#it already has come close multiple times just this year alone

[madame-mongoose]

I wish mental health services were more easily accessible and certain mental illnesses weren't still demonized in the field

[lqvesoph]

A thin line between love and hate || LN4

landonorris x fewtrell!reader

enemies to lovers, brother’s best friend

Summary: Through your brother’s friendship with Lando Norris, your families have been interwined for as long as you can remember. Seven years had passed since you last saw your brother’s best friend, and you were thankful because he really was one huge pain in the ass. But now your families decided to go on vacation together, where the tension between the two of you shifts

Part 1

1.1k words

masterlist

Part 2

The days at the villa drifted by in a blur of sun-soaked mornings and leisurely afternoons. Despite the picturesque surroundings, there was no escaping Lando. It seemed as though everywhere you went, he was there—ready with a smirk, a taunt, or some infuriatingly charming quip.

At the beach, you were determined to enjoy the soft sand and glistening waves, but Lando’s presence loomed.

“You ever even touched a volleyball, Bambi?” he called out, twirling the ball on his fingertip as if it were the easiest thing in the world.

“I don’t need lessons from you,” you shot back, shielding your eyes from the sun with your hand.

“Oh, come on,” he teased, jogging over to you, his hair a mess of curls from the salty sea breeze. “I’ll go easy on you.”

“I doubt that,” you muttered.

Before you could protest further, he was standing beside you, closer than necessary, holding the ball out. “Just a quick tutorial. What’s the worst that could happen?”

You took the ball begrudgingly, ignoring the amused glances from Max, who lounged nearby under a sun umbrella, Pietra in his arms.

It didn’t take long for your “lesson” to descend into chaos. Every serve from Lando came with a side of mockery, and every return you attempted was met with a running commentary.

“Almost had it!” he laughed when the ball hit the net for the third time.

“Maybe if you weren’t distracting me—” you started, only to stop when he darted closer to grab the ball. His smirk was annoyingly close, the sun lighting up the mischief in his eyes.

“Distracting? You think I’m distracting?”

Max’s voice cut through the moment like a knife. “Oi, Lando, stop flirting before she decks you.”

Your cheeks burned. “He’s not flirting. He’s just being a pain, as usual.”

Lando didn’t miss a beat, his smirk deepening. “Maybe both.”

You turned away quickly, heading back to the water, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of his eyes on you.

That evening, after another lively family dinner, you found yourself alone in the villa’s spacious kitchen, stacking plates for the dishwasher. The sound of footsteps behind you made you glance up, already knowing who it was.

“Ever the helpful one,” Lando said, leaning against the counter with a lazy grin, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Some of us like to pull our weight,” you replied, keeping your focus on the plates. “I know that’s foreign territory for you, Mr. gets his meals prepped like child and has always someone to clean up after him,” you took a not so subtle dig at the boy.

But Lando didn’t even respond to it. “And here I thought you just liked avoiding me,” he teased, his tone lighter than usual.

“I don’t need to avoid you,” you shot back, stacking the last plate a little harder than necessary.

“No?” he asked, stepping closer.

When you turned to face him, your breath hitched. He was standing so close now, his presence filling the small space between the counters. The grin on his face had softened into something almost… sincere.

“Admit it,” he said, his voice quieter now, his gaze locked on yours. “You missed me.”

Your pulse quickened, but you refused to let him see how he was affecting you. “Missed your constant harassment? Not a chance.”

Lando chuckled, but the sound was low, almost intimate. “Come on, Bambi. Be honest.” He leaned in, his hands braced on the counter behind you, effectively caging you in.

You huffed. “I don’t even get the option to miss you. I’ve seen you multiple times on TV over the last five years, each Sunday actually.”

“Oh so you watch my races?” Lando teased with a smirk, licking his bottom lip, which caught your attention for a second too long. “No, my friends watch your races. I don’t. And I can’t miss you if I can’t go anywhere without seeing your face planted on a random store window!” you called, pressing back into the kitchen counter.

“And still, you’ve been watching me all week.”

The air felt too thick, his proximity making it hard to think. His scent—something clean and warm—washed over you, and your heart was pounding in your chest.

“What are you so afraid of?”

“I’m not afraid of anything,” you managed to say, your voice sharper than intended.

His lips twitched into a faint smirk. “Then why are you blushing?”

“I’m not—”

In a panic, you shoved at his chest, breaking the tension as he stepped back with a laugh. You crossed your arms, glaring at him, though your cheeks betrayed you with their warmth.

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, brushing past him to leave the kitchen.

But as you walked away, you could still feel his gaze on you, a lingering heat that stayed with you long after you left the room.

tg: @harrysdimple05

[lostalioth]

𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧

→ premise: all of deans life pain has always ran parallel to love. he needs them both, he needs you to hurt him and take the pain away all at the same time, turns out you were more than willing to, you may even need it reciprocated.

→ pairing: dean winchester x fem!reader

→ warnings: 2.3k words, small bit of angst that turns quickly into smut | 18+, kinda switch!dean, pain kink [slapping, biting, pinching, scratching, etc], praise kink [both reader and dean], unprotected sex, small bit of choking, multiple mentions of blood & reader nearly dying

→ a/n: kinktober 08

Dean was accustomed to pain, he learned to tolerate and push through it from a young age as his father hammered into him that it was his job to always look after Sam and conditioned him to become a hunter. Love always came alongside pain in his life, losing everybody he ever cared deeply for; it happened so often that he began to associate one with the other. And so somewhere along the way he came to yearn for both pain and love as he felt they always came together. When Dean began having feelings for you, he was scared like he’s never been before. He avoided telling you for a couple of years simply because he thought if he voiced it out loud then he'd lose you like he did everyone else.

However when a demon came very close to killing you when you were being reckless, that scared Dean a hell of a lot more and in a screaming match about it he revealed his feelings on accident.

“You couldve fucking died, ya’ know that right? If me and Sam got there even a minute later you’d have been laying in my arms dead not just unconscious” when he mentions sam, he gestures towards the couch in the small motel room where the younger brother last sat. Though when he turns to look over hoping for backup he finds Sam gone, he groans out in annoyance. Sam had figured it was best to leave the two of you to your fighting alone, yes he was also upset with your careless decision but not as heated as his brother.

“Well I didn't okay? I can take care of myself. I had it under control!” you scream out, punching your words out to get your point across, flailing your arms in frustration though the fast movement aggravates your injuries making you wince slightly. Seeing you in pain makes Dean stop short for a second, a ping in his chest as his heart aches, it however only morphs into making his blood boil more when the memory of finding you beaten and bloody on the floor of that warehouse flashes in his head. “I'm sooo glad you can take care of yourself, but what about me HUH?!” He screams out, sarcasm dripping from his voice until the latter half with his question where it breaks off taking you back. Confusion crosses your face but before you can say anything back to him he continues.

“I dont know what I’d fuckin’ do without you, im so pathetically and utterly in love with you that the thought of you dying makes me wanna lie in the dirt just so i can be buried with you!” he had been stepping closer and closer as he yelled out in frustration, not realizing exactly what he just said. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, the adrenaline from his confession and proximity coursing through your veins.

“You love me..?” Your voice comes out softer than Dean swears he's ever heard it before and it melts all the anger out of his body. He knew there was no turning back now that he blurted that out and even though he was worried more than ever, he couldn't stand not being with you anymore. “I think i fell in love the moment i met you sweetheart” he sighs and brings his rough hands up to cup your face and wipe away the tears you hadn’t noticed we're slowly falling from your eyes. After a long stretch of comfortable silence as the tension of the fight has dissipated you speak up.

“Would you just kiss me already ya’ idiot” you tease, smiling softly at him through your tears as you stare deep into those stupid green eyes that turn your brain to mush.

Using his hold on your face he pulls your lips against his in a desperate kiss, trying to drown out all the swarming negative voices in his head. Your soft lips mold against his perfectly and he thanks any and every god he can think of for letting him have something he knows he doesn’t deserve. Your eyes flutter shut as you kiss back, the fight over your thoughtless decision not forgotten but put on the back burner. You were deans the second you told him to kiss you and if you thought you were gonna be able to continue with your bad decisions boy were you in for a surprise, he just finally got you he wasn't ever letting go now. You grab at his chest, your hands balling up his shirt as you try pulling him impossibly closer deepening the kiss. In a tangled mess of limbs and mouths still latched to one another’s you and Dean tumble back and fall down onto the rundown motel bed. Dean landed on his back in the middle cushioning your fall with you landing on top of him between his legs.

“Baby..” he mumbles against your lips making your heart skip a bit at him calling you a name normally reserved for his impala. He even squeezes your hips lightly to break your focus from the make out.

“I need you to do something for me” he groans out as the kiss heats up and your tongue slips in his mouth during his statement, your hands running all over his chest and arms. Your body was pressed up to his, hips flush against each other making it impossible for you not to feel his hardening cock on your thigh. “Anything, what do you need, baby?” You question, desperate to please him and more than willing to do whatever he asks. Now Dean was well aware if he said jump you'd ask how high, he just hoped this request as odd as it was didn‘t make you run for the hills.

Reluctantly he pulls away from the kiss to catch his breath as well as watch your face when he tells you what he needs. You open your eyes and look at him with that same sparkle they always hold when your gaze is locked on him. His cock was getting painfully hard now from the mixture of the make out session and your body so close to him.

”I- shit okay im just gonna say it uh. I need you to hurt me. I just- I need you to get the image of you laying in a pool of your own blood barely breathing out of my head” he rambles, his voice sounding unfamiliar to his own ears with how pathetic it comes out. He silently prays you won't just get up and walk out of his life at his weird desire. He avoids eye contact when you are still silent after a minute. A fire ignites in your body and settles in your core as a million and one thoughts are running through your head at the speed of light. Every single last one however being the different things you wanna and finally get to do to Dean.

You grab ahold of Dean’s face squeezing it as you turn it so he is looking at you again. You now have a small taunting smile on your face, your nails are lightly digging into his cheeks making his cock twitch. “I can do that, but can you be a good boy?” You teasingly question as you lean up maneuvering your body so you're straddling his hips, peering down on him. The sight of you on his lap, thighs spread either side of his body and lust blown hooded eyes staring down at him knocks the breath from his lungs. It's an image pulled from his many dirty depraved dreams of you that riddled him with guilt but now it's a reality, his wonderful heaven like reality.

He frantically nods his head yes while your hand not pinching his face is working at undoing his belt.

“Gonna be such a good boy, can be s’good for you baby” he huffs out and lifts his hips to help you out as you pull his jeans down and off his legs. You let go of his face and dean has to fight back an actual whine when the small sting of pain leaves with it. Though he swallows his complaint as he watches you strip yourself of your dirty still blood soaked t-shirt, going at a teasingly slow pace when you undo your own belt pulling it through the loops and discarding it on the floor besides his pants. “Come on don't be a tease sweetheart please” he softly begs as he grabs your hips, thrusting his up to grind his bulge against your core. The rough fabric of your jeans sends a jolt of pleasure up his spine as it rubs over his aching boxer covered cock. You bite back a moan and slap his chest to stop him before lifting your body up to help you rid yourself of your remaining clothes. He is quickly behind you nearly ripping off his shirt and tugging down his boxers making his leaking cock bounce free between your bodies.

Saliva practically pools in Dean's mouth at the sight of you stripped bare for his eyes scanning over every inch of you. Your thighs spread back over his hips leaving your pussy on display for him, your slick coating his cock as your hips take up his previous action of grinding. “Such a good boy” you praise and lean down digging your nails into his sides, the pain making his eyes screw shut in bliss. Lifting your hips once again this time however sinking your pussy down onto his throbbing cock. Your slick and his precum help to aid your cunt into taking every inch of Dean's cock to the base as you smash your lips against his in a passionate kiss. The mixture of stinging pain and sweet praise and pleasure drown out all bad thoughts, all images that were flashing in Dean's head of your limp body unmoving and bleeding fade from his head finally, his only thought being of how good you feel.

“Mhmm~” He whines out in pleasure and surprise, the sound muffled in your mouth. Your hips immediately set into a rhythm of grinding and softly bouncing, his cock dragging across your velvety walls and his tip hitting your cervix when you bounce down. “Ah- Ahh~ fuck sweetheart knew this fuckin’ pussy feel amazing” he grunts out, his fingers holding onto your hips in a bruising grip that has your head spining. You bite down on his plush bottom lip in retaliation making a small almost growl erupt from his chest. The sound vibrates through your body to your core making your hips flatter a bit and a whine escapes your lips.

