#he ran away from his home planet
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u-friend-or-ufo · 1 month ago
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My guy looks like an Alien that crashed landed on Earth and trying to blend in with the crowed.
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lord-shitbox · 2 years ago
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one day ill post an essay about sugihara's praise kink but for now you guys gotta trust im right. say 1 nice thing to this man and he is on his knees
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stingerking · 1 year ago
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Kirby OCs cause yes
Reblog and put in the tags your characters’ angsty backstories. 
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starkwlkr · 3 months ago
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Can I request some hung with old man Logan? Something domestic or soemthing like reader baking for him. I love reading fics of Logan and reader being an old married couple
just the two of us | old man logan
an: anon ily for this request old man Logan needs more love <3 credit to pinterest for the gif btw this doesn’t follow the logan storyline so i added laura hope that’s ok!! sorry if there’s an spelling mistakes!
reader and logan live in a nice little cozy home because i said so 😍
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“Taste.” You held the wooden spoon up to your husband’s mouth. Logan sighed, he knew you weren’t going to let him walk away without tasting the brownie batter so he licked the spoon.
For a while you had been craving brownies. While Logan was out working, you and Laura drove to the city to pick up the ingredients to make brownies. It was a fun small girls trip until it was time to come back home. Laura had helped you mix everything together until she got tired, she then decided to go up to her room to watch cartoons. You continued working on the brownies by yourself, that’s when Logan had arrived from work and now here you were giving him a taste test.
“So?” You waited for an answer.
“Bub, you are the best baker in this whole town, city, state, planet.” Logan was going to dip his finger in the batter until you slapped it away.
“No! You’re going to wait like the rest of us, but I did tell Laura she could have the first brownie so just wait.” You told him.
Logan groaned and walked to the kitchen sink and washed his hands. “How was your day?”
Logan always asked about you day. It didn’t matter if you stayed home and read a book or did some gardening, he wanted to know.
“Good. Laura and I read a new book, we went to buy ingredients to make brownies and now my old man is home so I’d say it’s been a pretty good day.” You started to pour the brownie batter into a pan.
He didn’t mind you calling him old man, in fact, he loved it. Yeah, he wasn’t as young as he used to be, but you still loved him. You did admit to him many times that the grey hair was a turn on for you, which made him laugh.
Before you could react, Logan quickly dipped his finger in the batter and licked it clean.
“James! Don’t you dare do it again!” You scolded him. “These are for Laura too.”
“Come on, Laura’s not going to know that I ate some batter,” Logan leaned on the counter next to you. “I’ve been thinking. .”
“Oh no, that’s concerning.” You teased, finishing up with the brownies and putting them in the oven. You turned to face him then wrap your arms around him, bring him closer to you.
Logan chuckled at your response. “I’ve been thinking about taking you and Laura to some place nice. We can do that family shit you always talk about.”
You laugh at his choice of words. “Family shit, yeah that’s what I said.”
“Tomorrow then, I’ll drive us to the nicest place you’ve ever seen, get some ice cream, watch a movie, whatever you want.” Logan leaned in closer, you doing the same.
Before your lips could touch, Laura interrupted you asking about the brownies.
“Not yet, my love, I just put them in. I’ll call you when they’re done,” You pulled away making Logan groan. Laura nodded then ran up to her room. You noticed the frown on his face so you quickly gave him his after work kiss. “Don’t be so sad, old man, the neighbor’s kid wants to have a sleepover with Laura this weekend so it’ll just be the two of us.” Logan definitely liked the sound of that.
Half an hour later, the brownies were ready. Laura took several with her to her room while you and Logan took a plate outside to the patio where your porch swing was. It was a beautiful evening, it wasn’t too hot or too cold, and now you were ending the night beside your husband eating some homemade brownies.
“I think Laura is going to ask you for a dog.” You mention, scooting closer to Logan and laying your head on his chest. You held a brownie up to him so he could take a bite.
“No, we are not getting a dog.” He said.
“It would be nice, you know . . .” You bit the brownie after Logan.
“Is this why you made brownies? You want me to get you and Laura a dog?” He looked down at you.
“No, but can you?”
He sighed defeatedly. “I’ll think about it.”
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fans4wga · 1 year ago
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"The studios thought they could handle a strike. They might end up sparking a revolution"
by Mary McNamara
"If you want to start a revolution, tell your workers you’d rather see them lose their homes than offer them fair wages. Then lecture them about how their “unrealistic” demands are “disruptive” to the industry, not to mention disturbing your revels at Versailles, er, Sun Valley.
Honestly, watching the studios turn one strike into two makes you wonder whether any of their executives have ever seen a movie or watched a television show. Scenes of rich overlords sipping Champagne and acting irritated while the crowd howls for bread rarely end well for the Champagne sippers.
This spring, it sometimes seemed like the Hollywood studios represented by the Alliance of Motion Picture and Television Producers were actively itching for a writers’ strike. Speculations about why, exactly, ran the gamut: Perhaps it would save a little money in the short run and show the Writers Guild of America (perceived as cocky after its recent ability to force agents out of the packaging business) who’s boss.
More obviously, it might secure the least costly compromise on issues like residuals payments and transparency about viewership.
But the 20,000 members of the WGA are not the only people who, having had their lives and livelihoods upended by the streaming model, want fair pay and assurances about the use of artificial intelligence, among other sticking points. The 160,000 members of the Screen Actors Guild-American Federation of Television and Radio Artists share many of the writers’ concerns. And recent unforced errors by studio executives, named and anonymous, have suddenly transformed a fight the studios were spoiling for into a public relations war they cannot win.
Even as SAG-AFTRA representatives were seeing a majority of their demands rejected despite a nearly unanimous strike vote, a Deadline story quoted unnamed executives detailing a strategy to bleed striking writers until they come crawling back.
Days later, when an actors’ strike seemed imminent, Disney Chief Executive Bob Iger took time away from the Sun Valley Conference in Idaho not to offer compromise but to lecture. He told CNBC’s David Faber that the unions’ refusal to help out the studios by taking a lesser deal is “very disturbing to me.”
“There’s a level of expectation that they have that is just not realistic,” Iger said. “And they are adding to the set of the challenges that this business is already facing that is, quite frankly, very disruptive.”
If Iger thought his attempt to exec-splain the situation would make actors think twice about walking out, he was very much mistaken. Instead, he handed SAG-AFTRA President Fran Drescher the perfect opportunity for the kind of speech usually shouted atop the barricades.
“We are the victims here,” she said Thursday, marking the start of the actors’ strike. “We are being victimized by a very greedy entity. I am shocked by the way the people that we have been in business with are treating us. I cannot believe it, quite frankly: How far apart we are on so many things. How they plead poverty, that they’re losing money left and right, when giving hundreds of millions of dollars to their CEOs. It is disgusting. Shame on them. They stand on the wrong side of history at this very moment.”
Cue the cascading strings of “Les Mis,” bolstered by images of the most famous people on the planet walking out in solidarity: the cast of “Oppenheimer” leaving the film’s London premiere; the writers and cast of “The X-Files” reuniting on the picket line.
A few days later, Barry Diller, chairman and senior executive of IAC and Expedia Group and a former Hollywood studio chief, suggested that studio executives and top-earning actors take a 25% pay cut to bring a quick end to the strikes and help prevent “the collapse of the entire industry.”
When Diller is telling executives to take a pay cut to avoid destroying their industry, it is no longer a strike, or even two strikes. It is a last-ditch attempt to prevent le déluge.
Yes, during the 2007-08 writers’ strike, picketers yelled noncomplimentary things at executives as they entered their respective lots. (“What you earnin’, Chernin?” was popular at Fox, where Peter Chernin was chairman and chief executive.) But that was before social media made everything more immediate, incendiary and personal. (Even if they have never seen a movie or TV show, one would think that people heading up media companies would understand how media actually work.)
Even at the most heated moments of the last writers’ strike, executives like Chernin and Iger were seen as people who could be reasoned with — in part because most of the executives were running studios, not conglomerations, but mostly because the pay gap between executives and workers, in Hollywood and across the country, had not yet widened to the reprehensible chasm it has since.
Now, the massive eight- and nine-figure salaries of studio heads alongside photos of pitiably small residual checks are paraded across legacy and social media like historical illustrations of monarchs growing fat as their people starve. Proof that, no matter how loudly the studios claim otherwise, there is plenty of money to go around.
Topping that list is Warner Bros. Discovery Chief Executive Davd Zaslav. Having re-named HBO Max just Max and made cuts to the beloved Turner Classic Movies, among other unpopular moves, Zaslav has become a symbol of the cold-hearted, highly compensated executive that the writers and actors are railing against.
The ferocious criticism of individual executives’ salaries has placed Hollywood’s labor conflict at the center of the conversation about growing wealth disparities in the U.S., which stokes, if not causes, much of this country’s political divisions. It also strengthens the solidarity among the WGA and SAG-AFTRA and with other groups, from hotel workers to UPS employees, in the midst of disputes during what’s been called a “hot labor summer.”
Unfortunately, the heightened antagonism between studio executives and union members also appears to leave little room for the kind of one-on-one negotiation that helped end the 2007-08 writers’ strike. Iger’s provocative statement, and the backlash it provoked, would seem to eliminate him as a potential elder statesman who could work with both sides to help broker a deal.
Absent Diller and his “cut your damn salaries” plan, there are few Hollywood figures with the kind of experience, reputation and relationships to fill the vacuum.
At this point, the only real solution has been offered by actor Mark Ruffalo, who recently suggested that workers seize the means of production by getting back into the indie business, which is difficult to imagine and not much help for those working in television.
It’s the AMPTP that needs to heed Iger’s admonishment. At a time when the entertainment industry is going through so much disruption, two strikes is the last thing anyone needs, especially when the solution is so simple. If the studios don’t want a full-blown revolution on their hands, they’d be smart to give members of the WGA and SAG-AFTRA contracts they can live with."
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toomanystoriessolittletime · 8 months ago
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Summary: Not wanting to face Joel after you found out that you're pregnant, you leave the Boston QZ to live with Bill and Frank. Almost four years pass before you can't hide from him anymore, letting him finally know why you ran from him all these years back.
Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader
Wordcount: 6.7k
Rating: E
Warnings: angst, unplanned pregnancy, secret pregnancy, secrets, fluff, trust issues, Joel being Joel, making up, kissing, age gap (not specified but it's around 15 years), smut (unprotected sex), mentions of alcohol, Joel really is bad at feelings, but he's trying, Girl Dad Joel Miller, happy end
A/N: if these two had a relationship status it would be "it's complicated" Another WiP done! So now I am allowed to think about Biker Raider Joel for a moment, right?
follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics
Pedro Masterlist || Joel Masterlist || Main Masterlist
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“You know you’ll have to face him at some point,” Frank had a fond smile on his lips as he sat in his wheelchair next to you. He was watching Bill who let himself chase across the yard of his picture perfect post apocalypse home. 
Nobody would expect that just down the street, outside of the fence the world as you knew it had ended. 
“I know,” you sighed. 
“He asks for you every time he’s here. If we had seen you, if we knew where you are. He’s gonna understand,” Frank said and you scoffed. 
“He’s not gonna care. He has Tess and… he’s not…” you shook your head, searching for the words, “he’s not the man I fell in love with.”
“We all can change,” Frank said, reaching over to squeeze your hand. 
“Bill is the best example for that. Could you have imagined him like that when you showed up here three years ago?”
You watched Bill play with your daughter, Ava, playing catch. 
“Joel is not like that. He was like that. Before. But that part of him died long ago.”
You sat in silence for a while, just watching Bill and Ava, trying to soak it all in. It would never be like that again and you were already dreading having to explain all of this to her. 
“I’m gonna miss you,” you whispered, fighting against the tears as you looked at Frank. He smiled softly at you before he came closer, kissing your forehead. 
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Four years earlier
You knew he could tell when you were lying. He would know with one look at you that you were full of shit telling him that this was not working for you anymore. Whatever this between you was.
Joel and you had known each other since before the outbreak. You had started babysitting Sarah to earn some extra money while you were finishing you degree when she had just been nine years old and you had moved in next door.
You had been there on outbreak day. Next door, still living at home to take care of your sick father. You would never get the picture of his infected body lunging at you out of your head the night the world changed. 
You and Joel… You didn’t know what Joel and you were exactly. 
You loved Joel, you knew that. And you were pretty sure he loved you too. You just wanted… more. Most people did not allow themselves to love so openly anymore. And in Joel’s case? Losing Sarah had changed him. After fifteen years the man who had been Sarah’s father was gone, replaced by a man that still had his face, but was missing the warmth and comfort Joel Miller had once provided. 
You could see it in glimpses, whenever his hand would rest on your back when he passed by. When he fell asleep in your arms deep in the night. When he kissed your forehead before he headed out for work. 
Loving Joel Miller was easy. 
Being loved by him was close to impossible. 
You never really labelled your relationship, mostly because you did not think of it as important. You trusted him more than any other person on this planet. It’s why you ignored the way he had started looking at Tess. It’s why you did not question him when he stayed away at night. You ignored it all, opening your arms for him when he chose to come home to you, letting him in your bed just to feel close to him. To feel something. 
The jealousy was killing you slowly, making you reckless when you let him have his way with your body. 
But once you had missed your period the first month, and then the second, you knew that there was only one possible answer to your dilemma. You had never been late before. A ration card swapped for a twenty year old pregnancy test had your worst fears come true. 
You were pregnant with Joel Miller’s child. 
Fifteen years after you both buried his daughter. The daughter he never got over losing. 
You could already see his reaction. The eyes you loved so much empty before he would tell you to deal with it. 
You could not face his anger or disappointment, but mostly you could not face him not caring. So you packed your little belongings once he had left you in the morning, sneaking out of your bed without a word.
You did not leave a note, just fled the QZ, making your way over to Bill and Frank, hoping your friendship with Frank would make them take you in. 
Of course Bill hadn’t want to, but once he saw your stomach swell (and tasted the sweets you baked in his kitchen) he had put all his work into making the house next door into your home. 
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“Mama, can we go get Strawbebbies?” you chuckled, holding her hand as you walked with her on your daily walk by the fence. 
“Strawberries, baby,” you tried to correct her. Ava pouted at you, her dark curls swinging in the wind, her brown eyes so much like her fathers. 
“That’s what I said!” she put her little hands on her hips and you smiled. 
She was definitely her father’s daughter.
“Okay, baby. Let’s get some Strawbebbies,” you picked her up, making her shriek with laughter. Once again you were glad you made the decision to come here. She could grow up like a child was supposed to. 
Even though now that Bill and Frank were gone it was getting kind of lonely. You had all enjoyed a last dinner together before Bill and Frank had tucked Ava in for one last time and read her a story. 
You had tried to keep the tears at bay as Bill had reminded you of the folder full of instructions of how to take care of things around here for you. 
After dinner you had walked them to the gate, opening the fence for them as they took their last walk. You had watched them until they had disappeared into the dark woods before you made your way back to their house. You had cleaned the dishes and tidied everything up, before with a heavy heart, you had turned off all the lights and closed the door behind you before you walked to your house, allowing yourself to cry yourself to sleep as you sat on the floor next to the bed of your daughter, watching her sleep. 
That night was almost three months ago. The days were getting shorter, the nights colder. You’d have enough firewood for this winter but come spring you would have to find a way to make more. 
You had just finished making breakfast for Ava when the motion detector alarmed you that someone was at the gate. You froze, telling Ava to eat her fruit salad before you made your way downstairs to check out what was happening. 
Your heart was pounding against your chest, once you noticed his face. 
Joel Miller. 
And a…. Teenage girl?
The gate swung open after he put in the code and you allowed yourself fifteen seconds to panic. You knew this day would come. The day after Bill and Frank had gone you had checked the basement, finding that Bill had put on 80’s music, the distress signal. 
Even though you had turned it off immediately deep down you knew he would show up at some point. 
You just did not think it would be that soon. 
