away from you, unable to comfort you in their own grief. That was fine though, you're not sure what you'd say or do if they tried to. They let you have your time with him, knowing it was just as difficult for you as it was for them, but as time ticks by another hour has passed and you’re still kneeling by his grave, no longer crying, but still unmoving.
You stared blankly at his headstone, still trying to realize that he wasn't coming back. When you feel someone grab your shoulder this time, you know it's Alfred. And you know what he's going to say to you, the words you’ve been dreading to hear.
“It’s time to go Miss (Y/n).” Alfred says gently, his own voice filled with grief at the loss of his grandson.
You don't say anything, your mouth opens, but no sound comes out. Alfred only sighs, before taking his leave. Good. Nobody was taking you away from here. A couple more minutes pass when you hear another pair of footsteps headed towards you. Bruce.
“(Y/n),” Bruce calls softly, yet voice still rough and raw from his own sorrow, “It’s–It's time to go now sweetie.”
You don't even turn around from where you were sitting. “No.” You say firmly.
Bruce and Alfred exchange a look.
“Miss (Y/n),” Alfred starts, “ you’ve been sitting out in the rain all day. Wouldn't you like a change of–”
“No!” You shout out this time. You flinch back from the sound of your own voice, and you could tell Alfred and Bruce were taken aback by your behavior as well.
With a sigh, Bruce decides that he'd come get you himself, any longer out here and you'd be sick for a week. His hands come around to grab you, to pull you up and you scream, kicking and fighting your way out of his hold.
“No! No, I wont leave him! I'm not gonna leave him! Let me go!” You cry, banging your punny fists against Bruce’s chest. He doesn't even flinch, he just holds you and lets you cry, kick, and scream.
“Please let me go! He–he doesn't like being alone, I promised him–I promised I'd never let him be alone.” You cry out again, your voice fizzling into another sob as your fussing stops. You just stand there, slumping into Bruce’s arms, sobbing once more.
He doesn't say another word, he just brushes your tears away and leads you towards the limo where Dick was already situated. Alfred sits you down into the limo, making his way to the driver's seat. Bruce slides in next, eyes aghast and tired, clearly haunted by the loss of his youngest. Dick is turned away from the rest of you in a similar state. The car starts, heading towards the manor.
It was a silent and short ride over, nobody daring or having the strength to say anything. The vehicle comes to a stop, everyone numbly piling out the door and into the Manor. Dinner would be forgotten tonight as everyone went to their own respective places to continue grieving. Bruce, to the Batcave; Alfred, to the Library; Dick, to patrolling the streets of Gotham (knowing that if he stayed in the manor, he’d end up breaking something); and you, to Jason's room.
You crumpled onto the maroon carpet, gazing around his room, hoping that you'd see him pop up and tell you it was all a joke. But he wouldn't. You saw his mangled body. You knew that he was never coming back. What's even worse, is that you could still see Jason’s unfinished math homework lying on his desk, the paper slightly crumpled from when he would undoubtedly grip and erase out of frustration. Mrs. Delaurier’s algebra II homework would forever remain unfinished.
You promptly break into tears once more.
[I want to preface that the reader is NOT adopted by Bruce Wayne!]
#batfamily#yandere jason todd#jason todd x reader#jason todd x you#yandere jason todd x reader#jason todd#bruce wayne#tim drake#dick grayson#justice league#dc x reader#dcu#dc universe#yandere x reader#x reader#alfred pennyworth#young justice#batman#red hood#red hood x reader#yandere red hood#robin
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hi :)) can i make a request about zhongli who has a s/o who is very self conscious and has low self esteem?? like they’re just constantly hating on themselves and have nothing good to say about themselves making poor zhongli worried :((
₊˚ෆ 𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐁𝐈𝐃… | zhongli, xiao, childe x gn!reader
[ "archons forbid you in having these thoughts once more. love, you are perfect, and please don't let anyone sway that." ]
— "archons, why did i just do that? ...fuck, i'm such an idiot..."
ZHONGLI interrupted the occasional stroke of his ink-stained brush upon silk canvas, his gilded eyes glancing up and searching your face until they met yours.
"Love, why are you..." His voice trailed off as his gaze filled with warm concern, his expression softening as his brows furrowed, as if he couldn't even begin to fathom why'd you think such a thing. He set down the brush in its hold, before moving to stand. You were sat on the couch across from his desk, where you could remain in his line of sight as he did his duties, and now you were curled up on its cushions, looking at him with the corners of your mouth slightly drawn down into a pout.