Within the blink of an eye dean has your legs wrapped around his waist when he sits up and flips your position breaking the kiss. Laying you flat on your back with him nestled between your thighs his cock still buried deep inside you. “Dean~” your whimper morphs into a wanton moan when his hips start at a punishing pace, your slick already forming a creamy ring at the base of his cock as it pounds into you. His heavy balls smacking your ass creating an obscene noise that fills the room with your moans and his grunts. “As much as i love how you sound and wanna hear it for the rest of my life baby, you gotta be quiet sweetheart” he taunts as his hand slips up the side of your body to palm at your bouncing tits. you whine out and paw at his lower stomach and v-line almost pushing him away slightly to stop his tip from abusing that one spot deep inside you. “Mm~ I can’t, it s’good, feels too good, i needa cum” you whine out your words slurring together as the knot in your stomach tightens. “Aww well don't want the staff or other guests hearing you scream my name now do we?” He questions with a small smirk that morphs into an almost slack jawed look when your nails dig into his back and drag down. The stinging pain of you scratching at his back so hard he's almost certain you drew blood makes his hips speed up even more.

“Bite down on my shoulder to muffle yourself when you cum okay baby?” He softens a bit though his hips don't slow down, you nod desperately in understanding. “That’s my good girl” he beams at you praising you in a sweet tone making your pussy clench down on his cock.

You grab at his hand that rests on your breasts and pull it up to your neck hoping he gets the message. A smile forms on his lips as what you want registered in his head, you wanted pain the same as him. Dean didn't think he could love you anymore than he did and yet as his hand wraps around your throat his heart swells, you're the same as him, you needed the pain with the love and pleasure, he was the luckiest fucking man alive in this moment. He smirks and softly kisses your lips as he leans down and his cock somehow reaches even deeper inside you.

The new angle causes the knot in your core to snap and your high to crash into you, making you pull away from his mouth and bury your face in his shoulder. Baring your teeth you bite down a bit hard onto his shoulder to muffle your loud moans and cries as you cream on his cock. “Oh fuck yeah, there we go sweetheart good girl baby” he praises, his head going foggy in pain and pleasure as his climax hits him head on, spilling his cum deep inside you not caring about the loud noises that leave his own mouth.

→ a/n: as always this wasnt proofread and its late, whos shocked? anyway i got a bit carried away well more like a lot. this is only my second time writing for dean and i got excited i really like writing for him. It is however my first time writing smut for him so sorry if hes out of character.

[prettiedup]

can u do more tojiii 🧁

young & beautiful ୨ৎ

your parents are on a business trip, which gives you more freedom than a sheltered 20 year old should have. they left the country thinking their daughter would continue to drive around your suburban neighborhood, continue going to both your ballet and pilate classes, go to your college classes and stay there retaining all of the information you possibly can. it’s the basic things they expected of you.

little did they know you were far far from home. your expensive shoes plopped against the cracked concrete. in the distance, you could hear the sound of multiple police sirens ringing throughout. they seemed to grow close before disappearing and the crying sirens becomes quieter and quieter. your eyes take in the environment in front of you, the buildings that you could tell were once vibrant now lost their color. cracks and chunks of the bricks used to build them up were missing and large colorful vandalism littered spots on the buildings. corner stores with peeling paint and flickering neon signs offer a glimpse of the local people here struggling to survive.

it feels like a gray filter is casted on this side of town. and with winter being seconds away from approaching, everything is colder and dull. the sky grumbles, threatening—no, warning people of what’s to come. a group of guys are standing at a trash littered corner as you and toji past by them. you curiously look at their faces, they’re all already looking at you with a gleam in their eyes. you gasp to yourself and clutch toji’s hand tighter in fear.

“got ya’ a young one!” one of the guys call out to toji, “bet that pussy’s nice ‘nd tight!”

toji walks faster, his grip tightening on your hand. you struggle to keep up with his fast steps. his normal walking is your fast walking, you’re almost on the borderline of jogging. the fall air sores through your chest as you continue looking around the neighborhood curiously.

the two of you walk until you get to a worn down building. it’s littered with moss, vines, and graffiti. toji lets go of your hand to pick out a single key in his pocket.

“go inside. i’ll be back.” he tells you. you can’t stop yourself from frowning.

“i-what? no!” you say with widened eyes. as interesting as it is to be in a part of town that your parents demanded you never come over, things are still dangerous. the thought of going into a building you’ve never been inside and just waiting for him has your heart thumping in fear. anything could happen while he’s gone.

“‘m not askin’.” he could see you trying to form up some rebuttal, some way to argue with him and he can’t stop himself from rolling his eyes. “i’ll only be gone for about ten minutes. you can be a good girl and wait for ten minutes, right?”

you’re stiffly nodding your head while looking up at him. you try to convince yourself that ten minutes is not that long of a wait.

“i’ll knock six times and then say ‘gumi’. if someone knocks but doesn’t say the code word don’t open the door, understand?” he speaks carefully while looking into your eyes. he’s hoping all of his words are actually sticking and not just going through one ear and flowing out the other.

“fine..” you’re sighing and pouting, hoping that that’ll make him for bad for leaving you alone so soon.

he examines your face for a few seconds. he doesn’t say anything, the two of you quietly look into each other’s faces until a dog barks and interrupts you both. toji steps back, giving you more personal space.

you don’t know if you’re supposed to give him a kiss or hug goodbye. your relationship with him is still new and timid at times. your feet are moving before you realize it and your arms have a mind of their own as they wrap around his figure. to your surprise, toji accepts your hug, though it is awkward. he pats your head like some dog.

after a few prolonged seconds, he’s pulling you away from him. “alright, kid. go inside.”

and you listen. with shaky hands, you bring the key to the knob. to your dismay, it takes only a second to unlock the door. the door creaks as it slowly opens. you look back at toji one more time, he’s still waiting for you to go completely inside before walking away.

you let out a breath before stepping into his house. you make sure to lock the door behind you.

the inside of the house is sparsely furnished with basic necessities—a worn-out couch, a small dining table with mismatched chairs. there are warm tones of the walls try to add a comforting touch to the otherwise bleak space, but they can't hide the signs of neglect. the floorboards creak with every step, and the curtains are thin, barely filtering out the dim light from the outside light. you’re used to big elegant houses so to see something so small and compact has your eyebrows rising. as you tour throughout the entire house, every room is just about the same. bare with just hints of being lived in. you curiously open the refrigerator, you’re met with nothing. just a bottle of half drunken hennessy, and a sandwich. you’re in disbelief that someone actually lives like this.

luckily, the electricity worked. you turned the heat up before trailing into his bedroom. the room is a master, it has a queen sized bed in the middle of the floor and a single dresser with a tv sitting on top of it. you strip out of your clothing besides your bra and panties. you rummage through his drawers until you find a solid black shirt. you put it on, it fits you like an oversized dress. it stops right under your ass and the littlest movement would expose it off. you fold your discarded clothes, and place them on top of his dresser. you grab your phone and lay down on his bed.

his house is quiet. too quiet. there’s nothing to hear besides your thoughts. you can’t help but to wonder how he lives like this. so alone with nothing but his thoughts. you sigh out to yourself, it’s almost close to the ten minute mark.

you mindlessly scroll on your phone until you finally hear it. you rush out of his bed and make a straight line to the door.

knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock.

“gumi.”

you let out a breath and swing the door open. toji stands there with a. smug smirk on his face. as you look up at him, breathless, you notice a newfound small scar on his cheek.

“you don’t look happy t’see me, cutie.” toji practically pushes you to the side. you’re unsteady on your feet before catching your balance.

“no! i am! i’m very happy!” you exclaim. you watch as his fingers go to unzip his jacket, your eyes widen when you realize his knuckles are red and bruised.

his eyes follow what you’re looking at and when he realizes you’re reacting to his bruised knuckles he just chuckles. "i see you made yourself comfortable." he comments.

you bite down on your lip trying to hide your giddy smile. "it smells like you.”

toji only hums at your statement. he walks through his house and you follow behind him like a lost puppy. your uncertain steps travel closely behind his confident ones. he leads you to the bathroom, you don’t know if you should stop at the door or continue to waltz through.

“c’mon.” he ushers you.

he turns the shower on and lets it run for a little. he takes the time to take his clothes off, he smirks to himself when he sees your curious eyes linger on every inch of his body. once he’s bare, he walks over to you, pulling you closer to him. his hands wonder on your body before he’s tugging on your shirt, signaling that he wants it off. he helps you undress yourself, once you’re naked in front of him, he’s ogling at your body while letting out a pleased whistle.

“step in.” he tells you.

you follow his directions and step in the tub. now that you’re actually in it. the tub is quite condemned and with how big toji is you briefly wonder if the two of you are going to fit.

he hands you a white rag before stepping in behind you. you’re stiff, you’ve never showered with another person, ever. you’re used to showering in luxury bathrooms with the upmost space. you see that there’s only one bottle of body wash, which is also something you’re not used to. you use a plethora of skincare products that make you feel nice and clean, not some off-brand from the convenience store.

“since it seems like you don’t know how to wash yourself.” toji tuts before taking the rag out of your hands. he pours a nice amount of gel on the fabric before wetting it.

the feeling of his hands cascading around your body is .. weird. his movements are extremely gentle, he touches you like you’re some sort or sensitive rare artifact. you find yourself relaxing against his body as he cleans you. he starts from the neck and works his way down, even going so far as to clean the inside of your intimate areas with just water. you try to return the favor to him. he insists on washing himself but he does let you wash his back. once the two of you are cleaned, you stay under the slowly turning cold water until it’s fully freezing.

there’s only one towel out when you two step out. you look up at toji cautiously.

“forgot to grab the other.” he shrugs. he wraps the towel around your body and then opens the bathroom door.

you two make your way to his bedroom. you could hear the sound of rain pattering against the roof and occasional thunder blooming throughout the air. toji turns on a single lamp as a source of light.

the two of you dry off in your own towels. once you’re dry, you’re looking up at toji. the very few times you’ve been around him it feels like your brain stops working and you have to look at from guidance. you can’t tell if he gets annoyed by it or not, if he does he doesn’t say anything.

toji guides you to sit on the edge of the bed. before you could ask why, his lips are on yours. he kisses you greedily, he sucks up both your tongue and air. with you being not so experienced, you struggle to keep up with his experienced mechanisms. you can’t stop yourself from leaning back, and toji follows you. he makes sure not to drop his entire weight so that he wouldn’t crush you.

the two of you continue to sloppily make out for a while, the kiss morphing from just lips to tongue and spit swapping. you let out a soft moan as toji begins grinding his growing hard on against your clit.

he slowly pulls his lips away from your lips and moves his lipa down to your jaw and neck. he kisses you and occasionally licks spots here and there, he makes sure not to leave any spots on your neck. he’s grown now, if he was still in his early 20’s he would’ve left marks to let people know there’s already a claim on you. but he’s past that childish point in his life.

“y’wanna get fucked, baby? hm? ‘s that why you came alway over here?” he taunts you. his hips are moving faster and one incorrect slip up would have his cock slipping right inside your wet cunt.

“y-yes. please.” breathy gasps are escaping past your lips. the friction he’s creating is so delicious and addictive.

“g’na give it to you, baby. g’na fuck this pussy. g’na mold it to fit only my cock.” he’s letting out a drawn out groan as he slides his cock into you. you’re both moaning out to each other. the second all of his cock is fit into you, he’s immediately pulling his cock out only to slam it back inside of you.

he straightens his back, putting some distance between the two of you. he grabs your legs and places them on his shoulders. he watches as your boobs bounce with every rough thrust. his eyes trails along your body, the sight of you frantically clutching the bedsheets while still carrying this angelic look has him growing even harder.

“fuck.” you whimper out. his cock is so thick and it fills you up so well. “feel’s s-so good, tojiii.” you moan.

“mhmm. g’na let me fill this pussy up, ‘mma put a baby in you.” his breathing becoming heavier and you can’t help but gush out some more wetness at his claims of breeding.

“fuck a baby ‘nto me, toii, pleaseee.” you moan out.

toji grins at your words. if a baby is what you want, that’s what he’ll give to you.

[shiggybrainr0t]

shouto todoroki x reader

word count: 2k

warnings: reader has hair that can be tucked behind their ear, reader is bullied, forced self-harm (forced to pinch their cheeks)

a/n: this is my entry for @bloompompom ‘s “to all the fictional boys I’ve loved before” writing collab!!! the rom com I chose was ‘Ella enchanted’ because I instantly knew Shouto would fit perfectly ❤️ thank you for letting me join!! i love this but I also think it is not my best work and kind of cringey 💀 this was also inspired by many kdrama cliches djsjsks

summary: you have a quirk that makes you obey every command you are given. if only there was a prince who could come save you? or better yet, help you save yourself.

You're six years old when you develop your quirk. Your parents had taken you to the doctor, scared that you were quirkless, which in turn made you scared as well. The doctor reassured them that everything seemed fine, and your quirk should develop soon. Who would have thought that being quirkless would have been better.

It happened one day in kindergarten. Your then best friend was mad at you because you didn’t want to play dodgeball, and instead wanted to sit in the sandpit. In the heat of her anger, she screeched at you to “go eat rocks!” only to be shocked whenever you stiffly got up and did just that.