You grabbed your gun, checking if it was loaded before you made your way back upstairs. You did not think you would need it, but it was better to be prepared. 
“Ava? Remember when Uncle Bill played hide and seek with you and showed you the best place to hide?” you asked, hiding the gun in the back of your jeans as you got to your kitchen. She nodded. 
“I want you to hide there until I come and get you,” you said. 
“Hide?” she asked. You nodded, kissing her cheek. 
“Take Sluggi with you,” you smiled. Sluggi was the stuffed plush slug Bill had gotten for her. She nodded and ran out of the kitchen and upstairs, You heard her door to her room close and took a deep breath, calming yourself. 
You knew this day would come. You knew one day you would have to face Joel Miller and you knew you would have to face his reaction. 
You never regretted your decision to leave. Life has definitely been better here. That did not mean you had just stopped loving him, no matter how much he had hurt you in the past. 
Stepping towards your front door you could see him walk towards Bill and Frank’s house. 
You closed your eyes, taking a calming breath before you opened the door and stepped out. 
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His head snapped towards you once he heard the door opening, eyes widening for a split second before he pulled the girl that was with him behind his back. 
He was protecting her. 
“What are you doing here? Where are Bill and Frank?” he asked, his voice low. 
“They’re dead. Frank got worse and… he couldn’t…” you shook your head, lost of words. He just looked at you before he shook his head, trying to put in words what he wanted. 
“I just… We need some…” he took a deep breath, looking up at you, a million emotions playing over his face. 
“Are you hungry?” you asked the girl behind him. 
“Starving,” she replied and you smiled a little.
“There’s some fruit salad left on the kitchen counter if you want?” you asked. She stepped around Joel and he looked at her. 
“It’s safe. There’s… there’s no one there,” you lied. He gave her a nod before she walked past you into your home. 
It had been years since you’ve been alone with him. He did not really change. His hair maybe a little grayer, the lines around his mouth a little deeper, but he was still Joel Miller. 
“You left,” he said. 
“I did.”
“Why?”
You took a deep breath. You looked past him towards the house the girl had walked in, hoping your little girl continued to hide. Knowing her she had was working on her puzzle. She would be okay for a moment. 
You knew she was safe. You just needed a little moment alone. 
“You can have some fruit salad too. I am going to get some vegetables for dinner,“ you gave him a nod, before you turned around and walked towards your garden, ignoring him as he called after you. 
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With a basket full of salad, cucumbers and some tomatoes you pushed the door of your house open. Joel was sitting on the stairs, across the door, already looking at you. 
The girl walked past the both of you towards the living room, an apple in her hand she was munching on. 
„This is so fucking weird,“ she shook her head and you snorted while Joel hissed at her. 
„What? It is weird,“ she said, her head turned towards him. 
You smiled a little as you looked at her, before you walked towards the kitchen, setting the basket down. You had to go up to check on Ava. 
And you had to talk to Joel.
You couldn’t hide her from him, even though you wanted to do nothing more than that. 
You took a deep breath when he walked into the kitchen. 
„Is it okay if Ellie takes a shower?“ He asked, knowing that there was warm water around town. 
„That’s her name. Ellie,“ he clarified.
„Oh. Of course, yeah,“ you nodded and Ellie walked in, snorting as she looked up at Joel. 
„You could use one too dude,“ she said and you had to fight hard against the grin as you watched the look on Joel’s face. 
You were about to offer her to show her to the bathroom when you heard a door upstairs click open, followed from little footsteps, your eyes widening. Joel frowned, his hand immediately searching for his gun, his arm putting Ellie behind himself. 
He raised his gun, taking a step forward as you ran around the counter, the knife you had put out to cut the salad now in your hand. 
„Gun down,“ you hissed and his head snapped to you, his eyes widening when he saw the knife in your hand. You stood in front of him. 
„I will not repeat myself, put the gun down, right now or I will put this knife in your thigh,“ you fingers flexed around the handle of the knife. The footsteps came closer as you kept eye contact with Joel until he slowly lowered his gun. You nodded at him once you saw him put the gun back to wherever it came from, then looked at Ellie who was looking at you with wide eyes, before you let the knife fall down to the floor just in time as Ava jumped the last step down, rounding the corner. 
„Potty?“ She whispered shyly, looking up at you with big eyes and you sighed, before you nodded, the people behind you forgotten as you picked your daughter up. You risked a glance at Joel as you turned towards the stairs, your daughter in your arms.
His lips parted as if he wanted to say something, before you practically ran up the stairs. 
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„Who is the man mommy?“ Ava asked as she was finished, washing her hands like you taught her, making as many bubbles as possible as she rubbed her hands together. 
You sucked your bottom lip in as you watched her, your hand brushing over her soft hair. 
„That is an old Friend of mommy,“ you explained, and she nodded. 
„And the girl?“ She asked. 
„That is a friend of him, I think. I am not sure.“
She finished washing her hands and you handed her the towel, her little face full of concentration as she dried her hands, making you smile.
You got down on your knees in front of her, your hands on her shoulders. 
„Do you think she’s gonna play with me?“ She asked, hopeful.
„We can ask her,“ you said with a smile.
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You weren’t prepared for the sight in your kitchen when you came downstairs. Joel was standing at the counter, the sleeves of his shirt rolled back as he cut the tomatoes with the knife you had threatened with him not only ten minutes ago. 
He didn’t look up as you entered the room, but Ellie did. You looked between them warily. 
„I’m Ava,“ your daughter chirped and you took a deep breath, Joel still not looking up. Ellie looked at him with a frown, before she sighed, rolling her eyes, and walked towards you.
„I’m Ellie,“ she said and smiled a little and bend down to her knees. Ava looked first at her, then at you. 
„Ellie, do you like sea turtles?“ You asked and the girl looked at you. 
„Uh…. I guess?“ She said and you smiled. 
„Because Ava loves them. Her whole room is full of them,“ you said and saw interest flicker in her eyes.
„Can I see?“ Ellie asked and you nodded. 
„You wanna show Ellie your sea turtles?“ You asked Ava and she nodded eagerly. 
„Awesome,“ Ellie said, taking Ava’s hand before you could offer to show them, the girls already walking upstairs towards Ava's room. 
Which left you alone in the kitchen with….
„How old is she?“ Joel asked, still not looking at you as you turned to face him. He grabbed the cucumber after he had used the knife to put the tomatoes in the bowl you had prepared for the salad, beginning to slice them. 
You took a deep breath. 
„She turned three last month,“ you said, watching him nod slowly, the knife hitting the cutting board the only noise in the room. 
„She has my eyes,“ he finally said and you sucked your bottom lip in, nervous. 
„Yeah she has,“ you agreed and he finally looked up at you, setting the knife down, his hands spread out on the counter, resting his whole weight on them. 
„Why didn’t you tell me?“ He asked, his voice quiet. 
„I didn’t know how. Joel…. You were barely acknowledging me outside of when you were inside of me. You spend all your time with Tess doing god knows what. How would you have reacted if I told you that I was pregnant? You never even acknowledged what we…“ you stoped yourself, shaking your head. 
„You should have told me. I could have…“ he stopped himself, searching for what to say and you looked at him, waiting. 
„I could have helped you. I would have….“ He shook his head, his hands shaking. 
„I’m gonna need a moment. Can you watch after Ellie?“ He asked and you nodded, confused and he nodded back before he walked past you and out of the house. 
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You just didn’t think it would be almost two days before he got back. You were outside in Bill’s garden, letting the girls help you pick everything that was ready from the garden when you noticed him walk towards the house. 
You knew he was still inside the little locked up town Bill had made his safe haven. None of the alerts had went off, indicating he had left. And yeah you could have searched after him, but what good would it have done?
You’ve known him from almost twenty years, and you knew that he needed time to process certain things. 
He hadn’t talked to anyone in almost a year after the outbreak and what happened to Sarah. 
„Look what the cat dragged in,“ Ellie said as she spotted him and Ava perked up, her little head turning towards where Ellie was looking. 
Joel nodded at the girls before he looked at you. 
The sun was already setting and you had dinner prepared inside. 
„How about we have some dinner and then Ellie can read you some more of the story you started yesterday?“ You asked and both girl smiled at you. Ava ran past Joel who looked after her as she disappeared into the house, Ellie following her. 
„Next time you ditch me, at least tell me?“ She glared at him before she walked back into the house. He sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. 
„Can we talk?“ He asked. 
„After dinner?“ You said, getting up and grabbing the basked full of fresh vegetables. 
„Yeah. Yeah okay,“ he nodded and you walked towards the house, giving him a hesitant smile when he grabbed the basket from you and walked inside after you. 
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It was two hours later that you found yourself on the left corner of your couch, your legs tucked under you, a glass of wine in your hand. 
Because this conversation needed some alcohol. 
And not only because of what you were about to talk about, but because of the man who was sitting on the other side of the couch, similar glass of wine in his hand. 
Because he looked so damn good.
He had showered while you put the girls to bed after dinner, the whole scene feeling so domestic. Like a dream you had many many times before when you were still dreaming. 
Dreaming of a normal future. 
Dreaming of a normal life. 
Dreaming about how it would feel like if Joel Miller loved you back. 
Because no matter how much he may have hurt you in the past, you just could not stop loving him. 
„I’m sorry,“ he whispered after a while and you turned your head to look at him, his eyes already on you. 
„I’m shit at talking about those things….“ He stopped.
„Those things meaning feelings?“ You helped and he groaned. 
„Yeah. Always sucked at it. Even before….“ 
He sighed. 
„Sarah would be so angry with me with how I treated you,“ he whispered and your eyes softened. You could count on one hand how often he had brought Sarah up ever since she died. 
And while you thought you could understand him in the past, you loved her like yours after all, now that you had Ava, you realised that loosing her would kill you. 
It would be something you could never come back from. 
But he did. 
„I never cheated on you. I know you thought I did, can’t blame your for it. Tess was just…. Fuck, how do I explain this?“ He sighed, his fingers rubbing over his chin. 
„I never deserved you. You’re too fucking good for me. For everyone really. Because even after the whole world went to shit, you still had some kindness left for everyone around you. I know how much you hated what we did in the beginning. And I hated myself for putting you through it. I hated myself for putting you through everything I did to you since the moment Sarah died…“ he said and you could see his eyes watering. 
„Can’t blame you for hating me and leaving. And not telling me about….“
„Joel….“ You said, setting your glass down and getting closer towards him, your hand reaching for his. Slowly he turned his hand so you could put yours in it, his fingers wrapping around your hand softly. 
„I’m not gonna lie and tell you that it’s okay. Cause I was hurting. You were hurting me. Every time you left in the morning without a word. Every time you passed out drunk and drugged after you came back. It was like living with a ghost and it was killing me. That was the reason I decided to leave when I found out. I could…. I couldn’t bring a child into this. And I knew I wanted her before I even met her. Even though it seems crazy to bring a child into this world. But… She was half you. And the thought that there was even the possibility that you didn’t wanted her….“ You took a deep breath. 
„Honestly? I can’t tell you how I would have reacted. I was… I was really fucked up in the weeks before you left. I was taking too many drugs. Drank too much. Got too fucking reckless. But that changed when you left,“ he said and squeezed your hand. 
„Not right away. It might have gotten worse first but… I got better. Not perfect, but better. And I… Fuck I even talked through some shit with someone. Made me realise I never even told you how much I love you,“ he said and you were pretty sure you stopped breathing as he looked at you, a small smile tilting his lips up. 
„Pretty sure I fell for you the first time you walked through my door wearing that pretty baby blue dress. Even though you were way too young for me. Still are. But…. I hope you knew, know. I really fucking love you,“ he said and you felt a tear running down your cheek. 
„Can you tell me about her? About Ava?“ He asked before you could form an answer to his confession. And so instead you told him. 
You told him about how you craved strawberries your whole pregnancy. How Bill traded one of his guns for the seeds from Tess.
You told him that she only slept through the night in the beginning, when Bill put her to sleep. 
You told her how much she reminded you of Sarah when she smiled at you. 
You told her how every time you looked at her you saw him. 
Hours went by where you two talked, you ending up leaning against Joel’s side, his arm around you. His fingers brushing over your arm, his other hand still holding yours. His lips brushing over your skin when he told you about how Ellie ended up at in his care. 
How he wanted to take her to Wyoming to search for his brother who might know how to find the fireflies. 
„Do you know where he is?“ You asked and he shrugged. 
„Not exactly. I know he messaged me from the Cody tower, so that’s where we’ll be going,“ he mumbled and you nodded. 
„We could take Bill’s truck,“ you said and he stilled. You looked up at him. 
„We?“ He asked and you chuckled, sitting yourself up so you were facing him, your hand now on his cheek. 
„You really think I’m gonna let you go now?“ You asked with a smile. 
And then you finally kissed him. 
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It was decided that you would leave within the next 5 days, giving you enough time to make a list (You always made lists) of everything you had to pack. 
Which was a lot. Getting four people across the country on a trip that hopefully would be just like you remembered road trips to be, took a lot of supplies. 
And while you were preoccupied deciding which food was best to take, Joel had asked you if he could spend some time with Ava. He wanted to get to know her. And of course, you agreed. Watching him, Ellie and Ava walk towards the garage where they spend hours doing god knows what. 
It was almost dark outside when they walked back in, your heart melting as you watched Joel carry a very sleepy Ava inside who told you all about how seatbelts where very scary, something you would make sure to ask Joel about as you took her upstairs, putting her to bed. 
The days went by quickly like that.
Joel quickly became Ava’s favourite person which could have to do with the fact, that she was always allowed to sit on his shoulders. Ellie had been confused, yet delighted at the change in the grumpy man she had left the QZ with. 
He even got his Dad jokes out, making the teenager groan in mock annoyance throughout the day. Ellie also spend a lot of time with you, wanting to learn everything you offered to teach her. Starting from making protein bars for the trip down to how to properly braid her hair. 
Even though she preferred you doing it. 
You got the impression that she never really had anyone how just… listened to her or wanted to spend time with her. She told you she grew up in FEDRA School and that her mother had died while giving birth. 
She had no family and her best friend (though you got the impression Riley had been more than just a friend) had died not that long ago. 
That the only thing she had left in life was her purpose to save the world. Joel had told you that she was immune, Ellie showing you the healed scars to confirm it. 
„You know that that’s not the only thing you have left, right?“ You asked her, sitting on the porch next to her, enjoying one last sunset, watching Joel and Ava play soccer. Her little feet chasing after Joel with happy squeals. 
„What do you mean?“ Ellie asked and you looked at her with a smile. 
„You have us, Ellie. You think we just gonna let you go?“ You asked and she stubbornly shook her head. 
„I have to do this. It’s my purpose. I have to save the world,“ she said and looked away from you. 
„Are you saying this because you feel that way, or because someone told you so?“ You asked and she looked at you. 
„Because it should be your decision what to do and what not. And… think about it, even if they are somehow able to make a cure out of your blood, do you really think they will be able to make enough to make a vaccine for everyone? Who will decide who gets it? And if they end up deciding on giving it to everyone…. There are so many bad people out there. Do they deserve to be saved too?“ You asked and you could see her thinking about your words and you smiled softly at her. 
„Even if you don’t like hearing it, your a kid Ellie. You should grow up and live first before you make a decision like that. You don’t even know how they would get whatever they needed from your blood. If I remember correctly Cordyceps grow in the brain, what if they have to get into your brain to get out whatever they need?“ You said and her eyes widened. 
„But Marlene….“ She whispered and you reached over her, taking her hand. 
„I don’t know how well you know Marlene, but I’ve known her for more than ten years. I know how she manipulates people to get what she wants. You wouldn’t even notice it,“ you said and she sighed. 
„I’m gonna think about it,“ she said finally and you gave her a small smile. 
„That’s all I ask about. Now how about you get upstairs and take one last long hot shower before we are on the road for days?“ You asked and she nodded, standing up and turning away from you to walk inside the house before she turned back to you and hugged you quickly.