"Do you want to talk about it?" He sat down next to you, unsure of how close he should get, and so hovered an arm's length away from your form. You quietly shook your head in a frustrated manner, and he made a short hum of acknowledgement. "Love, come here. Let's take a break together, you and me, alright?"
When he had received your approval, he gently held you in his arms, stroking a gloved hand in your hair soothingly. He was warm, his tall figure engulfing you, and you melted at his touch. "...Zhongli, why do you love someone like me?"
You felt his fingers' delicate touch abruptly still to a halt at your words. Silence encompassed the room, and Zhongli shifted in his seat, drawing closer and finally moving his hand to your face, grabbing at your chin and tilting it upwards so you had no choice but to stare into his glittering eyes. The traces of a smile lingered on his lips. "It'd be impossible not to."
How come your vision had grown so cloudy? "I'm bad. At everything. I can't do anything right."
"Just who told you that? Love, your character is beautiful. You're diligent, hard-working, talented, with a golden heart... it makes me wonder how I even was able to join hands with you in the first place." His corners of his mouth were truly curved upwards now, and he met your gaze with a close eyed smile, his dark-lashed lids fluttering. "Archons forbid... please don't tell that to yourself again, alright?"
Hot tears begun to spill from your eyes at his words. No, that couldn't be true. How... how come it was possible for someone like to trust you to this extent?
Ah, I know why. The thought came to you as he kissed the tears from your sorrow-laden lashes. "I love you."
His cheeks warmed just the slightest, his gaze of melted gold soft as a smile graced his lips once more.
"Yes, I love you too." ₊˚ෆ
— "agh, messed up again... archons, how come i can't do anything right??"
XIAO's head snapped up as soon as the words were uttered into the midnight air, immediately emerging from the shadows by your side as you stared over the edge of Wangshu Inn's balcony, tightly gripping the wooden railings.
"What... What did you just say?" You flinched at his sudden presence, something you had still yet to grow accustomed to. The adeptus had a habit of listening in on your rambles with yourself, and appeared whenever he deemed fit. However, your words now seemed to have angered him, as eyes were narrowed in displeasure, his cat-like diamond pupils forming mere slits.
"Is there... something wrong?" You tilted your head in confusion, watching a flit of emotions cross Xiao's face in a mere split-second.
"Yes. Three steps away." His voice made it clear that it was no mere request. Complying to his order, you duly backtracked the said amount, empty hands raised in front of you as a sign of surrender. "Don't get too close to the railing. It's dangerous."
You almost laughed. "Ah, but won't you save me if I happen to fall?"
"That's granted." Xiao scoffed, nodding a little too quickly after your question, but caught himself. It seemed that he had, in fact, learned a thing or two about mortal speech from you. "No, don't change the topic now. What you said earlier... do you really believe that?"
"...Well, it's true, isn't it?" You faced the scenery in front of you, the blue, slightly cloud dusted skies, the grooves of the land and the jagged mountains poking up out of harsh stone... it was an easier sight than looking into the adeptus' eyes at the moment. His eyes were acute, perceptive, honed sharply after years of service. Oh, that was the truth, wasn't it? You were afraid that he'd see too much in your gaze, and that he'd know how much of a pathetic failure you were, with nothing but mistake after mistake following your every movement-
"Hey." There was a light touch on your wrist - Xiao's gloved fingers, wrapping around it gently. "Just what are you thinking about? You look... upset, and I don't like it." There it was. His clear eyes, staring into yours with concern. "You... You said you couldn't do anything right, but that's not true at all, love."
Love.
Xiao had never been one to display much affection, yet he had readily agreed to use such a name for his one and only. His voice was quiet, gentle, nothing like how you had first imagined it in the days after the two of you's first encounter.
"Thank you, Xiao." You finally turned to him, face breaking into a smile, and you saw his tense figure visibly relax at your contentment.
"...What for?"
"For being here. Everything." In the dim moonlight, you just might've glimpsed the whisper of a smile on the adeptus' lips, a secret one, a small one, just for you.
"There's no need to thank me. It was the least I could do." ₊˚ෆ
— "seriously?? this is the eighth damn... i knew i it, i'm absolute shit at everything i do... "
CHILDE's eyes widened as he spun to look at you, his mouth forming a round 'o' as he spotted the countless ink splatters on the paper, on your table, on your fingers, staining your clothes - everything.