Your teacher was horrified when she was dragged over by your friend to see you, with gravel filling your mouth and tears running down your cheeks. When asked why, all you could simply muster was that you had too. You ended that day with a trip to the ER, multiple cuts inside your mouth, and a broken tooth.

Looking back, your quirk probably had already developed. You were known to be a very obedient child— it just took something extreme to clue everyone in. And it would only go downhill from there.

Your parents didn’t mean to take advantage of your quirk. Normal parental comments like “eat all your vegetables” and “go clean your room” just meant that you couldn’t talk back and had to follow the commands instantly. It became a habit almost to voice their requests as demands instead of suggestions or requests. You couldn’t fault them for it really. Especially not whenever they praised your good behavior in front of others, always so proud of their perfectly behaved child. Eventually, when you stopped talking as much and began secluding yourself more to avoid the feeling of your body and mind being forced to do something, they didn’t really seem to notice.

It was a day in your last year of high school that you met Shouto. You had always noticed him of course. Your general studies class and his hero class had been keeping the same lunch time for your entire high school career. He was princely in his stoicism. Perfect face not marred by his scar, only enhanced. He moved like an elegant dancer— every move calculated and on point. It would be no surprise to anyone that you had started harboring a crush on the fellow student. Who hadn’t had a crush on him would be the better question.

Alone at your table in the corner, you’d admire Shouto and his friends at lunch. They always looked like they were so close— the whole class did to be honest. Deku and the others were the only ones who you ever saw crack that perfect facade. A tiny smile here, a barely wrinkled brow there. It was magical to watch. The prince and his court.

You were glad he had made friends. You couldn’t say the same. Try as you might, you just couldn’t keep your quirk a secret. And once one person knew, it wasn’t long until there were many people taking advantage of it. You had gotten by relatively unscathed so far. You mostly got orders to do others homework and class chores. Many afternoons it was only you left in the classroom working away without choice, trying to finish the class chores before dark.

Your only reprieve came in the home room teacher of said prince: Aizawa. He had learned of your quirk, and it only took him one afternoon seeing you doing the chores alone for him to figure out the bullying. You refused to tattle, knowing that it would only make things worse, but he was able to release you from the power of your classmates’ demands.

You were given a strict suggestion, not an order though this time you don’t think you would have minded, to come find him anytime you needed his help. No adult had ever helped you like this before. All of your parent’s friends fawned over your quirk, and lamented about how they wished their own children had developed the same quirk. They had no idea.

It was an afternoon where the sun was shining brightly. A perfect day for something ugly to happen— especially to someone with luck like yours. There was one girl in your class who always had it out for you. You didn’t know why, you had never even talked to her. Your attempts to remain unseen unfortunately did not work this day, because for some reason the most popular boy in your class had decided he thought you were cute and voiced that to his friends.

Enraged, the girl hissed at you after class in a voice filled with venom, “He won’t think you’re cute if your face is full of bruises. Pinch yourself and don’t stop.” As your body filled with syrupy static and your hand raised to your cheek to grasp it in a hard pinch, you fled to try and find the only man who could make you stop.

By the time you made it to the hero department, your cheeks were sore and tears had filled your eyes. You didn’t even notice the prince you had always admired from the top of your tower pause as you sped by, face marred by a frown at your distraught expression.

The pro hero was obviously unamused by how you refused to tell who had made you pinch yourself. A trip to Recovery Girl however had you right as rain, and you were honestly ready for the day to just be over. The last thing you were expecting was Shouto to be standing outside the nurse’s room waiting for you. His face serious and his large arms crossed over his chest. His uniform fit him perfectly, you noticed, like it was tailored just for him.

“I’ve heard about you.”

Your mouth dropped open without your permission . His voice, deep and smooth, glided over you like water and cooled on your skin.

“You have a quirk that makes you do what people tell you to do.”

You had heard about his blunt nature, but hearing it for the first time in person shocked you. At your timid nod, his brow furrowed, and his eyes gave you a once over quickly.

“You can come get me. If you ever need help.” With this statement he pushed off the wall, and without a goodbye walked away.

You tell yourself that it’s just in Shouto’s nature to help people in need. He is in the hero course, so naturally he would follow you whenever he saw you were distress. Shouto being, well Shouto, makes it very hard to keep this in mind.

After the pinching incident, you seemed to have become a target for your classmates’ anger and frustrations. One classmate failed an English test, and to make themselves feel better they ordered you to jump on one foot until you couldn’t anymore.

Eventually left alone in the hallway, your jumping not being entertaining enough to them anymore, your saving grace came in the form of your prince. You don’t know why he was in the general studies section of the school, but you couldn’t complain— multiple students had walked by you with barely a glance. He walked over to you quickly and put a hand on your waist.

“Stop.” His voice cleared the haze in your mind making you obey, and his cool hand kept you steady as you wobbled, unstable after jumping for so long. Shouto straightened your uniform jacket with nimble fingers before walking away, leaving before you could even say thank you.

The next big incident came in the form of you being told to dump your glass of water over your head in front of everyone in the cafeteria. You quickly ran off afterwards, and your prince followed only a few feet behind.

Staring at yourself in the bathroom mirror, your shoulders dropped. The bathroom door opening suddenly made you whirl around, heart racing whenever you saw the signature two toned hair of Shouto.

You had never seen this much emotion on his face before. He looked angry as he stalked over to you. He grabbed the paper towels you were using to dry yourself, and his hand raised up close to your face. The air around you turned warm. Steam surrounded you as he evaporated the water from your hair and down to your shoulders. You were reminded of how you would sit in front of the heater after playing in the snow as a child, defrosting contently.

“Why don’t you tell the teacher who does this?” His voice was soft, a contrast to his angry demeanor.

You looked up at him, and saw how genuine he was. He cared so much about the wellbeing of a stranger. A prince indeed. You decided to take a big step, and tell him something you’ve never told anyone.

“I-I can’t.”

Your voice was meek, and his face turned stoic as he took in your answer.

“You can’t, as in someone ordered you not to.”

It wasn’t a question but you nodded nonetheless.

“You know there is a loophole for this, yes?” He said it so simply, no judgement in his voice, only the same warmth.

With a sigh, you begin to explain. “Their dad is my dad’s boss, and somehow they figured this out.”

With a hum, Shouto grabbed a strand of your hair between his nimble fingers. He twirled it around before tucking it behind your ear and smiling. It was like looking at the sun.

“I think I can help.”

He held your hand as you both walked back to the cafeteria. It was his fire side, and the warmth radiated up your arm and into your heart. Before you both entered the cafeteria, he spoke.

“I know you can’t verbally tell me who is responsible for this, but whenever I point them out I want you to squeeze my hand. I already have some idea.”

To show him you understood, you gave his hand a shy squeeze. This made him send a small smile your way, and you could feel the breath physically leave your lungs.

Shouto confidently walks you to the right table, leaving a quiet room after him. Everyone seemed shocked to see you both hand in hand, except his friends. Glancing over quickly you could see that Deku and Ochaco had large grins on their faces, while Iida was nodding in what you could only interpret as aggressive approval.

Your classmates stared at the both of you in trepidation as you and Shouto came to a stop in front of their table. Without saying anything, Shouto quickly pointed at the girl who had always had it out for you, and made sure the rest of the class began to feel the same way. Surprised he knew so fast, you squeezed his hand, heart beating furiously.

“I see.” Was all he said, and you watched as the girl’s face turned pale in the glory of his ire.

The next few days seemed to happen in a blur. Shouto had taken you straight to Aizawa to tell him who your tormentor was, as well as the concerns that held you back from using the loophole of your quirk sooner. The next day, the girl and her family met you in Nezu’s office to apologize.

They bowed to you, and the father told you that he was relocating himself and his family to South Korea, so there would be no worry of any retaliation against your father. Your father might even get a promotion. You noticed how pale he seemed as he looked at the tall figure looming behind you, icy hot eyes staring the man down.

Later that day, you stood shyly in front of a stoic Shouto, trying to put into words how grateful you were.

“That wasn’t the first time I had noticed you, you know.” He spoke first.

“What?”

“I’ve um. I’ve always thought you were really pretty.”

Shouto looked away from you suddenly, bringing a hand up to scratch the back of his head. A soft pink highlighted the tips of his ears.

“I’ve always thought you were really handsome as well.”

Shouto’s head snapped back towards you in surprise. Before he speaks, his eyes focused over your shoulder and his expression crumpled. You looked behind you, shocked to see Deku, Ochaco, and Iida peeking out from behind the corner. Deku was exaggerating his expressions and mouthing “ask them out!” They spot you looking and quickly popped back behind the wall.

You laugh brightly, and find your confidence.

“Will you go out with me, Shouto?”

[fillinforlater]

On her back

Male Reader x Bae Joohyun

Length: 2958 words

Tags: Daddy kink, Master kink, breeding kink, literal breeding, like impregnation, rough sex, mating press (for literal, REAL mating), from loving to degradation, emotional manipulation, teasing, overstimulation, multiple creampies, spitting, toxic relationships

TW: rough impregnation, emotional manipulation, the usual "On her" stuff

Inspiration/Credit: not possible without @sooyadelicacies, my great co-writer and inspirator

(A/N: Reminder that OC is an asshole and that this is fiction. Anyways, rough daddy kink breeding sex, yay. Enjoy a subby!Irene lol. Btw, it's been more than a year since Part 1 came out!)

“I’m here if you need a break from all these youngsters xoxo”

You are alone in the backseat of a Mercedes-Benz, quietly sipping on a cool, refreshing beverage with your airpods in. You need to destress and know just the person to see. You put your drink down and begin to close your eyes, settling in for a quick nap before you arrive at your destination. 

Maybe it was only a few minutes, maybe it was much longer than that, but you feel the car stop and you begin to wake. 

"We have arrived, sir."

Looking out, you find a beautiful secluded home surrounded by lush greenery. One of your many getaways. 

"Thank you, as always," you say politely as the door opens up for you and you're handed your luggage. You stroll up to the door and put in the passcode as well as the biometric scan of your fingerprint. But before you turn the knob, the door already opens and you are greeted by a stunning beauty. 

"Irene," you say simply. 

"Hello, my love."

"It's been a while," you add, a sigh on your lips, but you keep it down.

"It really has," the small woman responds, hands fidgeting on her sides as she just stands there, her boundless beauty that will persist for decades to come filling the air like the strong, vibrant smell of ripe fruits.

"God, you're so fucking pretty." 

This time, the sigh is at least palpable in the aftermath of your words when your arms reach out to her. Joohyun tenses up for a seconds before your embrace reaches her, caresses her back and finds rest on her butt. With ease, you pick the petite idol up and Joohyun's legs instinctively wrap around you.

You kiss her gently, lovingly. "Still tensing up? I thought I trained it out of you?" you tease. 

She blushes. "It's been a long time, Ma—" 

"Shh, not yet. There will be time for that. I need my lover right now, not my toy."

A soft smile on her face. One in a million, quite literally: days and weeks and months go by where she can never feel like this around someone else. They all make her put on the cold, reserved, distant smile, but with you finally by her side, she melts.

At least the temperature of her palms cupping your face is able to melt ice in seconds. Joohyun leans close to you and presses her lips on yours, her passion coming over you in a quiet explosion. A tad bit quicker, a little more tongue when she parts your lips, now you pull her in closer.

"God, I've missed this," she coos and you brush away her astray hair. 

"I have been busy... the young ones are quite—"

"Difficult? Always have been. Think of me back then."

You can't help but smile at the memories, though they also make your cock twitch against its cotton prison. Joohyun giggles. She must feel it poking her exposed midriff. 

"Those were fun times, but you know I'm still as tight as ever, only with more experience now. I promise I'll take away all of your stress today." 

"I know you will. That's why you know of this place. It's a short list, Irene." 

She smiles happily and melts her lips into yours once more.

With her secured around you, you wander off, straight to the bedroom, careful not to bump into anything on your way. There are easily a hundred idols you'd just violently throw onto a bed like this and then destroy their tight pussies, but with Joohyun you remain careful for now. Lay her down on it, never disconnecting your lips.

Joohyun starts to undress immediately and instead of following suit, you decide to watch her. Many months ago was the last time you've seen her bare body—at least in real life, up close. There are dozens of videos you've filmed with her and she even sent nudes last month, a rarity for the outwardly timid idol.

"You're skin," you groan and reach for her bare tummy, then breasts. "Still porcelain, still smooth and perfect."

"Th-thank you. I made sure it's perfect, just for you."

"Not for the fans, not for the members? Not for your own self-gratification?"

"Only for you, my Master."

There she goes. 

"Music to my ears. Hearing such obedience. It's rare to find that nowadays, I wonder if my methods are getting stale?" 

You muse, but she knew it was your way of asking for her opinion, her advice. Bae Joohyun was an intelligent woman and admirable leader after all, and she knew all the tricks in the outside idol world and in your bedroom.