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After saying good night to Ellie later you walked towards your daughters room, her little suitcase for her toys laying open next to her bed, waiting for Sluggi to be put into the next morning. She was already in bed, Joel sitting on the floor next to her, reading to her. 
You wished you could take a picture of this. Unfortunately the Polaroid camera had broken earlier this year. 
„Mommy!“ A tired Ava smiled as she saw you, her arms raised towards you. Joel looked up and smiled at you as you walked over, climbing into the bed behind your daughter, pulling her into your arms. 
„What story is Joel reading you?“ You asked. 
„The little mermaid,“ she said and you found Joel’s eyes. You had been thinking about it for the last days now. Telling her who Joel really is. He slipped into your life like the missing piece, the man you had fallen in love with all these years back seemingly falling right back into his role as being the best father there ever could be. 
So before you could talk yourself out of it you said
„Your sister loved that one too.“
Joel gulped, his eyes growing sad for a moment, before he looked at Ava. 
„I have a sister?“ She asked you, her eyes big.
„Mmmh…. Her name was Sarah. She watched the movie every single night before she went to bed,“ you explained and Ava pursed her lips in an ooooh motion. 
„There was a movie?“ She asked in awe.
„Oh yeah there was. And a cassette with the music. Can’t remember how often she made me listen to it“ Joel said and smiled softly. 
„Where is Sarah?“ Ava asked and your smile went sad. 
„She’s where Uncle Bill and Uncle Frank are. Watching over us,“ you explained and she hummed. 
„I wish I could hug her,“ she whispered and you nodded, tears in your eyes, squeezing her against your chest, your hand reaching out Joel’s hand finding yours as you kissed her forehead, looking at him who had tears in his eyes. 
„Me too baby. Me too,“ you whispered before taking a deep breath.
„You know Joel is her daddy,“ you finally said and she looked at you. 
„He is?“ She asked and you nodded. 
„I bet he is the best daddy,“ she sighed and you chuckled at Joel’s cheeks turning pink. 
„Yeah he is. What would you say if I tell you that Joel is your daddy too?“ You asked and her big eyes looked at you first and then her head turned towards Joel. 
„My daddy?“ She asked and both you and Joel nodded with a smile, her smile getting wider, before she jawned.
„I always wanted a daddy,“ she whispered before her eyes dropped close. 
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You were walking down the stairs to Bill's basement after you showered, finding Joel checking if he could manage to take any more guns. The supplies had all been packed into the truck already, but he just couldn’t bring himself to leave anything of value behind. 
He looked up when he heard your footsteps, giving you a small smile. 
Walking over to him you were surprised when he reached for you, pulling you into his lap, one of his arms looped around you, his other hand on your cheek, his fingers brushing over your skin. 
„I didn’t know you were gonna tell her,“ he whispered and you smiled. 
„She deserves to know. I’m sorry I didn’t tell her sooner. If I would have stayed you wouldn’t have missed so much…“ he stopped you by kissing you softly. 
„None of that. We both know I would have fucked this up. I would have said some really fucked up things and hurt you even more. So, there’s nothing you have to be sorry for, okay?“ He looked at you, his eyes pleading. 
You released a long breath, bringing both of your arms up to cross behind his neck. 
„Have I told you lately that I love you, Joel Miller?“ You whispered with a small smile that he mirrored. 
„Don’t think so. But I don’t blame you, I gotta say it a lot more often than you to make up for all the years I didn’t tell you. I do love hearing it though. Love you,“ he mumbled before he kissed you again. His lips moving on top of yours slowly, his hand tilting your head up a little so he could deepen the kiss. 
With a little sigh you parted your lips for him, his tongue dipping into your mouth, a deep moan coming from him, his arm pulling you closer against him. 
There had been lots of making out in the last days, stolen kisses when the girls weren’t in the room, secret touches under the table while you had dinner. 
But you haven’t slept together. 
And you were ready. 
„Joel,“ you mumbled, parting from his lips. He hummed, his lips running down your jaw. 
„We aren’t gonna be alone for a while,“ you whimpered, your head tilting up to give his wandering lips some more space. 
„What are you proposing?“ He asked, playfully nibbling on your neck. 
„I’m proposing that you fuck me, Miller. Right here,“ you gasped when you felt his other hand slip between your legs. 
„Right here?“ He asked, his fingers over the seam of your slick panties. 
„Mmmmhh….“ You closed your eyes, biting your lip when he pushed the fabric to the side, his fingers dipping between you slick folds, lazily teasing you. 
„All that for me?“ He asked and you opened your eyes, crashing your lips against his. 
„It’s been almost four years Joel. Please don’t tease me,“ you whined and his eyes softened before he picked you up and set you down on the table behind him. Within the next minutes you were both naked, your hands in his hair as you kissed him as he stood between your parted legs, the heavy weight of his cock resting against your stomach. 
„Gonna need to prepare you,“ he hummed, his hands on your ass. You shook your head. 
„Please just fuck me. You know I can take it,“ you whined, one of your hands wrapping around his cock, making him hiss. He groaned, sucking your bottom lip between his before he slapped your hand away, his dark eyes fixed on yours as he held his hand out to you. Waiting. 
Feeling your whole body heat up you spit in his hand and the left corner of his mouth twitched. 
„My good girl,“ he praised you and you couldn’t stop whimpering. 
He brought his hand down to wrap it around his cock, coating it in your saliva, before he lined himself up. You had dripped on the table you were sitting on, more than ready to take him. 
„I love you,“ he whispered and you looked at him with a soft smile, your lips parting when he slowly pushed his cock into you. Filling you inch by inch, both of you starring into each others eyes. 
„Missed this,“ you moaned. 
„Missed you,“ you crossed your legs behind him, giving him a little push, his cock finally filing you up completely. 
„Fucking Perfect,“ he groaned kissing you again before he began to move, pumping into you slowly. 
You let yourself fall back down against the table, stretching your arms over your head, your back arching, your tits moving every time Joel fucked into you. 
He licked his fingers, bringing it down between your legs, his thrusts getting harder as he rubbed your clit, your pussy clenching around him. 
„Yes… Baby… Just like that….“ You moaned, your hands coming down to play with your tits. 
„You gonna be a good girl and cum for me?“ He asked, moving faster, his skin slapping against yours every time he moved.
Nodding, you moaned, your eyes rolling back as you came, your whole body shaking as he fucked you through it. 
„Shit….“ He groaned, both of his hands now coming to rest on either side of you as he leaned down, fucking into you deeply, chasing his own orgasm. 
„Want you to cum again,“ he grunted, kissing you, drilling his cock into you, the whole table moving over the floor. 
„Want you to cum inside me. Let me feel you,“ you whimpered, your hands in his hair, trying to meet his thrusts. 
„Fuck that is…. Not a good idea….“ He laughed and you grinned. 
„I don’t care. Wanna feel you. Cum for me, Joel. Cum inside me,“ you whispered and he groaned, fucking into you a half dozen times more before you felt him twitch inside of you, filling you, making you cum for a second time. 
Both out of breath you looked at each other before Joel leant down and kissed you. 
„Sleep in bed with me?“ You hummed against his lips. 
„As long as you let me,“ he answered against your lips before you both sneaked upstairs. 
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Against all odds after six days of a rather boring trip across the country you reached the radio tower in Cody. And two days later a group patrol of people on horses found you, asking you all kinds of questions before a man pulled the bandana that had been covering his face down, revealing Tommy Miller in the flesh. 
By now you were living in Jackson for almost a year. 
Ellie had decided to stay and live her life, the constant threat of someone looking for her still on the horizon, but it was decided that the town was not in immediate danger. Patrols kept an eye out for fireflies, but they haven’t spotted anyone. 
You were living a happy life all things considered. 
Ava went to pre school, Ellie went to normal school. They really became sisters in the last year, spending a lot of time together. 
Even though Ellie started to spend more and more time with a girl called Dina you suspected was more than just a friend. 
Joel was always working on improving the house. 
He had changed the most, back to the man he had been before the outbreak. Yes, he still was the protector when he needed to be, but most of the time he was just Joel. Your husband. 
„Yellow?“ He asked, holding the can of paint up.
You walked over to him with a smile, nodding.
„It’s a happy colour. I like happy colours,“ you shrugged and he chuckled, setting the can down on the floor before he put his arms around you, pulling you against his chest.
One of his hands came to rest on your growing belly, the baby inside kicking up a storm as if it could sense their dads hand, making you both smile. 
„Still think it’s gonna be a girl?“ You asked and he nodded, before he kissed you softly. 
„Think I’m meant to be surrounded by beautiful girls,“ he hummed before he kissed you again. 
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evilgwrl · 18 days ago
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Neighbour!Simon Riley x Reader
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Girl Next Door (Ten)
CW: PIV (no protection, use it irl), cream pies, angst, brief description of oral (f receiving), drama time!!!
P.S. this is kinda dooky my bad
Previous Chapter, Next Chapter
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Everything was white-hot, a strum of fulfilment working through every muscle, scorching blood pumping through your veins, constricting your breath with every knock against your cervix. Teeth indented your neck, crescent moons scarring the flesh with every breath that rang against your throat.
Simon was everywhere.
Whether it was hands gripping at your ass, kneading the flesh between over-worked palms, or his tongue licking at your neck, cleaning the peppered wounds he flourished into your skin, he was there.
Black face paint stained your chest, stygian stains tearing down your breasts with every drop of water, his eyes seizing all colour as his pupils dilated, lapping in the sight of you with every dip of his crusted lashes. He was almost feral, grunting with every deep thrust, enjoying the way you drew him in with every suck of your creamy cunt, every stutter of a breath that whispered against his ear, every splutter of your lungs that filled with water as your mouth held open over the spurting faucet.
His chest was swollen with pride, a sick sense of satisfaction running through him at your expression, your body docile against his grip as your eyes squeezed into crinkled slits. You were utterly fucked on his sheath, his hips pistoling into yours like it was his duty to pleasure you, to bring you to that high he was desperately chasing to feel.
Dark curls brushed against your crotch with every drive of his cock, your tender nipples against his aggravated skin, the skin that was torn from his preposterous labour. His fingers were cruel, toying at your clit with ease as you dug your fingernails into the chisel of his back, coarse muscles reacting to the touch.
You felt fuzzy; your mouth jutted open with a whine as your body succumbed to him, torturous rolls of pressure building in your stomach.
“I’ve missed feeling you around me,” he rasped, his voice splintered with frustration. Frustration that he hadn’t had a proper release since his departure, frustration that he was away from you, frustration that the man was catching feelings faster than he believed he should.
“Missed you,” you mewled, squeezing him coherently with your words, a guttural groan sounding from the man.
Your bodies melted into the water, colliding with each other’s limbs as Simon came inside you, hot spurts of come plugging your cunt with a grunt as he pulled out, a stutter of a breath sounding from you as your legs wobbled onto the ground, muscles spasming in retaliation.
Simon’s fingers were gentle, working the loofah over your relaxed state as your neck cocked. You were so supine around him. Why? Don’t you know what kind of person he is? How many people he’s killed?
“Simon?”
The Lieutenant cleared his throat, staring at you as you pushed his hand away from the same spot he had been rubbing for the last minute.
“Sorry, got lost in thought.”
You offered him a polite smile, pressing a kiss on the corner of his mouth before sudsing the sponge back up, your touch delicate as you ran over his bruises. Simon’s eyes slacked, consumed by nothing as he drifted into thought, enthralled in his work.
Gunpowder skinned his nose, staining his nostrils with the thickness of burnt flesh and stolen lives, the sound of begging and retaliation engorging his brain as he shoved you away, a harsh grunt leaving his lips as he shook off his head, stepping out of the steam.
“Simon? What – are you ok?”
“I have to go, Y/N.”
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Autumn had consumed your garden, the green rotting into a moulded brown, a dead stream of leaves scattered like a path to your front door. The air was thick with wet dirt and burnt coffee, a flurry of frogs making a home in one of your unused watering cans. The sky was angrier, often lashing out on the planet in the form of rain and thunder.
Time was going by quicker, the end of September reaching up to you as you crossed an ‘X’ over your calendar. It had been almost 3 weeks since you had spoken to Simon.
You had tried.
It began as chasing him out of the shower in nothing but a towel, your head dripping wet, which turned to you knocking on his door a day later with cookies again, availed by no answer. That turned into you sitting outside the front more in hopes of seeing him.
You didn’t.
You were confused at first, your heart aching slightly at the sudden switch between the man. You had taken it out on your garden, aggravated fists pummelling at the soil like a child throwing a tantrum. It wasn’t long until you summed it down to him not wanting anything serious and left it at that.
You were disappointed, hushing yourself to sleep on your satin pillow as you attempted to listen to any sound of him on the other side. You were also a big girl.
If he was that easy to lose, you never had him in the first place.
The fall air was heavy with familiarity as you piled into the busy parking lot, a swarm of pine trees greeting you, their leaves a vibrant display of orange and yellow, pointed outwards with desperation.
It was a little tradition you had kept for yourself: carving pumpkins.
Everything was crisp. There was an over-ripe stench of cinnamon consuming you from passing cider stalls with the sound of families bustling around with candied apples and hot drinks.
You spotted Tamara in the distance, her boyfriend Max next to her, hugging himself in an attempt for warmth as she tapped him on the shoulder, her hand waving frantically at you.
“Hello!” She cooed, pulling you into a needed hug. She smelt like pumpkin and vanilla, almost gagging you at how much she had drowned herself in perfume. Her hair matched the Autumn air, an earthy red catching your attention as you ran your fingers through the heated curls.
“New hair?” You asked, smiling brightly as you adjusted the scarf around your neck.
“Needed a change,” she said, wrapping her arm into Max’s, who began rambling about how he was going to make the best Jack-o-Lantern.
“Oh! I forgot to tell you; Louis is coming. Is that ok?”
The pit in your stomach coiled for a minute, a remembrance of the last time you saw him in that café with Simon before you nodded.
“Of course!”
Louis stepped out of his car, the bristle of a chill in the air reminding him of where he grew up as he tugged at his cashmere jumper, the blue colour leading him to stand out like a sore thumb until he saw you, a familiar shade adorning you.
His voice was soft as he greeted you, Max and Tamara immediately walking off to pick out their pumpkins.
“How have you been?”
“I’ve been well,” you say, gazing at the row of orange surrounding you, children running in between passing couples as you pointed to the fattest vegetables surrounding you.
“I didn’t mean to intrude when you were out with your boyfriend-“
“He’s not my boyfriend,” you correct, taking in how harsh your tone was before placing your hand on his shoulder, “You didn’t intrude on anything. I would – I would love to go out with you.”
It felt wrong to get all dolled up for someone else. Red stained your lips, and your teeth, as you rubbed at them aggressively in the mirror, a black silk dress falling from your skin elegantly. Your eyes were shaded with a fine liner, a smoky hue of brown on your lash line as you spritz your more expensive perfume for the occasion.
Louis was different, fancier, you suppose. His Jaguar skidded against the gravel, an irritated scowl on his face before he watched you peek through the window, an amused look on your face as you opened the front door.
“You look beautiful,” the man said, holding a bouquet of red roses in his hand, tied with a pearl string. You shared dinner over a bottle of Cabernet and ended it with his hand on your thigh, his engine roaring down your cul-de-sac with glee as you kissed him on the cheek.
“Thank you for tonight, I enjoyed it.”
It should have ended there. But it didn’t.
It felt wrong to get undressed for someone else. It felt wrong to feel someone else kiss against your pudgy clit and lap at your slick. It felt wrong to buck your hips to meet his, your chest groped with a layer of sweat from another man’s mouth.
Could he hear you? Did he care?
He did.
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thesassypadawan · 9 months ago
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Beloved Master (Unburnt Darth Vader x FemPadawanReader)
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Summary: After a traumatic series of events, you find yourself being held captive by the sith lord known as Darth Vader. Alone and unarmed, you wish so badly for your beloved master to be here with you. Be careful of what you wish for.