...And upon seeing the chaos, clutched his sides and burst into several bouts of laughter that stretched on for minutes. When he was done with his ridicule, he placed his hands on his hips dramatically, a playful smile still decorating his joyful expression. "Aha- Love, just what...?" His voice trailed off, surely there was no need to finish his sentence? There could only be one possible thing he was referring to, and it was the absolute mess you had created, and a mess that you now sat in the center of, blinking awkwardly with a wobbly half-smile on your lips.
"Uhm... I tried to... Ugh, nevermind..." You crumpled up the canvas sheet filled with incoherent scribbles and threw it into some archon-forsaken corner, where you prayed it would never cross your line of sight again. Under your breath, you mumbled out several curse words, a frown tugging at the corners of your mouth. "Shit, this is why no one should place any faith in me, good for nothing..."
The smile on his face dropped. Curse him, and his stupidly acute hearing. Instantly, he was a mere two inches away from you, deep ocean eyes boring into yours in an almost uncanny manner. "...Hey, just now, care to repeat that?"
"...Good for nothing...?" You flinched, unsure of where the sudden wave of bloodlust that was currently flooding your senses had come from - until you glanced up at Childe, who stood over you, his eyes closed in a happy smile but the expression on his face anything but happy.
"Who told you that?" His voice was venomous, it felt like you were being poisoned just listening to it. A dark shadow cast over his eyes, as if this were some dramatic soap opera.
"Did someone have to?" You sighed, waving your hand in the air in a dismissive way. "It's true, though. I seriously can't get anything right, and I haven't even gotten started on what I don't like about myself-"
"Stop." Childe held a finger over your mouth, pressing it to your lips and effectively bringing your words to a halt. "Stop, stop stop, it's all wrong, love!" He looked like a kicked puppy, his eyes downcast and a pout on his lips, and you could practically imagine the ginger folded ears and tail that might've been. "Seriously, how do you even think up of these kinds of things?? They're not true at all!"
Why was he so adamant on this? "But... it is?"
"That's it." Childe waltzed over to where you sat on the ground, before grabbing you from the middle and hoisting you over his shoulder, giving a little huff when you wriggled to try and break free from his grasp. "We're going on a one-week vacation. To Mondstadt. Inazuma. Sumeru. Fontaine. Shneznaya, for all I care. Just not here."
"Do... Do I have a say in this?" You frowned slightly from your position, you arms dangling over your head as you fought your hardest not to laugh.
"No."
"What's even wrong with here, why..."
"Shush. Let me take care of you, won't you?" ₊˚ෆ
(a/n) apapapappow second request done!! im not doing all that bad hehehe... wish me luck on my ap class midterm!! i should be studying rn but uhm uhm yes genshin men are first priority >>>
-> teehee what if yall left a message on my christmas tree 😶😶😶
໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife
#★ ˎˊ˗ mondaymelon#astronetwrk#favoniuslibrary#x reader#genshin fanfic#genshin imagines#genshin impact#genshin x you#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin headcanons#genshin#zhongli x reader#zhongli genshin#zhongli x you#xiao x reader#xiao x you#childe x reader#childe x you#genshin fluff#genshin fic#x gn reader#genshin oneshots#reader insert#genshin fandom#genshin fanfiction#zhongli genshin x reader#xiao genshin x reader#genshin xiao#childe genshin x reader
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Escapism 🍂
18+ Minotaur x Gender Neutral Reader
(Size difference, Breeding, reader has afab anatomy)
DogWitch Notes: Thank you guys for the love on my last story! It makes me so happy to know people are enjoying my work :) this one has a little more build up but it might call for multiple chapters?
Summary: The library is off limits after dark but knowledge waits for no one. Besides, reading mythology is much more immersive at night. So immersive, in fact, that the breath on the back of your neck feels very, very real.
You had been crouching behind the bookshelf for so long now your legs were starting to loose feeling. Finally, though, the university librarian had finished making his checks and began turning out the lights. He was an anxious looking man in his thirties and you felt a little bad deceiving him like this- after all, it was him that had given you the book in the first place. But the tome was a relic that couldn’t leave the library to be read in your dorm room and you were so desperate to finish it. So, since stealing seemed a bit dramatic, you would have to settle for trespassing. You heard the large wooden door echo closed and dragged yourself from your hiding place, book still clutched to your chest. Your eyes took some time to adjust to the darkness as you dug around in your pocket for your lighter. Slivers of moonlight through the window seemed to die in the shadows of the towering book cases. They looked almost identical to the grand towers of the university in the darkness and the chill in the air gave you the feeling of walking through the streets at night.