"Are you concerned about the outcome, even with all your leverage? Or is it getting too boring for you?" Before Joohyun can continue, you rub in between her legs, over her modest panties to find a little bit of wetness there. Joohyun opens her mouth; no moan, no breath, she just sinks into the sheets. "I-I just don't see the problem."

"They are just so damn cocky and continue to be. Disobedience, arrogance, self-centeredness, it's all running rampant nowadays."

"We weren't any better back then."

Press a finger onto her pussy lips, the fabric disappearing a bit into the increasingly aroused hole.

"Oh, you think so?"

"Ye-yes, Master. Suzy, IU, Jennie, even I—we were all a lot of trouble for you. I remember the reeducation training with Jessica and Nana. Maybe some things never change—ah, fuck."

Joohyun moans when your tongue trails along the side of her body, up to her collarbone where you place kisses. She is now trapped underneath you and with all your experience and ease, you join her in her (almost) nude state. 

Instead of your finger you place a knee on Joohyun's covered heat and she instinctively grinds on it and loses herself in needy, desperate, good girl whines. She starts to pout and you rake your fingers through her hair like—

"Like in good old times." Your deep groan fills Joohyun with love.

"Yes, Master."

"You know how to grind on this knee. You know how to make yourself look submissive. You know how to combust into nothing but bliss when I just command you too.

"Don't you, Irene?"

"Y-yes, Master! You're so good to me."

Joohyun hesitates and whimpers for a moment, looking at you. 

"Master… call me Joohyun please. Irene is for everybody else, but I am Joohyun and I am yours, my Master. Your whore, your slave." 

The shortlist came with perks. She could make such requests of you. 

"Jennie was one of the worst, but she is one of my biggest sluts, so I guess it only makes sense." You think out loud. 

"Joohyun, is it true Red Velvet will have their last comeback soon?" 

She can only nod and hum. 

"I'll have to fuck you after then too… to breed you." 

Her eyes widen and you feel a great dampness in her folds. 

"Master, it will finally be my turn?" 

"We've discussed this before." 

"I-I know… but I said you could breed me before then. You know I would give up my career for you, Master. I only wish to be your cumdump."

There she goes, melting into a shape you have foreseen years ago. Of course she has been ready for it, but the time is right right now.

"Good girl."

You pull aside her panties and give her pussy lips tiny smacks. Joohyun starts to mewl and whimper in this perfect pitch, the pitch only your hand can make her reach.

"M-Master, hng!"

"This hole is ready to be bred." Indeed, you find it to be exceptional compared to even to your best youngsters, perfect, especially the wetness is extraordinary. "Now spread your legs and tell me how much you need it."

"Master, I've needed it since I underwent your training. I didn't allow any man to touch me but you, Master. I am pure. I-I stopped any form of contraceptive. I've been waiting. I'm ready to walk away from being an idol because all I want is you, Master. I see comments online, I know people call me Mommy because of my age and looks, but the only Mommy I want to be is for your child, Master. Breed me please. I am your good girl. I always have been. This whore, this slut, needs her Master to complete my training, to make me your breeding bitch."

You deem these words to be enough, excessive even. There was no need for all of them to be said out loud, you could clearly see it in her eyes, the wanton desire for your cock creaming inside her.  Some people might call it cruel to her, but the last person to call it cruel is Joohyun herself.

You penetrate her gracefully, something she has not experienced ever. There was always a need to destroy her pussy; after all, Joohyun was once a defiant bitch. Nothing of this is left as she ecstatically welcomes you inside, dopamine flushing her brain, passion in the way she moans, laughs when you bottom out.

"Daddy!"

"Squeeze tight, Joohyun. I need you to make me cum as often as you can and keep it all down, so you better be the tightest girl ever tonight."

"I'm Daddy's tight girl, just breed me and I'll not lose any of your seed."

"Stick your tongue out."

Joohyun does as told and you let some of your saliva spill out onto your tongue before it oozes down to her. You always found her cock drunk expression thrilling, this one probably being its greatest form when you start to thrust into her as she still tries to catch your gift.

She pouts, as your saliva misses her just a bit and drips on her body. 

"If they saw you now—Irene, everyone's ice queen—reduced to nothing but my personal whore, a Daddy and Master kink too? Some people think you're a bitch in how you behave and treat others. They are right in a way, aren't they darling? 

“You are my bitch.”

"Ma-Master, you are right," Joohyun moans, her response interrupted by ragged breaths. "I-I'm your bitch, a bitch in heat. Do-do you like the hot pussy of this ice slave?"

Has she always been this humorous? A circle around her clit, just a rub, and her eyes are wide open. Joohyun looks so different in bed, a different kind of gorgeous from her stage presence during songs with the velvet-concept. You appreciate both, but this is clearly your favorite.

"Good that it's still tight," you groan and pound her harder. "I bottomed out a thousand times and still your grip is... fuck."

"Yes, Master, please praise my pussy more!"

"Isn't this enough praise, bitch?" you say in rhythm to slower but significantly harder thrust, the type to make inexperienced girls limp and screaming. Not Joohyun, she takes it well, though her voice still breaks at the rough pleasure forced upon her needy sex.

Joohyun stretches her arms out, holds onto the frame of the bed while you force her feet further apart and higher in the air. She looks stupid, an embarrassing position for an idol of her class to be in. 

"Yes, Master!" she suddenly howls when your finger presses into the flesh of her thighs. "I don't want to dance anymore, make me unable to dance!"

"When I'm fucking done with you, don't even think about getting out of bed." You lean down to her sweaty, burning face and nibble at her jaw. "Don't move on your own before I've filled your entire womb!"

"Yes, Master.” Joohyun struggles to catch her breath, her words somewhere up in the air along with your face deliberately drooling down on her. “It's time isn't it? Please make me pregnant. I've been waiting for so long, Master, I've been patient and good—" 

"In due time, Joohyun, but you will take it all the way in your womb until you're dripping and spilling seed everywhere. One day.” Your promise is sincere, partially because Joohyun’s rippling pussy has your voice a bit strained. Rejecting her would be pointless, really, her pussy could just will you in and if she’s really not taking contraceptives— 

“I've heard your contracts are up in the air. Are you really going to throw it all away for your Master?"

Joohyun puckers her lips for you to kiss, barely able to squeeze out words through them and her forced out moans.

"Yes, M-Master! I don't care about the contracts, I only want your child."

"Then show me that cute little face," you say, teasingly leaning down to her lips searching for yours but not getting them. "The one you make when you cum on my cock like the good slut I trained you to be."

Joohyun is almost at that point of peak devotion, where she can almost will herself to an orgasm just from your command, but it's still too many almosts. You still have to lay a hand on her clit, the other on her waist and move both your hips and hands in quick, stimulating fashion until Joohyun squeaks like it's her first time in your bedroom. 

The night you tamed her, many, many moons ago, was a great achievement, because you know she would still be drop dead gorgeous when you decide to do this to her. Without giving Joohyun any signs of your imminent orgasm, you cream her the moment the pleasure over takes her. 

Her cute expression of bliss and submission to your superior frame is flooded with ecstasy and pride when you flood her cavern and womb with a thick load that is meant to stick inside her and eventually form a baby. Joohyun frantically holds onto your arms stabilizing her ever twitching body, her glassy eyes looking at you in reverence and servility. 

"Th-thank you, Master," she whispers, her face and chest flushed with happiness, both a bit puffed from pride and soreness as her walls still milk you. "It feels so warm."

"I know what you're feeling," you coo into her ear and feel her burn up even more. "Finally, no condom, no contraceptive, nothing blocking my seed from blooming in your tight tummy. Every orgasm before this pales in comparison, because this one was real.

"So I'm giving you more."

"Ma-Master, I don't deserv—ahh!"

You put every vampire to shame when you furiously bite down on a pale sweet spot between Joohyun's neck and shoulder. Unlike vampires however, the faint taste of blood pulls you back to reality, that it's better to just fuck Joohyun's cum-filled cunt deeper than getting your teeth into her deeper. Nonetheless, the euphoric girl has both arms around you and tightly clings to you.

"Ma-Master," she cries out. "I ca-can't take it any-anymore."

"Don't care," you growl, empathy foreign to you. "I don't care if your pretty feet or legs or hips go numb. You'll take my cock until I want to stop."

You glare at her, eyelids hiding sniveling, tears begging for mercy as once again, overstimulation breaks her. What a weakness to still have. It’s part of Joohyun, sure, but you thought she would’ve grown past it, especially for this moment.

"You wanted this Joohyun. You wanted Master to breed you. You begged for it, don't you fucking bitch to me now. Did I make a mistake in choosing you? Are you really ready to give up your idol career if you can't handle me like this?" 

Every word sliced into her. It's been ages since you broke her down like this, not just physically and sexually, but verbally. It was like she was your trainee all over again, a dominant, crushing hand on her throat, an unrelenting pelvis crashing down on hers.

"I will fuck you for however long I want..." 

You pause for a moment and choke her even harder. 

"Suzy can take it. Why can't you?"

"I can, Daddy!” Joohyun screams, finally fighting for herself against herself. “Make me a baby mommy, don't listen to my stupid mouth. You, you own this pussy!"

Feel Joohyun's pussy struggle to take all the cock and cum when you fold her to a painful degree and watch her face become just a canvas for tears. It's also red, like her bleeding shoulder or her round butt which you spank over and over again, red like her sore pussy lips or her insides. 

"Good thing that you're still tight," you scold Joohyun and spit at her face. "At least your pussy is trying to make your real dream come true."

"Master, I'm cumming."

"Shut up. I don’t care. Put your own fingers around your throat. Spread your pussy lips. Look at me, while I destroy you.

"While I end your career, Irene."

A second load, pumped and mixed into the first and ultimately overflowing from Joohyun's gaping hole. The moment you pull out, she knows that this will be it. She is going to be pregnant, no way around it.

You gently cup her face, look at an expression of bewilderment, hurt, happiness, sadness, pain, confusion. Not the first time that you've destroyed a young woman like this while making her pregnant. A kiss to ease the pain a bit, she thinks, but it's just a set up for a reality check.

"I'm a bit disappointed," you tell her. "I needed your full devotion, but it seems you have forgotten how to take a second load.

"That said, I don't regret it. You're beautiful and ready. I think your group deserves one more comeback, then you can tell them what happened."

"Th-thank you, Daddy."

"You can stop choking yourself, by the way."

"Yes, Daddy. I-I love you."

[hysteria-things]

PHOTO ALBUM (part two)

read part one here

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: soft!dom chris x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: when you and chris finally have alone time, you guys want to make the most of it.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, fluff, swearing, p in v, sleepy sex, a little praising

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 715

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: the second part for @whoreforchrissturniolo request😜

marylou opens the front door and smiles wide, you and chris walking into his childhood home and placing the car seats on the ottoman. “how are you doing, sweetie?” she greets with a hug, chris unbuckling the twins so braeden and lydia can stretch.

“i’m doing good.” you reply. “just tired.”

“tell me about it,” she says lowly, chris coming to your side. his mother talks to the babies, taking both of them out of the seats and holding them in her arms. she is a pro.

“thank you again, mom. i’m sorry we keep coming over like this, especially when dad’s at work.”

she scoffs, refusing to take her eyes off of her grandchildren. “don’t be silly. go get rest; i got this.”

occasionally, you and chris would come over to his parent's house in the morning to have them watch the kiddos while you guys get some extra sleep. it helps tremendously, since the amount of sleep you guys get is about four hours.

because of the eye bags, it does look like you guys got punched in the face.

once you plop onto chris’s bed, you get under the covers and snuggle instantly, eyes already half closed. “your mom is a lifesaver.” you mumble.

he giggles, facing toward you and taking your hand to peck it. a peck leads to him kissing up your arm, then neck, then to him on top of you with your arms wrapped around his neck. your lips move in sync. it’s slow, but it’s full of need.

ever since the kids were born, you guys have not had time to have sex, which is understandable. right now, you guys are exhausted, but you can’t stop now.

he pulls away, groaning when you reach your hand into his pants and pump his base. “fuck.” he whispers, feeling him getting harder under your touch.

you hum when he pushes your hand away, untying both his and your bottoms before pulling them down. he goes in and kisses you again, this time inserting his tongue into your mouth.

soft moans and pants leave your mouths, keeping in the back of your heads to not be so loud. you guys are supposed to be asleep, after all.

gasping, you grab onto chris’s arms. you haven’t felt him in a very long time, so adjusting to the size again will be difficult. he leans to your ear, nibbling on your earlobe. “you’re taking it so well, baby. just a little more, okay?”

you whine, chris taking one of your hands and interlocking his fingers with it above your head. once he thrusts softly into you, your eyes flutter closed. you throw your head back, taking in what you haven’t felt in almost a year.

“damn,” he grunts, leaving kisses on your neck and collarbone. he missed this.