Warnings: 18+ (minors dni), because all the lovely smut.Size difference, hint of a breeding kink, and Vader’s big dick. Padawan reader is of age.
Notes:  The 'What If' Version: Beloved Master *Fragmented*
Part 2: Beloved Husband
This is a non-burnt Vader fic.  Everything is still intact and has been ‘enhanced’ by the dark side of the force.
“Now behave yourself, jedi, the lord will be with you shortly.” The male attendant sneered, taking great joy in your current predicament.
Standing there, wearing nearly nothing; you tried your best to maintain what little dignity you had left. You gave him a small nod and muttered a quick thanks, before stepping inside the room.
“Try not to have too much fun,” he chuckled darkly and closed the door behind him.
Hearing the locks hiss into place, you began to reflect on the events that led up to this moment.
It had only been a few nights ago that you stood in the temple’s meditation garden. Waiting patiently for your beloved master to return from an ‘emergency meeting’. When your private comlink was hailed, his voice ringing out from it. “Run. Run swiftly. Run to me.”
Everything was fragmented and hazy after that.
The night sky was orange. There were cries of agony and pain all around you. The temple, your home, was engulfed in flames.
You felt utterly hopeless. Worried horribly about your master. Completely devastated at the thought of not saying those words to him one last time.
You tried to run, but someone tugged hard on your arm. Yelling at you to come with them, to ignore his call. Something happened to that someone in a blaze of blue light.
You were no longer being pulled, but carried away from the chaos. Being whispered to that it was ‘all going to be okay, you’re safe’.
That’s when your whole world went dark.
When you awoke, you found yourself locked up in a holding cell. Dressed in the most ridiculous outfit you have ever seen. One that left very little to the imagination.
You did not remain there long. Soon after, the male attendant had arrived. He, along with a pair of clone troopers, then escorted you swiftly to their lord’s private quarters. Apparently, this Vader fellow wanted to have an audience with you rather badly.
It was with this grim thought in mind that the weight of your situation truly set in.
You were alone. Stuck on an unknown planet, which you could feel was entirely encompassed in the dark side of the force. You were without your saber, it’s comforting presence no longer hanging from your hip. And, most gravely, you were about to presumably meet a sith lord.
Scanning your surroundings, you hoped to find something you could possibly use to defend yourself. Unfortunately, there was nothing in the lavish bed chamber that would provide much help.
You heard the door behind you slide open and then close.
Swallowing hard, you tried to compose yourself. Your master had always said to keep your wits about you when facing down an enemy. To stay centered within the force. To keep your mind clear.
How you so wished he was here with you now.
“I am, padawan of mine.”
Your eyes grew wide. “Master?” You asked, your voice barely a whisper. “Is that really you?”
Not waiting for an answer, you quickly whirled around. Instantly, a wave of relief washed over you. Standing before you, a gentle smile on his face, was…
“It’s me”, Anakin muttered.
Without a second thought you ran to him. And he easily scooped you up into his strong arms.
Burying your face into his tunic; you finally let the hot tears flow free. “Ani, it was horrible!” You sobbed softly.
Stroking your hair, he gently swayed back and forth with you. “Ssh, it’s okay. It’s all over.”
You squeezed him tight and whimpered. “I thought I had lost you.”
“Hey, look at me.” Hooking two fingers under your chin, he tilted your face upwards. “We’re never going to lose each other.”
Placing his hand on your cheek, he wiped away a stray tear with his thumb. “I made sure that we will always be together…no matter what,” he said malevolently.
Hearing his tone, it was as if you were suddenly released from sort of spell. Anakin was no longer the same, in oh so many ways.
His entire form had changed. He once only stood a head and a half taller, and now he absolutely dwarfed you. His hands were huge. His muscles blown enormous. He looked like an absolute beast, with yellow eyes and a heavy dark aura to match.
Maker, help you. He was the sith lord and you were finding it hard to resist him.
“Ani,” you spoke slowly, reaching to place a tiny hand on his chiseled chest. “What have you done?”
“Nothing you need to concern yourself with, angel,” he replied nonchalantly. “I did what was necessary.”
Tightening his arm around your waist, he somehow pulled you in even closer. “You should be more worried about what I’m going to do to you in that outfit,” he whispered huskily.
A small squeak escaped you as you were suddenly swept off your feet and whisked over to the bed.
Trapped underneath him, it truly sunk in how utterly massive he had become…and how tiny you were in comparison. You shivered at the thought. Whether it was from fear or excitement, you weren’t quite sure.
“What is it, padawan?” He chuckled, hovering above menacingly. “Afraid of your master?”
You shuddered once more as Anakin brushed his clothed length against your inner thigh. Stars, he felt gigantic. “No, master,” you whimpered.
A wide grin spread across his handsome face. “Good, because this is where the fun begins.”
He crashed his lips into yours. The kiss was hungry and passionate. The kind that made you wrap your arms around his thick neck and desperately pulled him closer, deepening it.
You could hear a rumble of approval in his chest. The sound causes a warmth to spread throughout your entire body.
Parting for air, Anakin gave you a mischievous look before burying his face into your neck. He kissed and bit at the sensitive flesh. Making you purr. Marking you as his for all to see.
His hand, all the while, lazily slid down your form. Coming to rest on your breast, he cupped and gave it a firm squeeze. Eliciting a soft moan from you.
“I love the sounds you make for me,” he muttered against your skin.
“Ani,” you mewled, hands tangling in his golden curls.
“I wonder,” he murmured, his lips trailing down your body. “What kind you’ll make when I do this?”
“Kriff!” You cried out as his warm mouth wrapped around your nipple. Sucking and nibbling at it through the paper-thin fabric. Causing your back to arch, your hips glancing one another in a fiery touch. You both groaned.
“Or better yet,” he whispered, sitting back on his legs. “What delicious sound will escape you when I do this?” With the wave of his two fingers, Anakin used the force to…
You let out a frightened squeal as the meager clothes were torn from your form. Instinctively you tried to cover yourself up with your hands, but he easily captured them in his much large one.
Pinning your arms above your head, he playfully scolded. “Now, now, don’t be shy. Let me see that beautiful body, little one.”
That name, it made you shiver. You could feel the dampness and you both knew it had shot straight to your soaking core.
“Oh? You liked that didn’t you?” He taunted, running his other big hand up and down your leg.
Wriggling beneath him, your cheeks burned hot. “I-I did, master,” you replied weakly.
He laughed darkly at your embarrassment and gave your hip a firm squeeze. “Tell me, tiny padawan of mine, what else would you like?”
“Your cock,” you whimpered. “I would like your cock inside of me.”
“Are you sure about that?” He mocked, flashing you a smirk.
Anakin used the force once more. This time removing his own clothes. Revealing…
Your eyes widened and your mouth went dry. He was absolutely massive, a true monster. And yet, you wanted him oh so badly.
“Please!” You begged; your voice laced with need. “Want it!”
“I don’t know.” He laid his heavy cock on your pussy, dragging it slowly between your folds. “You were barely able to take me before I became like this. Aren’t you afraid of what will happen now?”
You moaned softly as you found yourself slipping into a haze. “Don’t care! Need it!”
Suddenly, he removed all friction. You were about to whine in protest, until you felt him lining himself up with your entrance.
“All right, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
In a single, fluid motion, he pushed inside of you.
The two of hissed together, as you took every thick inch.
“So tight,” he growled as he bottomed out.
“So big,” you mewled. Relishing how full it made you feel. How his tip was dangerously pressed against your cervix.
Hiking your thighs onto his hips, he snaps them forward. Pounding into you at a brutal pace. Giving you no time to adjust to his colossal size.
“A-Ani…” You slurred, eyes going crossed from the stretch. “S-So big, An-Ani…”
He groaned at seeing your tummy bulge every time he thrusted back into you. “Yes, so big and yet your tiny cunt is taking me so well. Tell me, hatari, how much do you love it?”
You could feel the heat beginning to build in your core, tugging at you. “I love it! Love it so much!”
“Needy little thing,” he grunted. “Be a good girl now, let me into that perfect womb of yours. Going to fill you up so full. Going to make you heavy with the heir to my new empire.”
“M-Master…” You could barely form a sentence; you were so overwhelmed.
With a few more deep thrusts, he breached past the tight rim. Getting exactly what he wanted. “That’s it, that’s my sweet padawan,” he cooed.
You could feel the tears of ecstasy running down your cheeks. Your pussy clenching around him from the extra stretch. You were so painfully close and Anakin could tell.
“Let go,” he panted. “We’ll cum together, just like always.”
You went crashing over the edge. Mind blanking as waves of pleasure rolled through you.
His cock twitched inside of you. Filling you to the brim and beyond with his seed. Making your stomach round.
Catching your breath. Smiling warmly at one another. You both basked in the afterglow of it all.
Lacing his fingers with yours, still buried deep within you. Anakin placed a tender kiss on your forehead and whispered. “I love you. You’re going to look so beautiful carrying our child, my empress.”
A cold chill ran through you as you came back down from your high. You knew you should be terrified. That you should be distraught over the events that led up to this.
But as you gazed up into those yellow eyes…none of that mattered anymore. All that did was you being right by his side.
“I love you too, Lord Vader.”
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worldofstoriesanddreams · 18 days ago
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Isn't there an age limit?
The Justice League gathered in the meeting room to deal with yet another potential world ending threat. On the screen was a projection of an incoming alien armada. The invaders were as numerous as the stars. Each spaceship looked like a skull with many tentacles.
“These mechanical ships harvest a world’s resources, destroying all life, while terraforming the planet into servers which become part of Brainiac’s interstellar network,” Batman explained.
“We don’t have sufficient numbers to take them all down,” Martian Manhunter pointed out. “Is there a weakness we can target? Or do they have a leader we can capture to force the entire fleet into submission?”
“We need to locate Brainiac and infiltrate the ship he’s on.” While Batman spoke, a hush silence fell on the entire room. Everyone stared at the screen behind him, with mouths wide open.
Turning around, Batman stared in unbelief.
A massive sphere - a dead star, moved between Earth and the alien army. 
The cameras zoomed in on a red dot pushing it - Fawcett’s new local hero with the demeanour of a golden retriever - Captain Marvel. 
Gripping the titanic star like an oversized plastic ball, he swung it forward, hitting the incoming spaceships out of the galaxy.  
The Herculean man’s face lit with childish glee as he pumped his fist in the air. 
Grinning like an idiot, he carted the unimaginably heavy celestial object away, while whistling a ditty. 
How powerful was that man? 
More importantly, does he have any weakness in case he needs to be taken down?
“Phew,” Flash was the first to get his voice back. “The new guy took care of that. So can we go home now?”
“No,” Batman raised his hand. “Change of agenda. It’s time we expanded our membership.” Keep your friends close but your enemies closer. What better way to keep an eye on the new guy than to bring him into the fold.
Superman had a silly hopeful grin on his face. “I vote we invite Captain Marvel to join the League.”  The Last Son of Krypton must suspect that the new hero is a fellow Kryptonian.
“We don’t know anything about him,” Green Lantern cautioned.
“Better get him on our side than have him join our enemies,” Batman replied as the screen showed photos and articles about Captain Marvel gleaned from the internet for all to study.
“He’s clean.” Cyborg ran his checks on the man. “He’s a boy scout. Half of all the footage I have found — and I mean exactly half — shows him rescuing cats from trees or helping little old ladies cross the road while carrying groceries for them.”
“Cast your votes,” Batman ordered. “Do we want Captain Marvel to be a member of the Justice League?”
*
The decision was unanimous. Captain Marvel has a place in the Justice League, that is, if he wants it. With his power set, he would be a valuable asset to the team. All appearances of the new hero have shown that he is one of the good guys.
“I’ll ask him,” Superman volunteered. He was dying to meet the new guy. He had to be a fellow Kryptonian. Though he must have a chat with The Captain about Bat-paranoia, to hide how much Kryptonians can really do. Otherwise Bats might break out his Kryptonite stores to hit them both.
For example, while pushing a titanic star, for goodness sake, please make it look a lot more challenging.
According to Cyborg, Captain Marvel would appear in Fawcett right after a massive lightning strike from the clear, cloudless sky. The hero tended to patrol Fawcett for an hour before seven in the morning and for an hour after three in the afternoon on weekdays. His schedule was more unpredictable during the weekends. 
Clark was a reporter. 
Could The Captain be an elementary school teacher in his civilian identity?
It was a quarter past three on a Wednesday afternoon. Superman hovered four hundred feet above Fawcett’s busiest square, drawing a curious crowd while he waited for Captain Marvel to make his appearance.
Lightning struck an alley near a local elementary school.
“S-superman!” Captain Marvel hovered in front of him. 
The man’s brilliant blue eyes brimmed with excitement as he stared at Superman with an open-mouthed grin. 
“What brings you to Fawcett?” The Captain’s cheeks flushed as he stiffened, arms crossing his heavily muscled chest. If Superman didn’t know any better, he’d think Captain Marvel was starstruck.
“Captain Marvel,” Superman began, feeling a little self conscious.“I come on behalf of the Justice League. We’ve seen what you can do and want you to join our team.”
“You want me to join the Justice League?” The big guy was practically bouncing with excitement. If he were a golden retriever with a tail, he’d be wagging it.
Just as abruptly, he looked down, slouching as if trying to shrink his large frame. “But isn’t there an age limit to join the League?”
“We don’t discriminate against anyone based on their ages.” 
Superman whispered conspiratorially. “I don’t even know how old I was when my ship landed on earth. For all you know, it could have taken lightyears to get here.”
“Hmm,” Captain Marvel rubbed the back of his neck. “If you say so.”
“Take your time to think about it,” Superman handed him a League communicator. “This is for you. If you want to talk to us, just press this button,” he showed The Captain how to use the device.
“For me?” The guy looked as excited as a kid who had received a shiny new toy. 
“Yes, for you,” Superman replied. “Call us when you’ve decided.”
“I want in,” Captain looked up, grinning from ear to ear.
“Then, welcome to the Justice League!” Superman shook his hand. “Come with me to our headquarters.”
*
The flight to the Justice League’s Headquarters with Superman was fun. 
That giant satellite that Cap often flew past when he left earth’s atmosphere was the Justice League’s Watchtower -  a secret meeting place for Justice League members.
Billy was flying with Superman. 
Elated.
The SUPERMAN!
How cool was that?
His hero was a lot chattier in person. 
Superman talked about Krypton, his home world. His dad uploaded all Krypton’s history and knowledge into the A.I. of the spaceship that brought Kal-el to earth. 
Kal-el was Superman’s birth name.
“What’s your birth name?” Superman asked?
“William,” Cap replied.
“Wil-em,” Superman looked deep in thought. 
“The Ems — I think I know your bloodline.”
“You do?” The thought that Superman even cared about Billy’s family warmed him like a cup of hot chocolate. But as far as Billy knew, he was a Batson, not an Em. He was four when he lost his family. It’s been three years since. His memories of Daddy, Mummy and Mary were beginning to fade.
“Come with me to my Fortress of Solitude after your induction and I’ll show you Krypton’s records about the Ems,” Superman grinned as he tapped on the satellite.
A panel slid open.
“Where is it?” Cap asked as he flew into the airlock.
“In the Arctic,” he accompanied Cap in the dock.
“Are there polar bears?” Cap felt giddy with excitement.
“Plenty,” Superman laughed as he walked Cap through the massive hall. It was like nothing Billy had ever seen. 
“I can introduce you to a family of friendly bears,” Superman grinned.
“I would love that,” Billy’s heart did flip flops over the thought of getting to meet polar bears who were friends with Superman. Cap could speak all languages. He’d have a great time chatting with Superman’s bear buddies.
“Holy Moley,” Captain Marvel exclaimed as he walked through the security checkpoint. The doorway opened into futuristic corridor with interactive walls and holographic displays. 
Announcing the arrival of Superman and his guest Captain Marvel, a tinny voice rang out.