Lighter in hand, you slowly navigated the corridors to find your much beloved reading corner and lit the candles you had left there. The little corner of light looked so cozy and you smiled as you gathered yourself up in the blanket you had bought and settled down in the old armchair with your book. The title ‘Portentum Complexus’ was embossed in gold into deep red leather. Much of the writing was still in the original Latin and you had been taking your time to carefully translate. However there were passages written in English, seemingly added by a scholar years later as well as beautiful etched illustrations. From all of these pieces, you had managed to put together a tale of a strange beast, roaming the land to find his lost lover. There had been a great war between worlds and the beast was trying to bring life back to his realm. Though the creature was described as being a hulking monster, triple the size of any man, covered in corse hair, obsidian black horns and pointed hooves; he still had a gentle feel about him. There was a sadness in the Latin passages that didn’t seem to properly translate into English. Perhaps that was why previous scholars hadn’t bothered to do so. But you poured over them, wanting to find the words to understand this creature who everyone, bar the monsters of his realm, was so afraid of. Your heart hurt for him a little; after all, he was looking for his love, he must feel so alone.
So this was how you intended to spend your night, curled up on the moth bitten armchair reading about lamenting fictional creatures. University was certainly the right choice. You flicked to the last English passage you had been studying. The beast had been captured by a human army and, not wishing to harm them by fighting back, had ended up bound by thick ropes in the king’s dungeon.
‘The corse binding bit into his soft flesh as he cried out into the empty corridors. He cried for his love, for his mate. He cried for them to find him in this cold and lonesome maze. His sorrow echoed from the cold stone and surrounded him.’
A sudden noise broke you from your immersion. It sounded like the lowing of cattle, strange since you were in the city centre. It was quickly replaced by the constant groaning of the ancient building before you could pay it much mind. The library was surprisingly noisy at night.
‘The beast cried until his throat was horse and even the reflection of his own voice left him alone. He feared he was to die here in the darkness. He spoke a silent prayer to the gods that his love might be safe. His chest heaved against its restraints as the monster resigned himself to his fate.’
Again came that noise, closer now, and sounding more laboured. You looked around but saw nothing in the darkness. Your mind must be playing tricks, you knew you shouldn’t really be here after all.
‘Movement. Movement in the darkness. The beast stirred and strained to see who approached him. Staring, wide eyed and loving through the bars of his captivity there stood…’
The words cut off back into Latin. You sighed and contemplated packing in for the night, translating seemed a tiresome chore at this hour. But something kept you going, call it intellectual curiosity. You needed to know what happened to the monster you had grown so fond of. Slowly but surely, word by word, you uncovered each sentence.
‘His love. His love had come to rescue him. They picked at the lock and made their way inside. The beast stared in disbelief. After all this time, all this searching, his love had been the one to find him. They approached with caution, unsure whether they recognised their mate after all these years. “Please, do not be afraid my heart, it is me.”’
The voice startled you. You read the words but they seemed to come from behind you. You turned again but again saw nothing but empty corridors through towering shelves. Perhaps your love of escapism had just left you with a very vivid imagination.
‘His love came forward, running their hands over the restrains that bound their lover. With a deft hand and a sharp blade, they began to cut through the rope. The beast sighed in relief as the pressure on his chest was released.’
The back of your neck tingled as a warm gust of air blew through the library. You could not shake the feeling you were being watched now but the story had you too gripped to care.
‘Like felled serpents, the ropes lay limp on the stone floor and the beast rose up from his stupor. He towered above his lover but they were not afraid. They knew he could not hurt them nor anyone else. They were bound together by fate and they would always find their way back to one another.
“My love. My heart. Please, I have craved for you endlessly. Let me hold you and make you mine once more.”’
Without warning you were pulled into a sudden embrace that knocked the air from your lungs. In your confusion, you did not even scream as large hands pulled you bodily from your chair. You were suddenly being held against a wall of corse fur, inhaling the bitter sweet of hay and sweat. You look up to see, towering over you in the candle-kissed half light, a great Minotaur.