“you feel so good.” you whimper, gripping tighter onto his hand that’s holding yours. he moans in response, licking his lips to focus on how well you wrap around him.

you open your eyes, his already staring back at yours. your noses graze each other, mouths open wide with heavy pants escaping them. because it’s been forever, your orgasm already started to build.

his cock moves deep inside you, a high-pitched moan louder than the others falling past your lips before you cover them with your palm. clenching hard, chris’s hips jut. “you’re squeezing so fucking tight. is someone close? hm?”

“y-yes.” you exhale. “i need to cum so bad. i-i miss cumming around your cock.”

those words cause a groan, his hips moving slightly faster to also get to his climax. “sh-shit.” he stammers. “that’s right. cum around my dick like the good girl you are. there we go.”

legs trembling, you continue to moan as your release smears down his shaft. multiple grunts and ruts of the pelvis later, the feeling of chris’ cum oozing inside of you has you thanking god that you recently got back on birth control. you love the babies, but you certainly don’t need another one at the moment.

he lays at your side, arms wrapping around your waist and nuzzling deep into your back. you were tired before, but that got you guys falling asleep in seconds, enjoying the peace while listening to each other’s heartbeats.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @sturniolotriplettoplover @stars4matt @freshsturns @loverrsposts @sturnlcvr @elliesturniolo1 @tpvmz @user283926392 @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @sturniologirl813 @leahrab @chrissturniolosslut @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @luv4kozume @ivyyyyyysposts @mirxcle1 @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @catalina-island @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @pinkfarts @slut4mattsturn @thesturniolos @vickeyzloserz @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @bellasfavbisexual @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @crazychrisl0v3r @maggieflms @strtuniolo @mutualsafe @riasturns @sturniolowhore @antpile00 @ashley9282828 @stingerayyy2 @sturnsjtop

[kiame-sama]

Random Headcannons for the TWST Monster AU that I have drawn so far.

Warnings; Ortho and Grim are platonic, yandere, multiple yanderes, yandere behavior, obsessive behavior, possessive behavior, virginity mention, Rook has a thing with the Human's feet, Idia is about 9ft (274.32cm) in my AU, antler rack point system/terminology, Lilia is 700+ years old and has seen some shit,

- Riddle has a near instinctual drive to be near the Human he has come to adore because Unicorns and Humans were among the first to befriend one another. Unicorns are driven to be around Humans as the emotional control most Humans have soothe the Unicorns. The Human does not need to be a virgin for the Unicorn to feel bonded with them, but the idea of 'purity' has been upheld by Unicorns for a long period of time. Unicorns can mostly sense a Human's virginity through their heightened magical senses, typically compelling the Unicorn to feel an emotional bond with the Human and a desire to protect that purity their Human has.

- Riddle admires the Queen of Hearts who was a Unicorn like himself. He always loved stories of the Queen's King of Hearts- a meek Human man- who convinced the Queen to show fairness and give trial to those who were accused of breaking laws. From the time he was a foal, Riddle believed that if he ever met a Human, he would make them his King of Hearts and have an unbreakable bond with them the same way the Queen of Hearts did with her King of Hearts. The second Riddle learned there was a Human in Night Raven College, he was already planning how he was going to propose to them and make them his cherished King of Hearts.

- Riddle studied the history of Humans when he was a young child, almost as closely as he studied the rules the Queen of Hearts made. He grew up with a certain prejudice towards Gnolls, Nemean Lions, and other species that ate Humans previously. Most Unicorns share this prejudice as the extinction of Humans led to the realization that a Human's emotional wellbeing actually empowered the Unicorns they lived with, meaning their extinction weakened Unicorns as a whole. Unicorns that had been in the presence of Humans before their extinction actually suffered withdrawal symptoms when the Humans were no more, leading to the belief that Humans were almost addictive in different ways to different species.

- Riddle can barely swim and when he does swim, he is swimming for his life. Some Unicorns are excellent swimmers, but Riddle is not one of those Unicorns. When Riddle was younger he actually fell into a lake and almost drowned. A rather young Trey was the one who pulled Riddle from the water, taking the drenched Unicorn back home for sweets and comfort where he met the Bakeneko Che'nya and the three became friends. Riddle is twice Trey's age, but Unicorns age twice as slowly as most other species, meaning Trey is actually more mature than Riddle despite Riddle being older.

- Leona is a Nemean Lion and Nemean Lions are obligate carnivores, meaning their diet is about 70% meat. He usually eats his meat raw as he is too lazy to cook it, but he has picked up on the scents Ruggie has brought back to Savanaclaw and has wondered about joining the Gnoll for his daily visits to Ramshackle for food. He is aware others don't trust him alone around the Human, but Ruggie is also a species that traditionally ate Humans and seems to get along just fine with the Human.

- Leona calls the Human by the nickname 'Mousey' because he sees the Human to be as fragile as a mouse when compared to his own strength and power. It really isn't worth killing a Mouse for food when you're a Lion due to how small they are and Leona views the Human as the same. It isn't worth eating the Human for the absolute backlash and poor treatment he would receive as a result when he has already received poor treatment from many other students due to the still damaging rumors around Sunset Savana.

- Leona actually told his brother Falena about the Human that first day they fell into the sorting ceremony. Falena was dubious about the authenticity of Leona's claim until Cater's picture with the Human began popping up everywhere as all of Twisted Wonderland learned there was a Human at Night Raven College. The elder brother urges Leona to be careful but to try and befriend the Human as it could only mean good things for their Kingdom and for the view of the Kingdom. He has asked several times for Leona to intentionally take a photo of the Human with the Nemean Lion to create the foundation for a more positive look for Sunset Savana.

- Leona warned everyone in Savanaclaw that first day to not touch or hassle the Human regardless of what the Human may do. He did this through direct treats and displays of power over his dorm to ensure not a thing happens to that annoyingly fragile Mousey. He also threatened that should anyone from the dorm harm the Human, he will use King's Roar on them and erase them from existence for their crimes. Despite how moody he behaves towards the Human, he actually longs to be by their side and wonders how it would feel to be pet by the Human after a long day. He will never ask, but one day he may demand affection from that Human.

- Ruggie tends to be loyal to those that feed him, only sharing his own food with those he deeply cares about. Leona was the primary source of food for the Gnoll and so, Ruggie became a lackey for the Lion simply because the Lion fed him, but it was still not as much or as often as the Gnoll actually needed. Once Ruggie began getting meals from the Human, he actually has filled out a bit more and isn't quite as skinny anymore, having a more balanced diet and hearty meals. Ruggie would even turn on Leona for the Human should they ask him to. He won't be excited about it, and he will be terrified, but he will still do it only for them.

- Gnolls do have a gene for growing winter coats, much like their Hyena counterparts, but he is not a fan of the cold despite that fact. It takes more calories to stay warm in winter- even with thick winter fur- so Ruggie has a certain dislike for the cold. His fur becomes extremely dense and makes him look much fluffier than usual, making it ideal to bury one's face in and take comfort in the thick pelt. Ruggie wonders if he can carry the Human around in winter because they are usually so warm and they may enjoy the thickness of his pelt during the cold seasons as well.

- Ruggie has fallen into the habit of waking early to camp out outside of Ramshackle so he can smell when the Human starts cooking breakfast. Alternatively, he has also started camping out near Ramshackle in the evenings for the same reason. So long as he can keep getting those wonderful meals, he will be able to die a happy Gnoll. Should the Human ever need a taste tester, he will happily volunteer his services and will always be ready to eat more of whatever it is the Human makes. Food is food and food is good.

- Ruggie loves physical affection and yearns to be in a group for both numbers and camaraderie, so anytime he is around the Human, he feels that sense of belonging. He will likely be the first to beg the Human to pet him, melting from the feel of their soft hands in his fur. His tail will wag and if the petting is sublime enough, he may even begin to cackle and whine from the petting. Once pet, he will become hooked to the gentle affection and will become rather needy for continued petting in the future. He is happy to try and pet the Human in return, but he does need to be careful of his claws and it confuses him that the Human is not as enthusiastic about being petted instead.

- Vil is a very proud Harpy and is genetically built to be proud. As a Peacock Harpy, Vil grows long train feathers that he tends to carefully. Stepping on, touching, or otherwise brushing against his feathers will make the Harpy angry with the offending party excepting very few- primarily Rook and the Human- and he will become violent towards those who dare sully his feathers. Tail feathers are saved and used by the Harpy as tokens of affection or approval, crown feathers are saved in a jar and are only going to be gifted to someone who truly means the world to Vil, flight feathers are saved, neck and body feathers are either thrown away or used as stuffing for pillows.

- Vil has made many adjustments to his dorm uniform to accommodate his tail and wings, going as far as to leave large slits in the back of his uniform that allow him to insert his wings into the openings. There are several buttons that run the length of these openings so Vil can button up his uniform around his wings instead of leaving them open and his back exposed. His pants are made with a large opening in the back that can be buttoned at the top to close his pants around his tail without impacting his feathers. He has made similar adjustments to his ceremonial robes and to his regular uniform.

- The purple in his hair and the blue and white coloration on his face are not artificially added. The skin around his eyes has that color as a natural tint, but Vil will occasionally cover it up with foundation to put on different eye-makeup. He usually doesn't cover up his eye-marks as he sees them as his natural beauty shining forth but he will occasionally reshape them with makeup or add a glitter over them to emphasize his features. The purple is a unique color even for peacock Harpies which can actually be attributed to Vil's mother- a Purple Chested Hummingbird Harpy- and his extra color makes many other male Harpies jealous as purple is a rarer color.

- Vil's temper doesn't often show through, especially because he is an actor and has learned to mute his natural reactions, but there are several signs to tell how Vil feels at any given time. When his neck feathers ruffle he is usually in a bad mood or something has irritated him. When his seven crest feathers raise up- as they are typically laying flat into his hair- he is feeling proud or posturing to tease other males. When his crest is up and his tail feathers are up, his wings will spread out and display, this is only in the extremely rare case Vil is showing off for a prospective mate. To date he has only displayed his full feathers twice, and once was on accident, the other was for his Human when he first officially met them.

- Rook has always had a certain obsession with those who are different- either more beastly than others or more tame- and his Human checks every box Rook has for the most interesting being he has met. From the Human's near useless natural weapons to the Human's surprising fragility, Rook is hooked on knowing everything he possibly can about the Human. He has a particular interest in the Human's feet as most other species in Twisted Wonderland do not have feet the way the Human does. Even Vil and beautiful Neige have bird feet and talons instead of these odd feet the Human has. He will try to keep his unusual interest concealed for the most part, but can't resist holding the Human's feet and even petting them as he paints their nails.

- Rook has an instinctual aversion to garlic and does what he can to avoid foods with garlic in them as well as mint and lavender. The scents are very strong and almost overpowering to Rook, so it bothers him deeply when there are even cloves of garlic around him. This being said, if the Human made food with garlic in it, Rook would still eat it and fight every single instinct he has to spit it out. Even if it hurts his stomach and makes him ill, he will eat the food because HIS Human made it for him and he needs them to know how much he adores them and values their skills. Vil is almost disgusted with how down bad Rook is- knowing how much the Drider despises garlic- but acquiesces to the fact that he also has a similar drive to appease and please the Human.

- Rook can spin three types of webbing that all have different uses in his everyday life. First is his sticky webbing which is used to make most webs and to ensnare prey despite him rarely using this webbing for hunting. Second is his nesting webbing which is not sticky and has the consistency closer to silk, used mainly in the heart of his webs as bedding or as a way to keep warm in cooler weather. Third is binding webbing often used to tie up prey and mates alike, stronger and sturdier like rope compared to other webbing. Vil is particularly interested in the second type of webbing as it is ideal for making fabrics that are more durable and breathable than silk. Rook demands that at least one of the outfits chosen for the Human by himself, Vil, and Divus is made from his personal silk. He secretly hopes to make Lingerie from his silk for his Human and hopes they will give him a show while they wear it.

- Rook prefers wild caught game as opposed to meats from livestock and will often hunt his own meals down in the forests around Night Raven College. He often offers these meats to Vil as well despite the fact the Harpy dislikes how gristly wild caught game tends to be. Rook hopes that one day he can catch prey for the Human to cook up, wishing to be a kind of provider for the Human he adores so much.

- Grim has an extremely acidic stomach and can digest most items, even if they are not traditionally considered food items. He can eat rocks and tree-bark but prefers the food his Human makes for him. He has no allergies that he is aware of and has a very large appetite for one so small.

- Every scar was made by a different animal and every scar was a time Grim almost lost his life to one of the other beasts of the forest. Due to his injury over his right eye, he can't see very well out of it and it occasionally causes him pain.

- Grim is considered to be an anomaly as he is more sentient than the other wild beasts of the forests but his magic is more like a wild animal. As a result, Grim cannot use a magestone due to the wild nature of his magic, but he is also more resistant to overblotting as well because his magic is fueled by the magic in the land itself.