“Brace yourself,” Superman whispered. “The rest of the League is waiting for us in the meeting room.”
A metallic panel slid open revealing a grand meeting room. Batman sat at the head of the long table. Wonder Woman, Flash, Green Lantern, Cyborg and Aquaman sat around it. There were two empty seats.
All eyes were on Captain Marvel.
“Holy Moley,” Cap whispered. He couldn’t help himself. It’s a bad habit he picked up from his late father.
“Guys,” Superman announced. “Captain Marvel has agreed to join the Justice League.”
The room broke into applause.
“Welcome to the team,” Flash whooped.
“Let’s celebrate,” Aquaman tilted a large bottle of whiskey, filled a glass and slid it across the table to Captain Marvel.
Cap looked at the glass in front of him and back at Aquaman. “Isn’t there an age limit?”
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wonderjanga · 9 days ago
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Sharing Can in Fact Lead to Caring
Sometimes Billy doesn’t need Solomon. Sometimes, Billy just says whatever that comes off the top of his head, it can be surprisingly helpful at times. (Billy doesn’t realize most of them are just coming to their dad figure for advice)
Such as the time Wonder Woman came to him concerned about time dilation. When Solomon explained what that meant, he had a pretty good idea of what she was talking about. Basically, she was worried about the afterword of the Justice League and her friends and how she would outlive them all. He brought her ice cream and they talked it out. In a way, he supposed he understood her. Billy couldn’t remember his mom or dad’s faces or personalities. He only had Captain Marvel to go off of and he guesses Mary, but she looks more like a young version of their mom. In the end, after much talking and trying to show he understands her worries, she seemed to be doing better.
Then, there was a talk with J’onn. The Martian had confided in not feeling at home with the humans. Not that he blamed him. J’onn had lost his home. So, Billy talked with him. Again, sort of relating. The way the Martian described missing his planet, reminded Billy of how he’d missed his parents. By the end of the talk, the Martian seemed to feel a little lighter after it.
Then, there was this kid.
Little Girl: *sitting on a bench alone*
Marvel: “Hey there, miss. Where are your parents?”
Little Girl: *stares* “There not here.”
Marvel: “Why’s that?” *sits down next to her*
Little Girl: *shrugs*
Marvel: “Well, then do you have any guardians?”
Little Girl: “I think so, but I don’t really like her. She’s mean. I don’t think she likes me or my foster siblings.”
Marvel: “Oh? You’re from foster care?”
Little Girl: *hesitantly nods head*
Marvel: “And I’m guessing you ran away?”
Little Girl: *nods again* “Are you going to tell on me?”
Marvel: “No. I ran away from my foster homes all the time.” *shrugs, doesn’t know why he’s saying this but might as well go with it*
Little Girl: “You did?”
Marvel: “Yeah. They were all terrible. And the ones that weren’t terrible were just neglectful.”
Little Girl: “What does neglectful mean?”
Marvel: “It means not paying attention to something. Like for example, I had this foster parent who would go days without coming home, leaving me and the other kids to have to feed ourselves. She wasn’t paying attention to us or our needs.”
Little Girl: “That’s sad.”
Marvel: “Yeah, it is. So, why did you run away from your foster home?”
Little Girl: “The lady who adopted me throws stuff when she gets mad. She’s mad a lot.”
Marvel: “That sucks. I had a foster home like that too. He would throw a bottles, forks, books, whatever he could get his hands on.”
Little Girl: “You did? Did you think it was scary?”
Marvel: “Yeah.”
*silence*
Marvel: “You know, a friend of mine got adopted recently.”
Little Girl: “Really?”
Marvel: “Yeah, he’s been with them for about half a year now. He says they’re great. They’ve been fostering kids for a while apparently too.”
Little Girl: “That sounds nice.”
Marvel: “It is. Do you want me to ask about it?”
Little Girl: “Huh?”
Marvel: “Do you want me to ask him if there’s any spots open?”
Little Girl: *stares for a bit* “Yeah.” *stomach growls*
Marvel: “Alright, then I will. Now, how long have you been on the streets?”
Little Girl: “Oh uhm… a couple days.”
Marvel: “Come on, let’s get you something to eat.” *stands up*
Little Girl: “Really?” *hops off the bench*
Marvel: “Yeah. You feeling chili dogs or tacos? Those are the only two vendors I know that’ll give me something free.”
Little Girl: “Tacos, please.”
Marvel: “Alright then- uh, my bad. I never asked your name?”
Little Girl: “Oh uhm it’s Darla.”
Marvel: “Darla? Alright then Darla.” *fatherly ahh smile* “Let’s go get you some food, ‘kay?”
So ya. He met Darla. She’s a sweet kid. He would need to ask Freddy more about the Vazquez situation. Hopefully, just hopefully, they could squeeze the little girl into their family.
Also, uh… I guess in this AU, Freddy met the Vazquez and got adopted because he went back into foster care for a bit for whatever reason. There, he got adopted into the family. Darla joins after him for this post to work.
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minart-was-taken · 3 months ago
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The wild references to Finland in Honkai Star Rail
Hello, in this post I'm going to go over the various references to Finland in Honkai Star Rail (Also touching a little on HI3) and explaining them the best I can so that non-finns can understand how hilariously delightful they are.
_
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Starting with a funny one: Welt Yang.
The man is canonically 1/2 finnish, 1/4th chinese and 1/4th german according to sources I dont understand.
The way this is represented in Honkai Star Rail comes in one intentional form and one that may be an accident but I love it anyway:
1.
Welt's given name is Joachim Nokianvirtanen, a name that is utterly hilarious to a finn like me. Why? Well Nokianvirtanen is not a surname anyone here would ever have. Virtanen is a real surname, but for some reason Mihoyo decided slap Nokia in the front of it??
The name translates to "Nokia's rapids." Which adds to the funniness because yes Nokia is an actual place in Finland and not just the brand, but it is also very much the brand.
(Also Joachim is not a finnish name even if many finns are christian.)
This is the equivalant of naming an american character Jesus McDonaldslake.
2.
Welt's hair colour! A lot of people imagine blond and blue eyes when imagining a finn, but that's not actually accurate to the statistics. The most common hair colour here is in fact "Maantien harmaa." Translating to country road grey. Sometimes they leave out the word grey or replace it with blond. The colour is known as dirty blond or pale brown in english speaking countries 👍 This is less funny and just a cute detail.
_
Secondly we'll be going over Sampo Koski, a man many know to have a very finnish name.
BUT FIRST Fun backround info: I didn't know Sampo was in this game when I first started playing, so when he showed up and suddenly dropped finnish words at me I was utterly jumpscared.
Finland is very rarely referenced in media outside of our country, so most of us are NOT used to hearing anything about our home in media.
Furthermore there's actually a meme about this very thing that everyone in the country knows: Torilla Tavataan. This translates to "Lets meet at the marketplace" which is referring to the idea that when something massively cool happens we should gather together and celebrate.
The finns REALLY want to be acknowledged by the wider world lol
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Anyway back to Sampo. His name is actually something I could totally see a real finn having, although his first name is a little out there.
Sampo is an item from finnish* mythology that was forged by a super capable smith with the help of his whole village. The item is golden with multiple spouts that produce valuable things like flour, gold and I believe... salt? You can find more about the item online.
Koski meanwhile means a river rapid. Uhm, lotsa water themed names here, huh!
Nothing that funny going on with his references to be honest. I can even say the voice actor did an amazing job pronouncing his name correctly.
_
Yunli's companion quest!
This is the newest batch of references I've ran into, but if I or anyone else finds more I'll be updating this list :]
In Yunli's companion quest we meet... Paavo. His name is Paavo--
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This NPC introduces himself as a traveler from far away who's come to deliver a sword from his homeland back to the Xianzhou where it was originally forged. Here's why he made me giggle uncontrollably every moment he was on screen.
1.
Paavo is considered kind of a joke name, very comparable to naming someone Bob in america. The way NPC's referred to him sounded like "Mr. Bob" to me. It was so funny
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2.
He is from the PLANET KALEVALA?? SAFlJ LJ ???
Kalevala is the national epic of Finland* and tells stories such as the one of Sampo's creation. The title does refer to setting of the story, but it is still weird to hear it as a name of a planet lol.
3.
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Our food is really repetitive u right Mr. Paavo
4.
Paavo explains the sword he has come to deliver is called Miekka Kivessä. This is the finnish translations of "The sword in the stone." he proceeds to then explain the legend of the sword in the stone, which. It's not a finnish legend. We've never had a king, yet alone chosen them with a sword-- Not even in myths. Kalevala's highest ranking guy in the mortal realm is Väinämöinen who's an old wise man.
Also he says Miekka Kivessä wrong but that's to be expected, very funny, and also I admire the effort to at least try and make it sound natural.
5.
Finally, he later reveals his last name-- Which, why are we refering to him as Mr. Paavo if he has a last name...? Oh well! Mr. Paavo's last name is Kalastaja, which translates to Fisher. This is not a real last name in Finland. The english equivalent of this man's goddang name would be something like Mr. Bob Employee.
_
Since you've made it this far I assume you won't mind me rambling a bit more. I'm personally psyched to see Finland mentioned in non-finnish media and love the wonky but genuine attempts to include us!
I think considering how many weebs there are in Finland who've come up with illogical "Asian names" to sound cool online, it's only fair we got the same treatment back :P I hope they'll keep delivering and I'd love to visit planet Kalevala one day.
_
*It's worth noting Finland is a colonizer of the Sami people, and a lot of their culture has been annexed without any care or respect towards them.
Finland was also under colonialism itself for hundreds of years, and our myths have been largely lost to time with only some information left. It's super difficult to tell what is finnish mythology and whats the Sami people's mythology.
That's a fact that's deeply important to remember when discussing things like this, and I hope that the people reading this consider looking into how to help the indigenous people of the nordic region. Thank you.
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rie-092 · 9 months ago
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LITTLE SIBLING.
⟡﹒yandere! older brother x fem! reader
summary : your older brother thinks that your boyfriend wasn't good enough for you.
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during his childhood, yohan davis really wanted a little sister. a sweet little sister that he can protect and adore forever. but, that dream was shattered when his dad died and he had already accepted the fact that no matter what happened, he won't be able to have a little sister. because he can't force his mom to remarry just because of his selfish desire after all.
and let's be honest here. with yohan's handsome face and those captivating (e/c) eyes of his. even when he was a child, everyone adored him. and maybe that was the main reason why he became like— this. uh, a spoiled son who was able to get whatever he wanted? aside from little sister, of course.
but then, when he reached the age of 15, his mom got remarried. he was excited, for his mom and for the chance that he can achieve his dream through his new dad. yep, he knew how obsessed he was with having a little sibling. everyone, except his mom (since she thinks that it was a cute thing but clearly it's not) has pointed it out to him. but he didn't care since in his eyes, it was unfair for him that his friends had little siblings that they could adore and spoil.
and yohan fucking celebrated when he got the news of his mom being pregnant a year later. he basically ran to his new dad and hugged him tightly and started to thank him and his ehem, let's forget about the last part. anyway, after that sudden revelation, yohan had started looking for good names that he could give to his younger sibling. he also looked for some cute toys and clothes but let's forget about it.
yohan, during his little sibling's birth stayed at the hospital. he didn't give a fuck about what other people were saying when he did all of his homework at the hospital while waiting for his parents and his new little sibling. and boy, oh, boy. yohan teared up when he saw you for the first time. you were so cute, so precious, so adorable and the most innocent thing on this planet.
“ so, how about you give her a name, son? ”
that was what he was waiting for. with a smile, he kissed your forehead as he told them the name that he had come up with after the 9 months that he spent thinking a name that suits you. (first name), his little sister. don't worry, your big brother will give you everything that you want and he will do everything for you.
expect that this guy will be quite overprotective when it comes to you. don't complain if you aren't able to play with your peers or if he doesn't let you go out and lock you at home. he was just worried! you're too innocent! what if you got kidnapped when he wasn't looking?! oh, and when he realized that you're allergic to (insert food here)? that day, you weren't able to see that thing inside your house again since yohan really threw a fit in front of your parents exclaiming that if they served you that kind of food again, he would run away and he will bring you with him.
but aside from his obsession, overprotectiveness and overbearing personality. yohan was a good older brother for you. he was much better than your classmates' older brothers. when the truth is he just engraved the 'he's the best older brother in the world' idea on your mind during your early childhood so that you will stay with him forever
anyways, much to his disappointment, when you became a teenager you found yourself a boyfriend. and that angers yohan. i mean, why do you think that boy deserves you? gosh, he was the one who raised you and he knew that boy wasn't deserving of you! he did his best to make you dependent on him. he cooked for you, washed your clothes and even made sure that you didn't know how to do housework! do you think that boy will do that for you? yeah, no.
expect that yohan will always roll his eyes when you mention your boyfriend whenever you are with him. this guy shamelessly stalks you when you are on a date, and when he sees that your boyfriend is about to kiss you? he will immediately call you to cut off that dirty romantic atmosphere that disgusting guy created. that guy bought you a gift? don't worry, your brother will give you a more extravagant the next day.
he will do anything to make you see that you made a wrong choice of getting into a relationship with someone. look, he knew that his obsession with his little sister was because his friends and bandmates always pointing out to him. there was some point when they asked him if he romantically saw you but that only disgusts him. the hell are they talking about? why would he romantically see his little sister? do they think that he's a sick freak? that's disgusting.
sure he stalks his little sister, sure he makes her dependent on him, sure he manipulates his younger sister that he's the kindest soul alive, sure there are some points that he commits crime for you. but anyways— he only did that because you were his little sister. his innocent and fragile little sister that he needs to protect!
and when the news about your boyfriend cheating on you reached his ears. he was fucking happy! see? he told you, that guy wasn't good enough for you! oh, his poor little sister. the only thing that he did when he saw you go home crying was to hug and comfort you but of course, while he manipulates you thinking that other guy aside from him and your dad was like that. a fucking freak that will only hurt your feelings.
ah, of course! do you think that he'll forget about that ex-boyfriend of yours? of course, he won't! because yohan, with a 'little talk' made sure that guy won't be able to approach you again. oh? you're worried when he came home bloodied and had a bruise on his cheek? this guy will tell you that your ex suddenly punched him out of nowhere when he talked to him when the truth is he beat that guy half to death. hehehe, and seeing you believed him made him smile widely. ah, it seems like you're really stuck with him from now on. and yohan was willing to sell his soul to a demon just to make sure this would last forever.
“ big brother's doing this for your sake so listen to me, okay? ”
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tlou-reid · 1 year ago
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Cardigan ❤︎ Spencer Reid
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♡ SUMMARY: spencer is finally home and all fem!reader wants is to be close with him (i picture this as season 9 reid but you do you)
♡ WARNINGS: smut, unprotected piv (be safe!) , ass slapping, fluffy smut, spencer being a cutie, showering together, not edited, 18+ minors dni
—♡
Spencer could’ve sworn you could hear his heavy footsteps as he made his way up the apartment building’s stairs. He had called you a few hours ago and let you know that they were finally loading up the jet to go home. After an excruciating, exhausting, and downright horrendous case all Spencer wanted to do was go home to you.
You couldn’t help yourself from making your way to the kitchen after hanging up with Spencer. It wasn’t that you felt the need to cook for him; he was a grown man, he could do it himself if he wanted food. But it was an act of love. After being away for almost two weeks and nothing but fast food and vending machine snacks, you knew he’d appreciate a warm, home cooked meal.
You heard the keyhole in the door turn as you sat his plate on the dining room table. You made your way to the door to be able to greet him as soon as he came in. The grin that spread across your face as he opened the door quickly faded as you saw the deep dark circles under his eyes. He looked so, so tired. Your heart fell, knowing he must have had an awful two weeks.
“Spence,” you said lovingly, reaching for his shoulders. His body instantly relaxed as you rubbed the tension out of his body. He stood in the doorway as your hands slid from his shoulders down his chest. Your hands followed the buttons of his purple cardigan down, undoing them as you went. Neither of you said anything, just allowing your actions to convey how much you missed him, how much you loved him, and how much you hoped he was feeling okay.