He held you flush to his soft, strong chest as though you weighed nothing at all. His breath was hot on your skin and as a rough, black tongue ran up your neck making you shiver. “My mate…” The creature’s voice was low and surrounded you just as fully as his embrace, “How I’ve longed for this.” With one sweep of his arm, the Minotaur sent your books and papers fluttering to the ground. You had to crane your neck to gaze up at him as he placed you down on the desk; his dark eyes bore into you with such deep lust that you couldn’t help a pang of arousal coursing through your body. Nobody had ever looked at you this way. The great beast stood tall over you, taking in your body like he wanted to consume every part. You felt then, something hot and heavy resting next to your thigh. Your face flushed red and you had to look away for a moment, suddenly finding yourself embarrassed as the obscenity of the situation dawned on you. The creatures cock was longer than your thigh and just as thick. It made sense with the rest of his towering form but you were suddenly feeling very exposed under the beast’s hungry glare. He seemed to notice your hesitation and cupped your face in his palm, tilting your head to look at him. “Do you fear me?” Despite it all, you shook your head. Embarrassed? Yes. But not afraid.
“I shall endeavour to be as gentle as I can. You are to bear my calfs after all, it is my duty to treat you well.”
Before his words could register, the creatures head was between your thighs. He had ripped away the fabric there and his thick, rough tongue was lapping at your folds like a man starved. A cry of pleasure escaped your lips as you threw back your head. Your thighs clenched around his head, seemingly spurring him on. His tongue began to push deeper, curling inside you and igniting every nerve in your body. A single finger, large enough that you could wrap your hand around it, began to toy with your clit, rolling in gentle circles as you struggled to hold back wanton moans. He seemed to revel in the sounds you made, thrusting his tongue deeper inside with every whine of pleasure until you were rocking your hips desperately against his snout.
You were sure you were about faint from the overwhelming sensation of it all when the creature finally pulled his head back to see his work. You were a drooling mess against the table, slick and stretched open all for him. Still not open enough to take him inside you. A chuckle echoed above you, as though he had read your panicked look. “No, not here. Once we are home, my love, I will have you completely. But for now…” He picked you up with one hand around your waist, the other positioning his cock beneath you. “For now I have other ways to fill you.”
He began pulling you up his length, fucking in between your thighs and coating himself in your slick. He groaned deeply as he used your body to pleasure himself as if you truly belonged to him alone. You couldn’t help but let out your own whimpers of pleasure as your clit rubbed against his rough skin, getting wetter with every thrust. You found yourself wishing he were inside you, his scent, his growls, it all seemed so right, so familiar and you wanted to belong to this great beast that had captured you. You pressed your thighs together as tight as you could as he man-handled like you were nothing more than a toy made just for him. “That’s it, just like that..” he groaned. The muscles under the creature’s soft belly tightened and you knew he was close. “When we’re home I’m going to keep you full every minute of the day. I’ve spent too long without you. I’m going to hold you on my cock and fill you with my calfs until you’re stretched and moulded to my shape. No one else will be able to have you. You’re mine.” Without warning, he pinned you back to the desk and pressed his engorged tip against your entrance, stretching you around him. He let out a deep, echoing growl as he released inside you, filling you so much that you felt his cum leaking out of you and down your thighs.
The Minotaur didn’t seem satisfied to let this happen. He ran his fingers over your thigh and pushed the residue back inside you, fucking it deep into your stomach. You cried out with each thrust of his fingers, rocking your hips and riding out your waves of pleasure. It felt so good to be full of him.
You stayed there a while as he kissed and lapped at your skin, nuzzling into your neck and plugging you full with his fingers. He mumbled under his breath sweet nothings about how he would take you home, back where you belong. How he would keep you full and satisfied in every way. How you would give him such strong and beautiful young. How life would be so sweet now that his mate had been found. You tried to focus on his words, but they bought such a familiar peace that you found yourself lulled into sleep, breathing him in as you snuggled into his warm fur.
“That’s it my love, rest now. I will find you again soon”
***
It was the librarian who found you in the morning. He had gotten some idea of what was going to happen that night but was honestly surprised by the sheer amount of fluid involved. He tried his best to keep his eyes shut as he threw your blanket over your body and placed you back in your reading chair. The book he had lent you was open on the floor, displaying an etching of the Minotaur and his lover in an intimate embrace. The librarian quickly pushed it shut, not wanting to be anymore invasive into your private life. He thought about waking you, there were so many things he needed to tell you before the creature came back to claim his mate. But for now, you looked so peaceful.
He locked the library door, flipping the sign to closed and letting you get your rest.
DogWitch notes: a part two may be in order if you like??
Part two <3
#monster x reader#monster nsft#monster imagine#nsft#monster smut#monster fucker#minotaur x human#minotaur x reader#monster x human#size difference#smut#minotaur
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