- For as long as Grim can remember, he has lived in the forests around Night Raven College grounds. As a result, he has a certain jealousy towards the students he would see wandering around the school grounds. He never understood why they were so special and could go to the school but he couldn't.

- Ortho is 40% mechanical as a result of being attacked by a Feral Overblotted Shinigami when he was young. His injuries almost killed him and resulted in him having to live in a mechanical iron-lung to keep him alive while Idia began crafting his augmented limbs. It is because of these injuries that Ortho has become such a powerful mage as he needs to use magic to fuel the limbs and make them work. This constant use of magic has actually increased his resistance to Overblotting due to the constant magical output and presence of blot within Ortho's body, giving him a resistance to the magical waste created.

- Ortho is the baby of the Shroud family and is often given preferential treatment as a result of this. He doesn't like it. Due to his injuries he has always had a longing for independence that he can't really have given the fact Idia is the one who makes and updates his cybernetics. Ortho is smart for his age, even for a Shinigami, and as such is able to attend Night Raven College with Idia despite the typical school age for Shinigami being 25. Ortho may be 13 and seen as a young child by his family, but he is actually more magically adept than almost every other family member except for Hades.

- The device on Ortho's hip is an O2 and CO2 monitor that adjusts automatically based on how much oxygen is in his blood. He can take the mask off, but he cannot be without it for long as it does help him immensely with breathing and removing CO2 from his body. His lung is an artificial creation made by Idia and almost functions as well as a real lung, but still falls just a bit short of the real deal. Most of Ortho's prosthetic limbs are works in progress as they need to be altered and adjusted as Ortho grows, given Shinigami keep growing throughout their lives.

- Ortho's wings are modeled after Harpies more than the traditional Shinigami wings as Shinigami have specialized feathers that technically should not be able to be used for flight. Similar designs would leave Ortho flightless, so Idia made Harpy-like wings instead so Ortho can still use them to fly. He is sad that his wings are not like the wings of his family, but he understands that Shinigami feathers are quite different from typical bird feathers.

- Idia does not wear makeup. His lip color, eyeshadow and even the gem-like structures on his face are all natural formed. The gem-like structures are actually a result of acne scars because Idia often picked at his face when he was younger, leading the skin to grow back stronger and almost like gemstones. They are rock-hard and shine like gems despite being natural formations of skin and change color with his hair due to having magical qualities much like the flaming hair all Shrouds possess.

- Idia's hair changes color depending on his emotions and it usually takes a strong emotion to make the flames that are his hair change color. The typical fire-red is when Idia becomes heated or legitimately angry usually due to a videogame he is playing or someone is pushing him too much. He learns that his hair will burn a magenta-pink when he is gazing affectionately at his Human while they game, immersed in the story and general gameplay. When his hair burns this magenta color, heart shapes can be seen within the flames. His hair will burn white if he becomes too anxious, the lighter his hair becomes the more anxious he is.

- Idia is aware he is different in size compared to the other students and often skips classes because of it. He doesn't want to be looked at or perceived for too long, hence why he actually waited for Ortho to grow up a bit so he could attend Night Raven College with his younger brother as an anxiety buffer. Due to Idia's anxiety at being looked at, he often will curl up his body and tuck in his limbs while sitting to appear smaller than he is. His hope is the smaller he appears, the less likely others will be to stare at him when they see him.

- Idia's hair is flames and as flames they put out a natural light. This light is less intense than most flames, but it does mean that Idia and others of the Shroud family struggle to sleep. Shinigami don't need as much sleep as most other species and can go days without sleeping, but when they do need sleep, they need eye-cover to not be woken up by their flames. Their hair is water resistant and can continue to burn underwater as it is magical in nature and behaves differently from regular fire due to being Shinigami fire.

- Silver has a three point rack as he has three points to his antlers, so not the biggest rack and not the smallest either when compared to other Cervitaur. He does shed his antlers and even has velvet that he needs to rub off of his antlers whenever a new pair grow in. Lilia is obsessed with collecting the shed velvet and antlers as they are a way for the old Bat Fae to remember his son by. Silver is not Fae and will likely die before Lilia does as a result, so he is indulgent of allowing Lilia to collect the antlers and shed velvet. Silver often leaves home to shed his velvet or antlers because Lilia can be a bit too excited to collect the shed and will even try to take the velvet directly from Silver's antlers before he can get it off himself.

- Silver wields a short-sword and has been trained in the use of a variety of weapons by Lilia to protect Malleus. He prefers the shortsword as it has greater control than a greatsword but has better reach than a dagger. He can often be seen training with Sebek and Lilia in the use of this weapon and will train until he is proficient enough to dispatch enemies efficiently. Should Silver lose his sword, he can also use his antlers to skewer his foes and his legs to kick them as needed.

- Silver is a herd species, and Malleus' Hoard is his herd. He will feel nervous or uneasy if he is alway from his herd for too long and can often struggle to make himself comfortable without at least one member of his herd nearby. Despite this, he can still fall asleep in random places despite how alone he may be even with his preference to be around his herd. He is protective of his herd and will be violent towards those who threaten any member of his herd regardless of if that member is stronger or weaker than he is.

- Silver grew up eating Lilia's cooking and believed all cooking made food worse, not better as a result. Once he tasted his Human's cooking, he actually realized that it was just a problem with Lilia's cooking specifically. He now hopes he gets to taste all kinds of meals and hopes they are all made by the Human he so deeply cares for. He still cringes any time Lilia wants to cook and hopes that perhaps his Human can teach his Father how to actually cook things properly.

- Lilia has had several adopted children over the years, Silver being his most recent adoptee. Lilia has raised only one Human, but he loved his little Human baby and it broke his heart to see that same infant become elderly and pass due to age. He still thinks Humans are precious and hopes that he can cajole this new Human into giving him more babies to raise. If Lilia had his way, he would be raising a herd of half-Human infants, one Dragon halfling, one Cervitaur halfling, one Raiju halfling, and one or more Vampire Bat halflings. He genuinely wants an infant combination from every Hoard member including himself.

- Lilia is sensitive to sound and will often be the first to alert to abnormal sounds due to this sensitive hearing. This also means that whenever Malleus conjures thunder, Lilia will magically deafen himself or dampen his hearing so the thunder does not cause him pain. Lilia takes comfort in hearing the heartbeats of Malleus' Hoard around him while he sleeps and can usually tell whenever a Hoard member is having a nightmare due to their heartbeat. He will often try to groom the one having a nightmare and soothe them back into restful sleep.

- Lilia is second in command of the Hoard and technically has the final say even over Malleus as he is the eldest of the Hoard and has more experience than Malleus by at least 500 years. Usually Lilia encourages Malleus to be the final say in decisions but will put his foot down should it seem like the Dragon is making a poor choice or is acting too closely to his emotions. He is often the one who makes the rational suggestions in a heated moment and has greater control of his emotions due to his age.

- Lilia learned to cook through observation of the Humans he often took shelter with in times of war in Briar Valley. Because he was never officially trained to cook, he is abysmally bad at it but still tries so he can revisit those lovely memories of sitting around a table with a Human family, breaking bread and making friends over a shared meal. Lilia mourned the extinction of Humans more than most and even more than most Fae as he spent so long among the fragile species, protecting them and learning to love the beautiful and kind creatures that were so very different from himself.

[saintzweig]

older next door neighbor!reader x stanford!art

– teehee :3 proofread? do you even know me (of course it's not)

– edit: i actually dont know how to feel abt this so please let me know what u think!!

art donaldson has been harboring a big fat crush on the girl next door for years now. you're two years older than him, already well into college by the time he got accepted into stanford. 4.0 GPA, a great volleyball player and you volunteer at animal shelters, his grandmother loves you– heck, every mother in town loves you. you used to come over atleast once a week, having dinner with him and his grandma. when you started tutoring to earn money, he had you over three times a week to help him even though his grades are doing fine. he reckons he can do better but really he just wants to have you to himself, the two of you locked in his room for hours. of course that changed when you left for college, choosing a university miles away and leaving him alone for the rest of his highschool years.

you come home every break which means that art does too, hoping to catch you and maybe show off a little. after all, he's a man now– he's on the stanford tennis team, he's won multiple tournaments and he's no longer the little nerd you've known since you were kids.

you come over one afternoon, bringing over some fresh brownies that you've made for art and his grandma. he opens the door shirtless, telling you he was just about to jump in the pool but really, he saw you walking over through the window and took his shirt off. he asks you if you want to maybe join, the weather's nice and all and much to his surprise, you agree, saying you have nothing going on anyways. you excuse yourself for a while, wanting to change into something more suitable and he prays it's the red bikini he's seen you wear before.

and it is. you come in and he offers you a cold beer. "beer huh? i didn't know you drink now, donaldson." you say with a slight grin, taking the bottle from him. he watches the way your hands wrapped around the bottle, images of your black manicured nails wrapped around his co–

he makes a comment about having done stuff in stanford, stopping himself from telling you that he's been drinking since he was a teenager, at the academy. with patrick. he doesn't miss the way your eyes lingered on his lips as took a swig of the beer, making him smirk subtly. he leads you to the backyard and you help yourself to a floatie while he sits on the edge of the pool. you paddle yourself softly to the water, leaning back and savoring the sunlight on your skin. he doesn't even try to hide the way he's staring at your chest, not that you can see anyways because your eyes are closed. "my grandma's having a poker game at one of her friend's so it's just us" he tells you.

you begin to ask him questions about his first year in college– how was tennis, how were the parties, any girls?

tennis was great, he says his coaches are really helping him improve and prepare to go pro. parties were crazy, it was loud and sweaty but he doesn't let himself get carried away, being an athlete and all. he's gotten on a few dates and he tells you he's been asked out alot, exaggerating a little bit to show off. you say you weren't surprised and he asks what you mean.

"i mean look at you, you're not bad looking. you're tall, blonde, athletic– girls dig that. you've gotten bigger too"

he smirks, "bigger?" and you only roll your eyes, leaning your head to look up the sky. he jumps in, walking over to you, crossing his arms over the floatie, making you shift slightly. his elbow touching your thigh. "what about you? any guys?" you hum, sipping on your beer. "there was one, but I don't know. didn't really work out" he asks why and you tell him you just don't see yourself dating someone on campus, they're all assholes who don't take anything seriously.

"have you ever dated anyone younger?" to which you raise a brow, only for him to tilt his head with a stupid grin on his face. you shake your head, "i heard younger guys can treat you very well." he says, and you knew exactly what he meant.

that's how you ended up sitting on the edge of the floatie, legs apart with art standing in between. you're leaning back on your arms while his hands are on your thighs, pulling you closer as he place kisses on your skin. your bikini is beginning to get wet, not just from the pool water. he looks up at you, water dripping down from his hair down to his face. "you don't know how long i've been waiting for this."

you almost whined at his expression, eyes wide as he looked up and lips plump, aching to taste you. you lift your hair to push back his curls and he leans into your touch, closing his eyes. "wanna show me how well you can treat me?" he thinks he just died and came back to life. in a second, your bottoms are untied and floating somewhere in the pool. fully exposed to him now, your cunt soft glistening in the sunlight. he lets out a soft cuss as he takes in the sight. "you sure about this?" you only nod, smiling down at him.

he kisses your sensitive clit, keeping his eyes on you as you throw your head back. he watches as your adams apple bob when you let out a moan. he begins to circle his tongue around your clit, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body. butterflies floating in your stomach as he made his way down, sticking his tongue inside your hole, tasting every bit of you. he moans as he feels your slick cover his tongue, "you taste so sweet, angel." you tug on his hair and he takes it as a request to go deeper and he does. he fucks you with his tongue, lifting his hand to press the rough pad of his thumb on your clit. his eyes are closed, savoring every moment. he pulls away slowly, teasing his finger into your dripping hole before slipping it in, and you tense up. immediately enclosing him with your warm gummy walls, art starts to feel pain inside his swimming trunks. he moves his hips slightly, hoping the water will create a friction to relieve the ache.

he attaches himself to your clit once more, sucking on it this time while he curls his fingers inside you at the same time. your stomach tightens as you feel your climax approaching, making you tug on his hair harder. "f–fuck, how are you so good at this" you gasp, bucking your hips. he chuckles, you feel the vibration against your core. "art– shit, i'm so close, baby" he groans at the pet name, his other hand gripping your thigh harder.

"you like that, huh?" your voice breathless, "you like it when i call you baby?" he nods feverishly, lapping up your juices, his own hips bucking softly underwater. you wrap your legs around his back, "i'm gonna cum, artie– fuck, baby just like that. doing so good f'me" within seconds, you're shaking violently into his mouth. feeling warm fluid ooze out of you, which he immediately takes into his mouth. you struggle to hold yourself up, leaning back on your arms as you catch your breath.

if only you could see the string of white floating out of his trunks under the water.