When his cardigan was fully unbuttoned your hands traced back up to his shoulders, helping him take it off. You grabbed his hand, lightly tugging him inside and setting his cardigan on the arm of the couch, him shutting the door as you did so. Still silent, you led him to the table by his hand, pulling his chair out and allowing him to sit.
Your hand ran through his hair before you leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead. Spencer’s eyes fell shut as your lips pressed against his skin. “You okay?” You spoke softly. Spencer just nodded, reaching towards to wrap his hands around your waist. His dinner plate was forgotten, but he made a mental note to thank you for the gesture later, as he pulled you into his lap. “Rough week,” was all he said.
You nodded, letting him bury his head into your shoulder. You knew sometimes this is what Spencer needed. Despite not liking when people touched him, he craved yours. It was like you were his own personal sense of home, and everything was okay as long as he could feel your skin. No killers, no victims, no violence, no nightmares. Just you and your soft skin and gentle touch. That was all he needed.
You weren’t sure how long you two stayed like that; just wrapped up with each other. His plate had definitely gone cold by the time his hands unwrapped from your waist. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled as you got off his lap, “I’m just really hungry.” You giggled, offering to heat his plate up for him. He declined, assuring you that your cooking was more than enough, and he was just grateful to have something to eat already made. Both of your hearts were full of love as you sat while he ate, continually complimenting your cooking.
When Spencer was done, you quickly cleared his plate for him, just sitting it by the sink for one of you to worry about tomorrow. You, once again, grabbed his hand and gently guided him to your shared bedroom. Physically, he wasn’t fragile. Spencer was strong. He’d been through more than almost anyone else on the planet, and he took it in stride. He took whatever came at him and not only moved on from it, but grew from it. But you were still scared he would break. After all, a person could only take so much.
“Shower with me?” Spencer asked once you both reached the bedroom. He sat on the edge to untie his converses. “Of course,” you hummed already making your way to the connected bathroom. You were turning on the water when Spencer entered the room, wearing only his boxers. You couldn’t help yourself as your eyes traced over every nook and cranny of his body. He was so beautiful. After a week, you were dying to be near him. To touch him. To have him touch you.
Spencer could feel the energy shift as he came in. He watched you as you undressed, stepping into the shower. He followed closely, letting his hand run over your chest as he stepped in. You guys stood facing each other, letting the warm water run over you. You held eye contact as you leaned to kiss him. You’d missed the feeling of his lips against yours.
He was the one who deepened the kiss. He could only control himself so much after being away for so long. He thought of you every night. Even when he couldn’t talk to you, you were on his mind.
His hands were on each side of your face as you made out in the shower. His tongue slipped into your mouth and your hands wrapped around his waist to pull him closer. God, you really did miss him.
Just as quickly as he deepened your kiss, he broke it. “I’m really sweaty,” he chuckled reaching for a rag to soap up. You washed each other. You noticed his half-hard cock as you washed his legs. You couldn’t help but press a kiss on his happy trail. He smiled when you stood up to face him again, pressing another kiss to your lips.
Spencer wrapped a large, fluffy towel around your body when you stepped out. He smiled as he ran his hands along your shoulders. He couldn’t help but give you another kiss before leaving the bathroom.
“Come here,” Spencer beckoned, bringing you over to the bed. You held your towel tight to your body as he leaned into where you stood between his legs. He was sitting, trapping you between his open, man-spreading legs. He started pressing deep kisses into your neck and mumbling how much he missed you in-between them. Your grip on your towel loosened as he showered you with love.
He noticed this, reaching up to move your hand completely. He was sucking a mark into your neck as he pulled your towel down. His mouth moved down, as did his hands. As he spread kisses across your chest, Spencer pulled you into his lap. Once you were straddling him, he attached himself to your left nipple. He kept one hand around your waist and brought the other up to toy with your right one.
“Spence,” you groaned, pushing yourself closer to him. After him being gone for so long, it was so easy for him to turn you on. Spencer could feel the wetness that had pooled around your pussy from where you were on his lap.
“Yes, baby?” He questioned, knowing what you wanted but wanted to hear you say it. “I want you,” you whined, dragging your pussy along his hard cock. “I’m tired baby, I don’t know if I can give it to you.” You whined at his teasing words.
He wasn’t lying. He was exhausted. He didn’t know how long he would last once he was inside of you.
“That’s okay,” you mewled, dropping your head into his shoulder, “I can do it myself, if that’s okay.” Spencer smiled, and let out a soft moan at your sweet, but dirty words. “Of course that’s okay,” he said.
That was all you needed, reaching a hand down in between you two and lining him up with your entrance. His hands rested on your waist as you sat down on him. You both let out a matching groan as you fully took him. “I missed you so fucking much.” Spencer said, moving forward to kiss you.
Your movements started light, barely lifting yourself off of his cock. The drag of his length inside of you felt so good as you bounced on his dick. As your movements started to pick up, Spencer was groaning underneath you, loving the way your ass slapped against his thighs as you bounced on him. He couldn’t help himself as he reached down to give it a light slap, before gripping it hard.
You let out a loud moan as you felt him guide your movements from behind. You pressed kisses into his neck as he moved you. You wanted to leave marks on him, just like he did to you, but you couldn’t. He’d have to leave again and you didn’t want anyone else to see the filthy things you two did when you were alone.
Spencer’s words were broken and weak as he sputtered out, “I don’t know how much longer I’m gonna last.” You nodded, agreeing with him but unable to find words as his cock lit a fire inside of you. Your movements were fast and heavy, becoming erratic as you were reaching your high.
When his hand that wasn’t on your ass reached down between your bodies, rubbing on your clit, you let out a moan. Your legs began to feel weak and he had to work harder to guide you as finished on his cock. Your pussy squeezing him just right led him to his own, cumming inside of you.
“Fuck,” you mumbled, pressing a kiss to his temple. “I love you,” Spencer spoke softly, his throat slightly hoarse. You hummed in agreement, pulling yourself off of him. You tried not to make a mess as you made your way to the bathroom.
When you were done, Spencer was laying in his plaid sweatpants, propped up on pillows at the top of your bed. Your eyes couldn’t help but trace his long legs. He smiled at you, holding out the cardigan that you had pulled off of him when he came in.
“I figured you’d like to sleep in it.” You smiled and nodded, slipping it on and buttoning it up. As you both settled down and turned off the lights, all you could think about was how happy you were he was home and safe.
You slept together with your legs intertwined at the bottom of the bed. Spencer didn’t have any nightmares that night.
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lavandulawrites · 7 months ago
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Fleeting Promises
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Yandere Aventurine x reader
This man is truly something else<3
Masterlist
Warnings: imprisonment, manipulation, Stockholm syndrome
Word count: 734
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Aventurine was sitting on the lush and expensive velvet couch in the extravagant living room. He was flipping through a fashion magazine filled with the latest trends that were all over the cosmos.
On his lap laid your head as he had ushered you to use his lap a pillow. He ran his hand through your soft hair as he held his magazine in the other. He hummed as he traced your right cheekbone.
“You are truly beautiful. Do you know that?” his voice a purr as admired you with a dreamy expression.
You closed your eyes. “You tell me that every day, you know.”
You could feel him chuckle at your comment.
His fingers returned to your hair as he twinned a lock around his finger. Though it appeared innocent, you knew very well what that gesture meant. You are mine was what he meant as he gently tugged on the strand.
“Oh did you hear about the rumour about the actress that played in that huge movie? Dreamers Ball? They all say she slept with some rich old man who owns a planet, only to scam big sums from him, without him seemingly knowing. Well I met her today o. a little mission I had if you can say that. And what a bitch! The rumours really are true, I am sure!” he trailed off as he saw your confusion.
“Oh… I forgot. You aren’t allowed outside. How utterly foolish of me” he chuckled.
You looked up at him and was met with eyes filled with obsession and madness. His mouth pulled back into a teasing grin.
This was all one of his sick games. He just wanted to rub it in that you couldn’t leave the house without him. He was in charge of you every waking moment and you knew that very well. He claimed he did it from his goodness of his heart and for some reason you believed him. He was as mad as they came, but his love was really. Almost too real. It felt like a cage and for some reason you felt home in that cage.
Before all this, you were a seemingly normal couple. As normal as it could be with a man who was absolutely obsessed and tapping your phone, but the love was real. And it still is. You did still love him, but you longed for freedom.
“Mmm…” you hummed. You sat up and moved away from him o the couch, so you were pressed against the opposite armrest. Even with your gaze toward your feet, which were firmly buried in the soft rug, you could feel his intensive gaze. He was looking through you. He was peering into your very being. Looking through your microscopic cells. His gaze hungry.
“What is it my love? Something bothering your pretty little head?” his honeyed voice sneaking itself intro every crook and cranny of you body. “Talk to me darling.”
You could feel the couch slightly dip as he moved to sit besides you. His arm snaking itself around your shoulder. He rested his head on top of yours and sighed. “You know you can trust me right? I would do anything for you. I have done everything and I will continue to do so. Over and over again” he pressed a kissed to your head and continued to talk with his mouth against your hair “But I need you to talk to me. Communicate. I want to know your innermost thoughts. I want to know all your troubles, feelings and dreams. I want it all. And I know you do too.”
As his smooth voice continued on, talking about his day, his love for you, shitty colleagues and whatnot, your eyes became heavy. It didn’t take long before you drifted off into a deep sleep. Safe and sound. Just like the golden haired man with the most stunning eyes promised.
You dreamt about flowers, endless meadows, the blue blue sea. You dreamt about magenta eyes that were a vibrant blue around the iris. You dreamt about soft kisses and whispered promises.
You were happy. You were safe.
Just as he promised.
He held you in his arms as he kissed your cheeks one by one. “You are safe here with me. You don’t need anyone but me. I will bring you happiness and no one can take you away from me. Ever.”
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mountainsandmayhem · 8 months ago
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Shhh...Just A Little Bit More
Part Three (Spicy Version)
DBF!Joel x Female!Reader - 18+
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Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 (Soft Version)
Summary: Joel Miller caught you working where you shouldn't be after you promised to quit. Now he's taking matters into his own hands. Word Count 5.7k
CW: DBF!, Dom!, SoftDom!, use of nicknames (baby, sweet pea, baby girl etc.), Sub/Dom, DD/LG, use of toys and a riding crop. no use of y/n. no description of reader except for piercings. Praise, degradation. After care.
AN: THANK YOU for all your love on parts 1 and 2. This is the spicy version of the third part. I'd love to hear which part you liked best!
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“Hey, buddy. It’s Joel.”
“Joel?” You can hear your dad’s muffled and panicked voice through the receiver. “Where’s my daughter? Why do you have her phone? It’s 5 am!” 
“Remember that time Sarah ran away to your house and you told me that one day I might be doing the same for you?” 
Your dad is silent for a while, a distorted higher pitched voice filters through before you hear your dad again, “It’s alright honey. She’s with Joel.” He lets out a deep sigh before adding, “I thought we skipped the rebellious phase with her.”
“She’s a good girl. I think she just needs some time to cool off.” Joel says, his voice is friendly and light.
You squeeze your thighs together and nuzzle deeper into Joel’s throat. You know what you need, and it isn’t to cool off. He and your dad have been friends since the day he moved in down the street. You were seven and Sarah was eleven, you thought she was the coolest person on the planet. Wonder what she’d think of you now, cuddled up against her dad after he just edged the fuck out of you after spanking you in an alleyway. You’re lost in your thoughts as Joel talks with your parents for a while.
A sane person would stop being so turned on right now. Fuck, I need Joel. So badly. Maybe I should rile him up some more. 
“I’ll come by this afternoon,” Joel hugs you tighter, bringing you back to the conversation. “Ya, if she wants to, I’ll bring her. She’s ok, just never seen her more - frustrated.” 
You squeeze his side, knowing he’s smirking about how frustrated and needy you truly are right now. He hangs up the phone and brings his lips to yours, kissing you harder this time. You moan into his mouth, hands roaming up his body to tangle in his hair. 
Holy shit, Joel Miller is kissing me. 
As you run your nails along his scalp he lets out a pleasurable sounding gasp and a small shiver racks his body. Oh, he likes that, he likes that very much. 
Got ya, you think to yourself. 
He pulls away to see you smiling at him. “This is why I usually tie naughty girls down,” his voice is completely different from how it was just moments ago; deeper and more commanding. It reverberates through you - right to your pussy. “Because they think they’ve found spots that will get them what they want. Let’s go home now, darlin’.” 
The front door hasn’t even closed before Joel is hoisting you over his shoulder roughly, kicking the door closed as you squeal, his calloused hands gripping the back of your thighs as your stomach rests across his broad shoulder. 
Fuck his ass looks good from this angle. 
“You know I’m not done punishing you yet, right?” He growls, toeing off his boots and taking you to the basement. 
When Sarah was old enough, she’d occasionally babysit you. You remember there being a locked room in the basement, she said she didn’t know what was in there, but you were obsessed with finding out. You asked Joel mercilessly what he was hiding back there and he never responded in more than a grunt or a sarcastic comment like “that’s where I lock up kids who don’t shut up.” 
Joel grabs a key off the holder at the bottom of the stairs and heads straight for that mysterious locked door. The key scrapes against the door knob, you crane your neck to see as he flicks on the light. 
Holy. Fucking. Shitballs. Joel Miller has a sex room. 
“Watch your mouth,” he grumbles as he drops you onto the large metal framed bed. 
Did I say that out loud? 
He stalks away from you towards a large black cabinet, rolling the sleeves of his button up flannel to his elbows. It’s almost concerning how much that simple action turns you on. Maybe you should go back to church, your mom would be so proud. 
You’re intrigued to look around, curious as to what else is around you in this large room, but everything about Joel’s presence draws you in. Freezes you in time. You belong to him, or so he implied when he said he was your Dom now. 
He slides the door of the large black cabinet open just enough to reach in. Your curiosity is bubbling to the surface and just as you’re about to ask he looks at you darkly. 
“Did you come on the drive home?”
Every bump on the drive home had you twitching. You tried your hardest not to gasp and moan but the combination of the gravel road, your insane state of heightened arousal, and the lack of underwear in your stiff denim shorts were all working against you. 
“No, Joel.” Your eyes dance around his hands, trying to see what he took out of the cabinet. 
His jaw flexes, “It’s Mr Miller. Not Joel.” His chin juts towards the corner of the room across from him as he says, “go kneel in that corner. Face the wall and don’t move.” 
You practically leap off the bed and scramble to the corner as Joel mumbles, “So fuckin’ eager,” under his breath. 
On your way to the corner you see all sorts of ropes, chains, paddles and whips hanging from the walls. There's a large wooden x with cuffs leaning against another wall and beside the corner he’s told you to go to there’s a strange looking bench, almost like a gymnastics horse, that also has cuffs. You might be way in over your head here. 
You kneel down in the corner, the carpet is soft and luxurious under your knees as you rest your bum down onto your heels. 
“No, on your knees. Hands above your head on the wall.” Joel barks, making you jump and your pussy flutter. Joel opens and closes some more doors, you hear things being moved around and just as your hands start to go numb above you, you feel his heat at your back. 
“I’m going to finish your punishment now little one,” he rasps. “Have you ever been a sub before?” 
“N-no. Mr Miller. I’m sorry,” you voice trembles. Nervous and excited energy are battling inside you for first place. 
“Don’t be sorry, babygirl. What do you say if you want me to stop?” His strong hands grip your hair, gathering it up in a low ponytail before tying a long ribbon around it. 
“Umm..” you rack your brain. Before his sadistic little countdown he told you to say something if you wanted to stop.
“Cowboy,” you finally say, slightly uncertain until he hums a sultry ‘that’s right’ behind you, his hands grabbing the hem of your shirt before pulling it up and over your head. 
The cool basement air hits your exposed skin and you find yourself arching your back towards Joel’s warm body. Your nipples turn to stiff peaks at the combination of the temperature shift and the anticipation of what’s coming next. 
Your hands fall back to your sides as your shirt glides past your fingertips. Without missing a beat, Joel hits right below your shoulder blade gently with a riding crop. The sound of the soft black leather end against your skin is louder than the pain, but it still burns slightly as you gasp and your arms fly back up to the wall.
“Don’t be stupid, baby. The more you don’t listen, the more I will hurt you. And you are already here because you didn’t listen.” He trails the riding crop around the pink mark forming on your back. “Stand up, but keep your hands above you.” 
You plant one white slip-on van on the carpet and drag the toe of the other as you stand, hands sliding up the red satin wallpaper that lines the room. The soft leather of the crop traces down the black strap of your lace bra, across the back band and then up the other strap. 
“Use one hand and undo the clasp, sweet pea.” You drop your right hand and bring it behind your back. Popping the metal clasp open with a shaky thumb and forefinger. Before you can put your hand back, Joel grabs your wrist and places the crop in your fist before raising it back up above you. His rough fingers graze your back, goosebumps line your skin as your head falls forward and you hum out in pleasure. 
His hands glide around to the front of your body and trail up, pushing under the cups of your bra to squeeze your tits. He stops dead as they land heavy in his palms. 
“Holy fuck, drop the crop and take this bra off right now. Let me see them,” his voice is thick with arousal at what he’s found. 
You do as he says, the crop hitting the soft carpet with a thud. You spin and let your bra fall from your arms. Showing him the golden barbells, and the thin golden hearts that surround each nipple. 
Joel practically snarls as he dives in to kiss you, his tongue parting your lips and making room for him to devour you. “Are those healed?” He asks through the kiss. 
“They’re sort of new,” you say into his mouth. “Six weeks ago.” 
“Fuuuuck, you’re gonna kill me,” his hands hurry to the buttons on your shorts. He rips them down your legs, kneeling in front of you to slide off your shoes. His face is now level with your achy cunt. It’s been throbbing since he spanked you and now he’s so very close. 
He stops to stare at it, then gently uses his thumbs to pull your soaked lips again. He clicks his tongue, “too bad you didn’t listen. She looks swollen and sooo wet,” his thumb barely grazes the wet flesh before he looks up at you as he sucks off the juices. “Mmm - and sweet. But bad girls don’t get rewards.” He lays a quick slap across your clit and you nearly collapse at the sensation. 
The pain. 
The heat. 
The pleasure. 
He smirks down at you as he stands. You crane your neck to look at him, gasping for breath as the pleasure ebbs between your legs. 
“You like pain, don’t you?” He asks. 
A sly closed lip smile crosses your face as you nod quietly. You do like pain, but you’ve never had someone as experienced as Joel before. He spanked you harder than you ever have been before, pushing and testing your limits. While you enjoyed it, and can’t fucking wait to do it again, you aren’t sure if you can handle all these whips, crops, canes and ropes. 
Cowboy. Just say cowboy. 
He steps away, leaving you completely bare in the corner. He stops at the foot of the bed, the things he’s pulled out of the cabinet rest flat on top of the sheets but you can’t make out what’s there. He slides his flannel off and drops it to the floor. You swallow hard at the way his tight shirt hugs his body, you swear you can see every muscle that lines his chest and abdomen through it. He doesn’t leave you guessing for long, one hand reaching behind himself, grabbing his shirt by the nape of the neck before peeling it from his hard body. You squeeze your thighs at the sight of him. 
Joel Miller: Greek God. 
He leans against the tall post at the foot of the bed, crossing his thick arms over his chest. His biceps bulge and suddenly you find it hard to breathe. He is fucking beautiful. 
“Crawl to me, and bring the crop,” his voice is rough as he commands you. 
You get onto your hands and knees and look over at the crop and then back towards Joel, looking up through your lashes. “Think about it for a second,” he says. 
You bend down and pick the crop up with your teeth. “There’s my smart girl,” he praises as you crawl. You’re so wet that your thighs slide effortlessly against one another. You stop in front of him and he reaches down to tilt your chin up to meet his gaze. He’s looking at you with an immense sense of pride, you’d do anything to have him look at you like that and when he throws in a warm ‘good girl’ you’re done for. His. His brat. His good girl. His submissive. Just his. 
He takes the crop from your teeth and then walks behind you. “Arch your back,” he presses the leather end into your lower back, guiding you, teasing you, showing you what he wants and how he wants it. 
“Spread your legs, babygirl,” he whispers, again gently pressing the crop to your inner thighs as you spread for him before he slowly drags the soft leather from your clit to your backside. You whimper at the much needed attention. “Good girl. See how much better it is when you listen.” 
You relax your head, letting it fall as you moan. Close. So very close. The leather meets your chin next. “Eyes up, I need you to stay like this for me. Ok?” 
“Yes Mr Miller,” you gasp, holding your head high, looking straight ahead at the metal bed frame that’s lined with hooks and rings. “Anything for you.” 
The riding crop trails down your neck and spine as he walks back behind you. “That right, darlin’?” He says, almost afraid to admit how much those three little words have affected him. You. Offering him anything. 
You let out an agreeable moan before he strikes you twice, each snap of the crop hitting the exactly same spot. 
Joel Miller: Greek God and Accurate Riding Crop Sniper.  
Ok, you’ll have to work on the name. 
The sting takes a bit longer to turn into that pleasurable tingly heat that you love than when he spanked you. Keeping your back arched and head up is already proving to be a challenge, and then he traces your cunt and asshole again with the leather and you’re practically shaking. Closer. Much closer. 
He does it again. Striking one cheek, then the other, quickly followed by a quick slap to the back of your thigh. You cry out in pain, until the leather slides over your soaked clit and the sounds turn downright pornographic. 
“Why am I punishing you?” He demands, tapping your clit lightly and rapidly. 
“I - mmmm - I didn’t q-quit,” you moan. 
“Wrong,” he hits you again. Five quick, sharp snaps, alternating between ass cheeks. Then he slides up and down your folds again. 
Pain
Pleasure.
Sparkling burning heat. 
“M’gonna come,” you mumble and Joel pulls away. You cry out in protest as he lowers himself to the floor, a large warm hand gently rubbing your sore cheek. 
“You come when I say,” his lips land on every spot he’s hit you, but not the spot you need him the most. “Now why am I punishing you?” 
Your mind is mush, overrun by the overwhelming need to orgasm. You didn’t quit. He wants you to and you didn’t. That’s why he’s hitting you. 
“I don’t know Mr Miller,” you whine. His hand trails up the soft skin of your inner thigh, your legs tremble under his touch and you fight against your shaking arms to keep your body how he wants it. 
“No?” He says with a smirk. “On your elbows, forehead on the floor.” 
“I’m sorry,” you say as you get into his new required position. 
“You should be,” he stands and walks towards the bed. Leaving your ass up and on display. “You lied and snuck out, then after your spanking tonight you stayed at work for another two hours. You also used my marks to make money. You, my sweet girl, are a brat.” He’s practically growling by the time he finishes, settling himself behind you. “That’s why I’m punishing you.” 
Deep down Joel knows he should stop. Not for the obvious reasons: best friend's daughter, twenty years younger, four years younger than his own daughter. But because he hasn’t had a real conversation with you yet about your hard and soft limits. Didn’t even ask if you wanted to be his sub. But your smooth little ass is up in the air, pussy glistening in the dim light of his sex room and nothing but your pleasure matters anymore. 
You swallow hard, “I’m sorry for being a brat, Mr Miller.” 
“I don’t think you are,” he says and you hear the distinct sound of a cap of lube opening behind you. “I think that you have enjoyed yourself so much that you’re going to be back on that corner waiting for an Uber to take you to work tonight. You want me to come after you. Because you are a little slut with a very greedy pussy.” 
Something cool presses against your soaked entrance and you cry out as he continues, “so I’ll tell you what. You can go to work tonight, but you’ll have to do it my way,” slowly that cool something slides inside of you, filling you slightly but it’s not enough. “Fuck, practically sucked it in, babygirl.” 
You can feel it, a hard ball that’s pushing right against your g spot, a slender piece staying outside your body for easy removal. “That is going to stay in until I take it out. It vibrates, and if you don’t behave…I will turn it on.” 
His large, rough hands grip you by the hips and pull you back so your ass is flush against his body, his cock stiff as nails under his jeans. “It’s time to get some sleep, sweetheart. Get in the bed, please.” 
“But…” you pout into the plush carpet. “Please, Mr Miller.” 
“What did I say? Bad girls don’t get rewarded. Come on,” he taps your hip. “Bed.” 
You stand up on shaky legs, thankful that the best is only two steps ahead of you. But the toy inside of you has you feeling like a powder keg on the edge of exploding. Joel pulls the covers back and climbs in with you, pulling you in to rest your head on his chest. His arm drapes around your body, the other resting behind his head. 
“How are you feeling after tonight?” He whispers, using an app on his phone to turn the lights off. 
“Horny,” you whisper, burying yourself deeper into his neck. 
“I know. But you know I can’t make you come, right? I can’t reward you for this behaviour.” His lips fall to your hairline, two light lingering kisses melting you further into him. 
“What can I do, Mr Miller?” The moment the last syllable of his name leaves your lips the vibrator comes to life inside of you. “Oh god - thank you. Thank you.” Your body twitches against his, your leg coming to drape across him as you subconsciously hump and grind into his hip. 
“That feel good, baby?” He asks, holding you tighter against his strong body. 
“Yes. Yes. Hnnnng, yes.” You grind harder, your arousal coating his hip and leg, your clit sliding along him with ease now. “Joel, please.” 
Shit. He should punish you for calling him Joel but you’re so goddamn beautiful as you start to fall apart and he can’t hold back any longer. He’s let other subs go days without an orgasm, he’s gotten off to them begging and crying for relief. But you. You sound so damn sweet to his ears and he can’t stand to see you like this anymore. 
He has you flipped onto your back, trapped under his weight before you can even register what’s happening. He’s kissing you deeply, tongue taking what it wants as your legs kick and shake under him. 
“Please!” You cry between kisses. 
His thick fingers sliding between your puffy folds before grabbing the end of the vibrator, you scream out as he pulls the toy from you. 
“Shhh…just a little bit more. I’m going to make it better now,” he says gently, kissing down your neck, swirling his tongue around each nipple piercing. 
“Please. Please. Pleeeaase, Mr Miller. Please. It hurts. I need it, please.” You’re a mumbling mess and the words leaving your lips are practically incomprehensible. 
“I know. Relax baby. Breathe.” He says between kisses down your sternum, his tongue tracing your curves. When he finally settles in between your thighs he swallows hard, he wants to dive right in, make you drench his face as you come. “Look at me, darlin’.” 
His warm breath hits your pussy and you fight your hips from bucking up to his face as prop yourself up on an elbow and try to focus your eyesight on him. You didn’t know it was possible to be so turned on that you practically had tequila vision. 
His voice is serious yet calm as he says, “I’m going to make you come using my fingers and my tongue. Is that ok?” 
You nod your head and a faint ‘yes’, leaves your lips. He doesn’t want to ask permission, and next time he won’t. But right now he needs to know you’re ok with this. 
“Can I lick and touch both the outside and inside of this beautiful, weeping, pussy?” 
It starts to hit you that Joel Miller would never do something you didn’t want and that sets your soul on fire. He cares. About you. Only you. Wants to do things for you. You are not a burden here. 
“Yes, Mr Miller. Please. Touch me.” The room suddenly feels twenty degrees hotter, you can feel sweat beading on your skin. 
“That’s my girl,” he says, sliding his ring and middle finger around your desperate entrance. You cry out, dropping your body to the bed. 
Pleasure. Overwhelming pleasure. 
“No no baby girl, eyes on me.” 
You somehow muster the strength to raise yourself onto shaky arms. His two strong fingers slide deep into your heat with minimal resistance and you immediately start gasping. 
Pleasure. Life altering, heart stopping pleasure. 
“Fuuuuck. Baby. So tight. Have you ever squirted before?” His cheeks are flushed with need. He might be the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. 
Your breasts rise and fall with your ragged breaths. You shake your head and moan out a ‘no’. 
He smiles down at your dripping cunt, “I can feel it. Gotta relax for me. Just breathe and let it happen.” 
Nerves flutter in your stomach and then he curls his fingers forward, putting so much pressure on a soft spongy spot that you didn’t know existed until today. On instinct, your knees try to close but his wide frame keeps you open. You yell his name to the ceiling, as all the air whooshes from your lungs. 
“Breathe baby,” he says as he curls his fingers once, twice, three more times. You can hear how wet you are and the pressure becomes unbearable. Stars start to blur your vision, the walls of your pussy squeeze tightly around his fingers and then it’s just a blur. A blur of all consuming pleasure and you turn into a boneless, mumbling mess. 
“That’s it. That’s my girl. Come for me. Soak me. Good girl,” Joel’s free hand pressed down on your mound as a wet heat leaks all over you. “Good fuckin’ girl. Let go for me.” 
You’re not sure if you’re screaming or not, all you hear and feel is Joel. Everything is Joel. Strong hands, deep gravel voice, warm vanilla smell. He’s everywhere and you never want it to stop. 
“Keep going. That’s it. You look so beautiful,” he says, licking a long stripe up your fluttering pussy, drinking and slurping up your juices. “Oooh yeah - gooood giiirrll”
Almost immediately after your orgasm crests it becomes too much. You’re so overstimulated that it hurts and your moans of pleasure become cries of pain. You forget your name, where you are, you even forget your safe word. But Joel knows, he always knows. 
He stops pumping his fingers and says your name, “look at me sweet pea.”
You blink slowly, you’re wrecked, barely able to keep your eyelids open, almost convinced they’ve been replaced with steel. You’re sucking in air, did you not breathe that entire time? 
“Breathe baby, you’re ok.” He says, stilling his fingers until you’re ready. 
“I’m sorry, Mr Miller. I know I called you Joel. I won’t do it again.” 
So fucking cute. “It’s ok, darlin’ girl. I want you to let loose when you come.” He places a few light kisses along your thighs. The sheets and his bare chest are soaked. “I’m gonna pull my fingers out.” 
You fall back to the bed and fist the sheets to ground yourself as he slides his fingers out. “You did such a good job,” he praises as you whimper at the loss of his fingers inside of you. 
He crawls up your body, placing his strong forearms beside your head, moving any hair that has escaped the ribbon from your face. “I’m so proud of you, babygirl.”
“Fuck me,” you mumble. 
He grins down at you. “That’s my little slut,” he says darkly, ripping his jeans and underwear off, kissing you hard and rough - just how you like it. His hard cock lands heavy on your clit and you cry out into his mouth. “You sure about this?” He says cockily. 
“Fuck me, Mr Miller. Please. I need your -,” he slams deep inside you, hips flush against yours. He’s so deep you swear you can feel it behind your navel. The girth of him giving you a painful but pleasurable stretch, “oh god. I’m gonna come again.” 
“Squeeze me, baby. Yell out. Show me what I do to you,” he hooks your knees in his elbows to get deeper. Hips grinding and slamming into yours. “So goddamn good. So tight. Give it to me, little one.” 
The heat in your belly snaps as you come apart for him again. Every muscle goes limp and pliant as he folds you in half, knees practically behind your head like some sort of tantric pretzel. The walls of your pussy clamp down on his dick as cry out in pained moans. Before your orgasm has even tapered off he’s slipping out of you and flipping you around. 
“Hands and knees, like you were on the floor.” He practically yells it at you, like a drill sergeant. 
You don’t have the cognitive ability to even know what your arms or legs are, lying on your belly down in the puddle you created earlier. 
“Can’t,” you moan before the sharp snap of the riding crop hits your ass. Adrenaline spikes as you start to find your arms, bringing them beside you to push up. Another three quick strikes hit your backside. “Fuck. Stop, Joel. Please.” 