[filmbyjy]

ONE NOTE

SYNOPSIS > When you turned 18, you heard your best friend’s favourite song. Turns out, it was just one of the various signs to finding your soulmate. However, you couldn’t bring this up to jake. Not when he was in a happy relationship with your other best friend! Would you choose heartbreak or sacrifice your happiness for the sake of keeping the friendship?

THIRTY-ONE – family drama

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

WC: 3.1K words

a/n: this is a word vomit😍 hence why I took longer to write it. had multiple mental breakdowns whilst doing this and my college projects🥰 anyways I said it would be 2K worth of words but it’s more💀

receiving those messages from aria’s mom made you realise that humanity was definitely screwed ever since humans decided that they wanted to be the ‘king of the jungle’. how was 50 year old woman threatening a 22 year old man? you knew you had to tell jake. this was for your safety and the others safety too but, you couldn’t lie, the curiosity of finding out as to why aria was acting up and also why she didn’t have a soulmate was itching all over you.

of course, her behaviour could’ve easily stemmed from her childhood. this is how usually murderers and serial killers even start their dark path. trauma. you sighed and turned to look around your college dorm. small but cozy, perfect to fit 3-4 girls. so when aria got admitted and possibly also kicked from the school, you’d assume you were staying with just yvette and mae.

the door opens and shuts, there were shuffling noises at the front door. you didn’t bother to look, it was probably the girls or jake. marsh decides to inspect the sound at the front door. you heard her little mewls and a deep voice that followed after. once you had looked up, you noticed it was jake. he held up marsh on his shoulder, carrying her.

“hey, what’s up? why were you staring at the white cement wall?” jake says. you didn’t say anything, you were practically looking at him from head to toe. his jet black hair that was recently grown out so that it was longer. the denim jacket that he always wore and was so famously known for around the campus. his lips, full and plump as it can ever be. “okay, now you’re staring at me. there is definitely something wrong.”

“aria’s mom texted me.” you had admitted. jake frowns. “and before you say anything, she just texted me to ask you to go to some location. i’m not allowed to go.”

“well, that’s good she didn’t ask you to follow. i wouldn’t have allowed you to come with anyways. i don’t want to get you hurt.”

you could see the sadness in jake’s eyes, it was heartbreaking. you knew he was just confused more than ever. he didn’t know why everything was so complicated with aria when in fact it should be over. why was her mother involved with this somehow?

“how about i get sunghoon to hide somewhere so that you wont be alone?” you had asked. jake shook his head. he lets marsh down from his arms and she scurries off to the other rooms.

“i don’t want to harm any of you. besides, sunghoon has already been through it.” jake explains. you had huffed.

“and? stop pretending to be strong and nonchalant. 2 guys is better than one.” you could hear jake sighing.

“i’ve hurt you guys and especially you for so long. i don’t want to be a burden and ask you guys to-”

you were quick to cut jake off quickly, “a burden? jake, just cause you blew us off for years and became a jerk because of aria doesn’t mean you were a burden. we still cared about you. we didn’t think you were a nuisance. the only reason why we weren’t as close as back then was because of aria.”

“i know.”

“then if you knew, you’d let us help you.”

“you guys have helped me multiple times and i…i’ve just ruined our friendship for 6 whole years.” it was clear jake was about to breakdown. his eyes were starting to get glossy, the waver in his voice. the way he chokes on his own words. you did what you could only think of and went over to give him a hug.

jake accepts it. his arms snuggling right above your waist. his head parked right at the crook of your neck, you start to feel small droplets of tears fall onto your skin. jake sobs in your arms. in all your years of knowing him (since you were kids), jake was never the type to cry. this was the first time you were seeing him cry and you could feel the intensity of those feelings. was it the soulmate bond? you couldn’t bare to let him go, you had to let him cry on your shoulder.

when mae and yvette walked through the front door after 10 minutes of jake sobbing, you had gestured for them to pretend they didn’t see anything. they quickly got the note and pretended that they didn’t see anything. they both went to their respective rooms. you had rubbed jake’s back and he only seemed to tighten the hug like you were going to disappear from his grip.

“hey, i won’t leave you. i’m here.” you whispered in his ears softly, comforting him as best as possible.

once he had calmed down, he couldn’t look back up at you. he was embarrassed to have cried. you placed a finger under his chin. his eyes were slightly swollen, wet tears down his cheek. yet, he still looked effortlessly good looking. the universe really has their faves. “don’t be afraid to cry in front of me and be vulnerable. i’ve cried in front of you a bunch so you don’t have to feel embarrassed to do the same.”

he nods, looking in your eyes. there was something in the air. the tension was different. you feel jake moving closer slightly. his head tilting a little as his focus shifts from your eyes to your lips. you held in a breath watching him do so. however, the kiss never happens because mae yelled out loud when jake was just about to land his lips right on yours.

her hands were covering her eyes. “fuck! i’m so sorry!!” she apologises quickly before turning and running towards yvette’s room.

both you and jake turned to look at each other and laughed. that was one way to break the tension. moving onto later at night, you, yvette, mae and jake planned a big plan for what was going to go down tomorrow. it was a perfect plan that would be executed well.

jake’s guide to not getting murdered/kidnapped

1. make sure sunghoon is around and sneaking whilst hearing everything so that he could report to us. back up: jay

2. if aria’s mom ties jake up, keep something sharp in pocket that doesn’t look suspicious. you went to join boy’s scout at like 10, you should remember how to untie a rope dumbass

3. have the upper hand, never let your guard down

4. that’s about it. don’t get killed

as the sun rises, so do you. you had barely gotten any sleep. after creating the plan, you were up all night coming up clothing/dress ideas for your course. it was hard. you could barely think. especially since you kept thinking about that almost kiss. god, that really kept you up at night.

jake had woken up and his groans as he wakes up. the sun glaring right into his eyes. he sits right up and tugs on the curtain. the darkness consumes his room and he lays right back in bed. however, just as jake was on the brink of falling asleep again, the smell of eggs slips under his door. he shots up and practically lets the door fly open. he goes to the kitchen to inspect the smell and he was definitely greeted with the sexiest thing in the morning. you were in a messy bun, oversized shirt and pyjama shorts. this should be the most domestic thing ever but he felt his heart racing.

he goes closer. you were busy with the eggs that you didn’t notice jake. there were arms wrapping around your waist and then a deep sleepy voice whispers in your ears. “morning.” it sends shivers down your spine.

“m-morning. why are you up so early?”

“could smell the eggs from my room so i got up and went here.”

“it’s just eggs.” you explained.

“and pancakes. something you always made back then when i stayed over at your home for a sleepover.” jake says. it was true, he used to always sleepover as his parents were quite busy with their business. your parents always held out with open arms for jake whenever he was home alone. hence, most of the time he stayed over.

“we were 12 when i made for eggs and pancakes. it didn’t even taste that great. i think i burnt the pancakes a little.”

“well, i thought you did great at 12 years old.” you deadpanned at jake’s words.

“you always told me it was bad.”

“when have i?”

“are you trying to gaslight me?” jake leans closer. your breath hitches.

“no. i’m not trying to gaslight you. i just want to say my true feelings at 12 years old. you were great at making eggs and pancakes back then even if they were crispy.” he adds. you picked up the spatula and showed it to him, ready to hit him with it. he laughs and apologises.

there was a buzz on jake’s phone while you were eating breakfast and chatting but jake didn’t seem to care. he didn’t even acknowledge it so once he went to wash the dishes, you had peaked into his phone.

messages from an unknown number. definitely aria’s mom.

“you don’t have to care about that. i’ll be safe. don’t worry.” jake says.

picture this, you were looking right up at jake as he was standing right behind you. at this rate, you might as well recreate that one famous spiderman kiss. which is exactly why jake leaned in and placed his lips right on yours. you could feel your lungs start to feel lighter. like you were healing from your hanahaki. jake felt like this was right, kissing you felt right. it had fit into the puzzle. your hands reached up to cup jake’s face but he pulls back slightly. there was a slight pout on your lips that you had unconsciously did.

“don’t pout. i want to kiss you more but your neck is going to hurt if i continue kissing you like that.”

“you don’t find this romantic?”

“it is romantic but i want to properly kiss you.” jake says. you could feel your face heat up.

jake’s phone starts ringing. “you should pick it up.” you say. jake nods. he lightly places a peck on your forehead before picking it up.

you had to sit there processing what happened.

did you just kiss sim jaeyun?

“i saw that little stunt, young lady.” yvette’s voice brings you out of your trance. you had jolted a little and sighed in relief when you realised who it was.

“what stunt?” yvette deadpans at your words.

“don’t lie to me. you and jake did a spiderman kiss. gurl, are you that desperate for his dick. be honest.” she folds her arms. your eyes widened. you could feel your face turn warmer.

“no. why would i-”

“if girls had boners, you’d be having one right now.” yvette casually says. you were stunned.

“yvette, why do you have to say it so vulgarly.” mae says as she appears from her bedroom. she yawns. “if jake and (name) wanna have sex, then they could after all. they are soulmates.”

“i don’t want to fuc-”

“she’s not allowed to. jake still needs to prove that he is good enough for her. after all, 6 years of royally fucking up their super close friendship. almost killing her by plain out rejecting her. rude. i can list more of what happened through out these 30 episodes.” yvette explains. mae sighs, she pats your shoulder.

“you’re on your own (name).”

you had groaned. “it was just one kiss. we aren’t doing anything more than that. i am still waiting for jake to make it up to me.”

“but you’re slowly giving in. i get it, he’s your soulmate. it’s hard to say no and wait but like think about yourself. will you?”

“i know, i know. i’m thinking about myself and i will continue to do so. this was my one moment of weakness, okay? 13 year old me would be so happy.” you had huffed. yvette pinches your cheeks.

“look at you. you’re a simp. this is exactly why jake was your chosen soulmate. you two are simps that it’s gross.”

you rolled your eyes. it gets silent in the house. no chattering from jake in the other room. weird. you had stood up and went over to check up on him but he wasn’t there. oh crap. you had picked up your phone and dialed for sunghoon.

“hello?” sunghoon says.

“jake left to see aria’s mom.”

“already? goddamn it. let me leave now and maybe i can hide somewhere there.”

“alright, be safe.”

“i will.”

the call quickly ends and you had ran to the bathroom to bathe and get ready for the possible scariest time of your life. once you were done, you had ran to put on your shoes. yvette holds you back.

“hey, calm down.”

“i can’t. what if aria’s mom hurts jake?”

“she won’t after all. aria’s dad is the principal of a prestigious school. she can’t ruin his career.”

“we don’t know how crazy she can be.”

“sunghoon will be there. mae also called jay to be the backup. they’ll be there and we can be assured that jake will be safe.” yvette says. you didn’t know what to say or do because you were worried.

“don’t worry. let’s just trust jake. he’ll handle it.” mae places a hand on your shoulder.

“i hope so.” were the only the things you could say.

as for jake, he was busy walking towards a neighbourhood. the address led him to a gated community just like aria’s home however, he would’ve recognised aria’s home easily. he always found it weird that aria has never brought him to her house even in the 6 years they were dating.

‘what a weirdo’, jake thought. he didn’t want to associate himself to aria anymore though. there was no point, after all. he made it right onto the property. in a way, it looked like a witches’ castle. that is until an older man opens the door, he looked sophisticated. a little confused as to who jake was.

“who are you?” he asks. “my apologies, sounds a little rude to say so.”

at least whoever this guy was, he was nice.

“oh, umm. my name is jake. i was im aria’s boyfriend.” jake explains. the man’s eyes widened.

“oh, i’ve heard about you from aria. i am her dad.”

‘so much for the genes not coming from him. aria is not like him at all’, jake thought. he smiles slightly. “oh umm, mrs.im asked me to come over. she wanted to talk about something.”

as soon as jake mentions about aria’s mom, mr.im starts frowning. “she’s in the room. let me go get her. i’m assuming she wants to talk to you about our family.” mr.im pushes the door wider to let jake in. he enters the space. mr.im goes to get mrs.im. after a couple of minutes, aria’s mom appears. she walks down the stairs in her…fur coat(?)

‘crazy woman.’ jake thought as he eyes her down.

she smirks. “ah, jake. welcome to my home. the place where everything is perfect.” she dramatically says.

‘uh huh sure. everything is totally perfect. aria is equally as insane as you are, old woman. acting like a disney villain.’

mr.im rolls his eyes. “why don’t you sit down. the maids will prepare for you to drink something.” he tells jake. jake goes to settle down on the couch. mrs.im eyes mr.im, it seems like their marriage was not all that perfect.

mrs.im settles down on the seat. she sits down like a fine royal woman. however, she clearly isn’t. mr.im rolls his eyes once again.

“since you’re here now, jake. i must ask, why did you have to send our daughter to the mental institution? when she’s clearly fine.” she folds her arm.

“she’s not fine. i can assure you, the people at the mental institution will sort out her feelings and thoughts.” jake explains. mrs.im sighs.