He strikes you again. You most definitely do not want him to stop and you already know that he loves when you beg. “It huuuurts,” you gasp as you bring yourself up to your knees. Your all wobbly limbs, like a newborn giraffe, and panting breaths as he hits six quick strikes down your thigh. Crying out with each one, “I’m sorry. I’ll be good. Please just stop.” 
“You should see how your pussy clenches with each hit, my little masochist,” he praises, moving to punish the other thigh in the same way he did the other one. “You could come from this, couldn’t you?”
“No. It hurts. I’m sorry, daddy.” 
Joel stops. The word daddy suspended in the air between you. Fuck, it just slipped out. You’ve never said it to a man before and now you wish you could just crawl into a little hole and die alone. 
“Oh babygirl,” he says proudly, coming up behind you and rubbing his dick up and down your wet pussy. “Do you like that? Calling me daddy?” 
“It slipped out. I’m sorry Mr Miller,” you desperately want to bury your face in the pillows but you keep your head held high, just like he wants you too. 
“Tell daddy to fuck you,” he says, his hand grabbing the base of your tied back hair. 
“F-fuck me, daddy,” you say in the sweetest and most innocent sounding voice you can muster.
With one snap of his hips he’s fully inside of you, his hand pulls at your hair. You scalp tingling and burning, only adding to the pleasure building again in between your legs. 
“You like it rough. Don’t you, little one?” You moan out in agreement, “like it when daddy fucks you this deep. Like it when daddy is in your belly. Don’t you?” 
“Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.” It’s like you’re a broken record, unable to come up with anything except moans, cries and ‘oh god’s’. 
Joel’s hand moves from your hair to between your shoulder blades and pushes down. A silent command for you to rest your chest on the bed. You do as he says, “good fuckin girl. You want me to fuck you while I use the crop? Is that what you want my little pain slut?” 
“Yes please, Mr Miller,” you gasp, hands fisting the sheets, muscles clenching as you prepare for what’s about to happen. 
The pace at which he’s fucking you continues. He’s fast and rough, his balls slapping against your pussy with each trust. The crop hits the bottom of one of your feet first, then just to the right of your left shoulder blade. 
“Not gonna stop until you use that safeword. Brats don’t get rewards,” He fucks up into you a few more times as he swats at the front of your thigh. 
Blinding heat and pleasure start to course through you as you come again. “My little masochist,” he says again, pulling back to slap at your ass as you come on his cock. Tears blur your vision, you want to stop but you want to make him proud. You feel his dick getting harder, twitching slightly. 
Just a few more minutes, you think to yourself. Until he strikes you harder than all the other times. The sound of leather on your skin fills your ears and you pull away from him, “COWBOY!!” 
You collapse into the sheets as Joel turns away, unable to stop his orgasm and wanting to be respectful of your need to stop. He cums into the sheets with his hand, biting back your name from leaving his lips. 
He turns to find you facedown, red and purple marks already forming. “Baby,” he whispers, his hand coming to caress your lower back. You flinch under his touch. 
Fuck, I went to hard. 
“Shhh, relax. It’s over now. Let me take care of you.” He sees you visibly melt into the mattress, and why wouldn’t you. His voice is soft and gentle as his fingers trail up and down your spine. “I’m so proud of you for using your safeword. Can you roll over for me?” 
You do as he says, using any last ounce of energy to roll over. He shuffles himself to sit on the edge of the bed, lifting your upper body to help you prop up in some pillows, your eyelids are impossibly heavy. He reaches into the small mini fridge that’s disguised as a bedside table and takes out a bottle of water. 
“I need you to drink this, honey. Then I will put some coconut oil on those marks. Ok?” 
You open your eyes as he cracks the water. He looks wrecked. Beads of sweat line his hairline, curls sticking to his forehead, but fuck is he beautiful. 
Joel Miller. Sex God. 
“How are you feeling?” He asks as he slides his boxers back up his leg, his still half hard cock pressing against the fabric. 
You’re suddenly unable to stop from giggling. You feel giddy and drunk as you down the water and say, “I feel fucking amazing!” 
Joel shakes his head and lets out a little laugh. “Good,” he says, pressing his lips to your forehead. He pulls makeup wipe out from the bedside drawer and wipes the mascara that’s run down your cheeks. Then he finds himself doing something he’s never done with his other subs. He grabs the coconut oil and reaches a hand out to help you off the bed. 
“Let’s go get some sleep,” he says. Steading you and leading you up the stairs to his room. This is dangerous territory, but he needs to wake up with you. Cherish you. Care for you. Other subs always slept down here. Never in his room and rarely with him. But certainly never ever in his room. 
You follow with shaky legs and nearly collapse onto his bed when you get there. 
“Can we do that again?” You ask as he rubs oil on your tender backside. 
“Fuck yes. But before we do that,” he taps your side and you roll over so he can oil your thigh. “You need to fill out some paperwork.” 
You groan and he lets out a deep laugh. “I promise it’s fun paperwork. Hard and soft limits. Things you want to try.” 
He looks up at you with adoration, mirroring the looks you’re giving him. He nods towards your pierced nipples, “I like those. Very sexy. As soon as they’re healed we are gonna have some fun.” 
You blush, “thanks. You’re - umm, you’re actually the first person to see them.” 
“That right?” He says proudly, lying down beside you and pulling you into his chest. 
“I have an appointment at the piercer next week. Any requests?” You say teasingly as you nuzzle into his chest. Your appointment is to get a second hole in each ear lobe, but may as well have a little fun.
“Hmmm,” he hums, lips grazing your hairline with little kisses. “Belly button.” 
“Oh, I was thinking of doing my clit.” You glance up at him through your eyelashes, bottom lip between your teeth. 
“Fuck me, baby. You tryin’ to kill this old man? I’m gonna have to leave the goddamn continent while that heals.” He pulls you in tighter, pulling the blanket up around both of you. “Get some rest now, we have a big afternoon.”
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Taglist:
@corazondebeskar @hiddenbabynyc @rainstorms-library @smutsmutslut @sullyrocky44 @keylimebeag @pimosworld @casa-boiardi @pedritoferg @paleidiot @lorilane33 @pansexual-potatoes @baar-ur @jessthebaker @jasminedragoon @koshkaj-blog @pedroswife69 @strawberri-blonde  @none-of-this-makes-any-sense @iloveenya @javierpena-inatacvest @blazeflays @akah565@pinkiec6-rubi @pedroshotwifey @iluvurfather@ashleyfilm @mermaidgirl30
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utterlyotterlyx · 7 months ago
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Worthy
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Azriel x Fem!Reader
Summary - After a hard day, all you need is your mate to tell you that everything is going to be okay.
Warnings - angst, self hatred, self doubt, blood, brief details of childbirth, death, fluff
For my lovely @thisiskaylin - hope this makes you feel better x
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Blood.
There was blood everywhere. All over your hands, spatters on your face and neck, it clung to you like a disease.
It was meant to be worth it.
One more push, you would tell them. One more push and you get to see your beautiful baby. Just one more and it'll all be over and you can go home and raise your perfect little baby.
Just one more push.
The child wriggled in your arms, you had bundled the winged babe up in grey blanket, protecting him from the scene in front of him. A non-Illyrian woman lay before you unmoving, tears rolling down her face, fingers outstretched toward you with a vacant look in her eye. And there was blood everywhere.
Amalia had been one of your favourite patients in your career, full of life and wonder, kind and sweet and soft, she was made to be a mother. Every visit had been so positive, you had no reason to believe that she wouldn't make it. Amalia was strong and healthy, she should have made it. You had promised her it would all be alright.
But blood at pooled at her thighs, staining her cream coloured birthing gown, she had gone pale and sweaty and her lips had turned blue. The rapid rise and fall of her chest confirmed it, that she wasn't going to make it, and there was nothing your healing hands could do to stop it.
"Please. Let me see him," she had rasped to you and you sat beside her, lowering her babe to her face and letting her shaky fingers tug down at the neck of the bundle to see his face. "So beautiful."
Tears pricked your eyes, "You did so well, Amalia."
Amalia peered up at you, her icy blue eyes softening at your face, she had always called you an angel, "I did?"
Choking back tears, you ran your fingers through her lifeless blonde waves, a comforting gesture, to let her know she wasn't alone, "So well," you confirmed, "You have to name him."
"A name," her voice was fleeting, drifting away into the wind, carried by the coaxing breeze floating through the slightly ajar window, "Amias. Eternal love."
"Amias," you turned you gaze to the bubbling boy in your arms and smiled, brushing your fingers against his full cheeks, "It's perfect, Amalia. It's-" but you couldn't finish your sentence, not when you turned back to her and saw nothing, no rise and fall of her chest, just vacant tearful eyes and pale sweaty skin.
It was always a danger you had faced, losing a mother to the complications that came with bearing an Illyrian child, a thing you knew all too well from birthing Nyx. It was your specialised field of mastery, the birthing of Illyrian babes, you had saved many that would not have stood a chance without you. You were a miracle to them, even the males at Windhaven had come to treat you with kindness, it wasn't often that they were thought of, and you made them feel cared for.
The room was solemn. The team of midwives that accompanied you to all of the births you attended worked slowly and respectfully, draping the thin cloth of her bed sheet over her face after washing her skin softly with lavender soaped sponges all whilst you rocked and cooed the innocent motherless child into slumber. Handing the small thing over to one of your midwives, you sniffled, you went to wipe your face with your sleeve but froze when you saw the blood trailing up your arms and let out a small sob in response.
There was only one thing, one person, that would be able to fix you.
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Windhaven was a place that Azriel hated you going to.
There was no doubt in his mind that you were the most extraordinary thing on the planet, but sometimes he wished that you had chosen a different specialty in your healing career. One that didn't make you feel so small, one that made you happy.
He knew something had gone wrong when he had sent a questioning love down the bond for it only to collide with a rock solid wall of iron clad fury. The bond only went silent when something was wrong. Every patient of yours was a friend, it was hard for people not to adore you, so it hurt you more when they left the world.
Footsteps scuffed up the pavement outside of your shared home and Azriel heard you sigh deeply before the handle turned and you stepped in.
The room was as it always was. Books, some medical and some historical, splayed across the coffee table, a fire dancing at the forefront of the room cascading the space in a golden glow, and two mugs of tea, one of which had long since had gone cold, on the side tables by your assigned spaces on the deep cobalt love seat.
Azriel scanned you for but a second before throwing his body over the edge of the seat and rushing to you. There was blood coating you, from your skirt up to your hair, your eyes were shocked and vacant, your lips were chapped and your cheeks were red and puffy. You had been crying.
Being no stranger to blood, Azriel took your hands in his and lifted them to his chest so that you could feel his heartbeat, so that you could centre yourself and bring your consciousness back to the land of the living. Then your gaze turned to him and your chest dropped, and Azriel knew what had happened, "Amalia?"
Shaking your head, you choked, "She didn't make it," tears pooled in your eyes and your face crumpled, "I promised her that she'd make it. There was no reason why she shouldn't have. I've been doing so well with the prenatal visits and the vitamins and the tonics, and she just," a sob broke through, "She just died."
Azriel ran his hands down the side of your face and continued to listen to your words, "What kind of healer am I if I can't save a woman, my friend, from the risks of childbirth? The risks I have dedicated my career to avoid? I've left a child without a mother, Az," you peered up at him, tears streaking down your face, collecting blood on their descent, "I'm a monster."
Unknowingly, you opened your side of the bond, and Azriel was flooded with your grief and anguish, your self loathing and doubt, and your all-consuming worthlessness, "Look at me, y/n. Look at me," he pulled your focus and smiled softly at you.
Azriel adored everything about you, but more than anything, he adored your kind soul and caring heart. You were the most magnificent thing he had ever come across.
The bond had snapped for him when he had been badly injured and Rhys had stormed into your little apartment above the pharmacy with Azriel strung over his shoulder. Despite your messy hair and askew nightgown, you worked endlessly to bring Azriel back from the brink, he truly believed he had entered heaven that day and that you were the one to guide him to the light.
He didn't realise that heaven could exist on earth until he met you.
It had taken months for you to release the bond between you, you were a busy thing, always researching and working on ways to save people from some of the most unavoidable events of life. One being childbirth. But during one certain sunset, when the sun was low and the sky was painted in pink and gold, did you feel that golden thread snap into place. Since then, you had been inseparable. He was your rock, the only one who could smash your soul into pieces and the only one who could put you back together, and you were his sunshine and rain, the only one who could cause him any real pain, but the only one who could clear his darkness and bring him into the light.
"None of the women you have saved would have stood a chance without you," blood covered your face like dirt, dusting but prominent, and your eyes were brimming with exhaustion, "I know it's hard, and that you feel worthless and like you're failing. But none of the women in this court could have survived without you, you are an angel, you have saved so many mothers and children that our study is bursting with gifts and flowers," you strained a smile, "I know that Amalia was your friend, I'm so sorry that you lost her, I know how much you wanted her to live."
"As much as we want to, we can't save everyone, y/n. All we can do is seek to save the next, to give another person a chance of a full beautiful life just like ours."
The obsession of non-Illyrian mothers had grown since you had accepted the bond with Azriel, you had never directly voiced why, but he knew you were trying to find a way for yourself to survive if the time ever came when you would carry his child. It was heart breaking to see it, to see you lose a patient and feel your own soul hang in the balance. It was heart breaking to know that you saw yourself as Amalia, broken and bloody and alone.
It had always been something you had wanted with him, a child of your own, with little black wings and shadows curling around him just like Az's. But you also wanted to live to see him grow. You weren't an Illyrian, which meant that you too were at risk of facing the same fate as Amalia's.
The fear in your eyes broke him.
"You are so worthy, so talented and determined that you put all of us to shame. You are the light of the Night Court, I'm just lucky that I get to bask in it daily. No wonder everyone is jealous that I get to call you my mate," a soft grin formed on his lips at your whispering giggle and he took your face in his hands, allowing his shadows to curl around your forearms and sooth the raging sadness within you, "I love you, y/n. I'm in awe of you every day. It's not easy to do what you do, to fall in love with the idea of saving people and breaking when the Mother decides to take one away. But it doesn't make you any less worthy or loved. You were put on this earth for a reason, to save people, and you will continue to do that because you are y/n, and you are my mate, and you wouldn't be you if you didn't. You save me everyday and you don't even know it."
The room had grown lighter, and the all-consuming anguish that had flowed down the bond had shifted, "Thank you," your eyes flickered across his face and your shoulders dropped.
Azriel tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear and sighed, taking you in his arms and holding you tightly against his chest, "Let's get you in a bath, hm?" he pulled away and looked down on you, tilting his head and drinking in your radiant beauty despite the sadness and stains on your skin, "Then I'm going to brush your hair and hold you and kiss you until you fall asleep, and then tomorrow, you save another life."
Nodding, you exhaled shakily, pulling him back to you as he went to lead you to the bathroom upstairs, no doubt to the already full tub that was big enough for both of you, he gazed at you in question, with a furrowed brow and fingers interlinked with your own, "I love you, you know that, don't you?"
The desperation in his voice made him want to scoop you up in his arms and show you exactly how much he adored you, but you were hurting, and you needed him in a wholly different way, "I know. I love you too. So much. Let's go and soak okay? I'll tell you who Nyx said was his favourite..."
Light beamed in your eyes and you wilfully allowed your body to be pulled by Azriel's grip, "If it's Cassian, I will riot."
The rest of the evening was spent in his arms, his fingers massaging your scalp and shoulders, wrapping around you and his lips pressing into the curve of your shoulder. Azriel brushed your hair, his touch so gentle and his shadows peppering their love for you across your face. And as you drifted into slumber, the symphony of your dreams were set by Azriel's voice, a low and sultry sound, reading to you, his fingers running through your hair and lips pressing into your hair line.
Not once did he take his hands off of you. Not once did he stop muttering how loved you were. And you knew that as long as he was by your side, you were invincible.
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