“our daughter was fine before she met you. maybe you two should’ve broken up 6 years ago. you put us in so much trouble.”

“i know i should’ve after all, i have my own reasons as to why i should’ve left.” jake says.

“like what? falling in love with your soulmate? that’s utter nonsense. me and mr.im weren’t soulmates. we simply loved each other so much that we broke our soulmate bonds with our assigned soulmates.”

jake’s jaw drops. mr.im pinches the bridge of his nose.

“how many times do i have to tell you, i never wanted to marry in the first place. we both killed our soulmates by getting married! our daughter was also cursed to not have a soulmate because of your wrongdoings!” mr.im yells. mrs.im rolls her eyes.

“i didn’t kill my soulmate. you did. you wanted this as much as i did.” she fires back. jake watches them go back and forth. it starts to filter out as he processes what exactly was the reason why aria didn’t have a soulmate.

“then what? you go to her grave every single time during her death anniversary. for what? guilt?” mrs.im says.

“i’m doing it out of love. something that a heartless person like you doesn’t have.” mr.im answers.

these were all just family drama but certainly good information. jake didn’t want to intrude further. he had to leave. this was wrong. hence, he slowly stood up and stepped back, leaving the house quietly.

this explains why aria didn’t know what a soulmate was. she doesn’t have a tied soulmate to her. all because of the curse that her mom had started. now all the generations after aria wouldn’t be able to have a soulmate. her kids wouldn’t grow up with a soulmate tied to them. this was a big news. a news he had to break to you and everyone else.

once he leaves the place, sunghoon pops out the shrubs.

“oh fuck.” jake jumps back. sunghoon snickers and pats his shoulder.

“heard something huge?” he asks. jake sighs.

“very huge family drama. i’ll tell you and the others when we get back.” the shrubs moved again. jay falls out of it. he groans.

“i am never playing spy again.”

“don’t worry, we aren’t ever going to do it again. jake has the tea. let’s go back.” sunghoon smacks jay’s shoulder. jay winces.

as they walked out from the gated community, jake’s arms went around both jay’s and sunghoon’s shoulder. it seems like their friendship never had a problem.

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VOTE HERE for my next smau!

[aakeysmash]

Roommate or boss?

part 2, part 3, part 4

Pairing: f!reader x Katsuki Bakugou.

Warnings: none, really. AND THEY WERE POSSIBLE ROOMMATES, MAYBE?

Context: 3k words. Reader is a barista and she only meets Bakugo at the end of this </3. He’s her boss but she doesn’t know. I don’t delve into this tho, just so you know. They’re both 22.

A/N: never thought I’d write a slow burn but I HATE not giving context. This is just me yapping with zero grammar context whatsoever. The reader is super oc in this one, but all the girl names I thought about were UGLY. Let me know what you think about it!

“No.”

“Come onnnn it’s gonna be just this one time” pleads your best friend from the other end of the phone.

“Ochaco, you know I hate when you pull this shit” you reply, while putting your jacket on.

“I knowww, but listen, me and the cute guy have had NO time for ourselves lately and-“

“And you’re leaving me doing this assignment with who knows who? We’re always partners for physics, you know I can’t do it all alone and you can’t phrase your deductions to save your life. We complete each other. You’re my soulmate. Why are you leaving me for a guy?” you whine, while closing the door of your apartment and walking towards your car.

“It’s gonna be just this one time, I promise! It’s not like we’re gonna fail. I think. I hope…” she mumbles.

You sigh. “If we do fail, you’re getting your ass beaten, I am so for real” you concede after thinking about it. You start your car and put your phone on speaker.

“BABEEE I love youuuu! You know you’re the only one for me! I promise to finally tell you all the details on Saturday” she squeals.

You wince. “Nah, I can’t this Saturday. I have to work, manager is on vacay. Maybe Sunday?” you said, knowing she will start rambling.

“Y/N just leave that place, they don’t even value you as a person, let alone as a worker. Plus, your manager is a bitch” Ochaco says sternly. “I still haven’t got over the fact she makes you work double shifts just because she wants to be in Bali with her new stupid tomboy. Who, by the way, cheats on her. You said so yourself, and I heard him and your colleague going at it that one time I came to visit you last week -not Momo, bless her heart, how is she by the way?- oh and he steals her money. And-“

“I need the money, and I do love to make coffees for the nice old ladies that tip me” you interrupt your more-than-protective best friend, knowing that she could go on complaining for hours if you didn’t stop her. “Also, I just got to the cafe and I’m already running late. I’ll text you when I get off, okay? Love you”.

“Yeah yeah. Don’t overwork yourself too much, love you” and you hang up.

You and Ochaco have been friends since you were babies. Your parents were neighbours back in your hometown, and your moms coincidentally got pregnant in a span of 2 months apart from each other. You have been attached to the hip all of your school years, and fortunately you have been accepted at the same campus at university. You moved to different apartments because you wanted to be independent, but you are still living pretty near each other. You are enrolled in literature, while Ochaco has a passion for astronomy; you had chosen physics as a bonus class for some extra credits since Ochaco said it would be easy and you trusted her, but she didn’t take into consideration that you failed math throughout all of high school, and she had to save your ass multiple times in the past. You’ll never forget her face when she got an 86% on one of the graded tests she did for you: she was so disappointed she made you ask the professor to redo the test, which you barely knew the basics of. She got 100%, and the professor congratulated you (her) for being such an overachiever. You never felt more ashamed of yourself and proud of your best friend at the same time. On the other hand, she made you do her English essays on a monthly basis, so she really wasn’t in the place to complain about doing all the dirty work for you.

You had partnered up with her since she was a genius, but she met this “cute guy” a month ago and was head over heels for him. She still hasn’t said his name to you, all you know is that he is a part of the physics course and he apparently just stole your assignment partner.

You sigh inwardly. Sometimes you wished love could come to you as easily as it comes to Ochaco. She is a lover girl at heart, nicer than anybody could ever hope to be, but she sure could bite if she had to. She has been there for some of the worst moments of your life, and you have done the same for her. You really didn’t know what you would do without her. Maybe you should get her an apology pastry from the cafe’s leftovers to make up for the last two missed Saturdays (“they’re for the girls!” she said, and you meticulously met up every week up until you had gotten a job).

You’re a bit distracted by thinking about her when you get into the place you work at. It’s a cute cafe, a little bit too orange for your taste, but it’s cozy enough to make work pleasurable. Plus, it’s 5 minutes from your apartment (15 if you walk, but you are lazy). They pay on time, the coffee is good and the clientele isn’t too bad. If it wasn’t for-

“You’re 32 seconds late. You’re getting a formal complaint this time” says your manager, waiting for you with her arms crossed.

“Put that on the note that says I worked 8 extra hours a week for the last 5 months. Hello to you too, weren’t you supposed to be in the Philippines or whatever by now?” you say sickening sweet, with the fakest smile you can muster, while you pass next to her to get to the room behind the register.

“Shut your smart mouth up before I get you fired!” she almost screams. Some of the people at the table near her look at her like she’s crazy before going back to their cappuccino.

“My oh my miss Utsushimi, it’s not nice to use that tone before the rush hour” you reply, giving an apologetic look at your regulars next to her.

“Mpfh, whatever. Close up this place when you’re done, the boss will probably be in to ask you for the keys at the end of your shift. I’ll be MIA for the next two weeks, bye” she says to you. Then she turns around and smiles sweetly at the clients who previously looked at her with distaste and lies “pregnancy hormones I hope, me and my man are trying for a baby, I’m sorry for scaring you!”. You know damn well she had an IUD appointment last week, because she made you work instead of working herself. Fake bitch.

Without saying anything else, she leaves the place.

“I hate her ass so much”, says someone next to you.

You snicker. “Who doesn’t, Momo?” you face her with a genuine smile.

“Never leave me alone with her ever again, you know I can’t survive this place without you, work wifey” she kisses your cheek fast, before going back to making coffee for a client at the register.

“Ochaco will be hearing about this and she’ll slap you” you laugh heartily.

“I love her too, she’s my work wifey’s wifey, so she’s basically my wifey” she winks at you.

After a few more laughs here and there, you both go back to work like usual.

A couple of hours pass and it’s closing time. Momo waves you goodbye, clocking out. “I’m so tired I could sleep on the floor right now” she whines.

“Yeah, how about no. Let’s go, babe. We don’t want to drag Y/N’s time” says her boyfriend, Shoto, who shoots you a nod of acknowledgement before placing a hand on her lower back and escorting her out of the cafe. “I remember suffering at closing times, let’s leave her be and go home” he nudges your colleague, smiling down at her. He has been inside the cafe a lot in the years you’ve worked here, sometimes picking Momo up. Momo says he was one of the best bartenders the cafe ever had, but he found a job that payed him more and he decided to leave. You couldn’t blame him.

“See you soon, you two lovebirds!” you reply, waving a hand of your own.

Now all alone since even the waiters have gone home, you clean up the counter before packing up the pastry for Ochaco.

“Damn, I have to wait for the boss to give him the keys” you remember, rubbing your face.

You wait 45 minutes before a redhead makes his way into the cafe. He seems busy on the phone with someone.

“I’m here, let me just get- fuck no I don’t wanna talk to Camie about it, Baku- no, wait- fire? Are you going to take her place and finally come down here like the boss you are? Yes, I know- what? And where would we- what do I have to do with all of this? No, I’m going home- fuck, he hung up” the man sighs, before turning his body towards you.

“Sorry to have kept you waiting, not really manly from me” he smiles, looking sorry.

“Oh don’t worry about it!” your smile was really stretched, and you think he notices, because he says “sorry” again. “The manager said to give you the keys. So you’re the boss?” you say politely, stretching your hand with the keys towards him.

You’ve seen him multiple times, he’s a regular. He always gets the same order (one black coffee and one hot chocolate with extra cinnamon), and he always tips you and Momo well. Today he seems distressed.

“I wouldn’t wish to be the boss, to be fair. You could say I’m his right hand. Where’s Camie? Boss needs to talk to her in private before next week comes” he sighs.

“She said she’ll be gone for two weeks” you reply, confused.

“And who said she could do that?” Kirishima, you think that’s his name since you’ve written it on his order just yesterday, looks at you in disbelief. You shrug. “I don’t ask. The less I know about her, the better I feel about working here”. You start to pack your things up, before going towards the door with the man following behind you closely.

“This is nuts. I hate doing job interviews” he mumbles fast, turning the key in the lock. You raise an eyebrow, what is he even talking about?

“Do you live near? If not, I could give you a ride. I’d hate losing the only barista who makes boss man’s drink good enough to not make him pissy” he says, while pointing to his car.

You laugh. “It’s just a hot chocolate. Tell him he should try it with a few drops of hot sauce in it. Sounds disgusting but it’s actually pretty good. Also don’t worry, I live just down the street”. He nods and you wave each other goodbye.

“It does sound horrible. Thanks again for waiting, see you tomorrow for the same exact order I always make” he grins, then gets in his car and drives away, not after seeing you get in your car as well.

Once at home you call Ochaco, who’s “been worried sick, you never get home this late”.

“Y/N you seriously need a roommate. Did you even eat?” she reprimands.

You sigh. “I have to meet someone tomorrow. But you know, girls tend to look at you weirdly when you say you need them to know how to cook. They feel like you’re looking for a maid. Like, I can’t eat sandwiches every day like I did with the last roommate I had” you explain while opening your fridge. Sausages and smashed potatoes from yesterday will do the job for today.

“The psycho who thought vegetables made her look weak? Freak” you hear your best friend snicker. “At what time are they coming over?”

You groan and say “8 am. It’s a guy this time. Who wakes up before 8 am at uni? He’s already lost 2 points for this” while gulping down your food.

Ochaco’s snicker is now a full laugh. “People who have their lives together, maybe? But pay attention, males scare me” she replies quieting down.

“Yeah yeah. I’m gonna sleep now, text me the deets for Sunday, okay?” you clean your plate and go to the bathroom to wash your teeth.

“Will doooo. Good night, babe” she smooches on the mic before hanging up.

After making sure you locked your apartment door, you go to your bed, where you manage to fall asleep in thirty seconds.

The next morning you’re brutally awakened by the sound of your doorbell. You look at your phone screen: 7:42 am.

“Who the fuck is it now?” you grumble, before going down the stairs and looking through your peephole.

“Shitty hair I swear if this takes me more than 10 minutes… she hasn’t even opened the door. Yeah, she said 8 am, who cares if I’m early? I AM NOT the only one awake on a Saturday morning. Y’all are just lazy fucks” a blonde rudely says into his phone. You can hear him talking loudly from behind the door. You widen your eyes, before screaming “coming! Give me 5 minutes!” and rushing towards your bathroom to make yourself presentable. “Fuck, I forgot about the roommate appointment” you whine, while putting on a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. At least they are clean.

You open the door to find a broad man staring at you menacingly. He’s kinda tall, kinda (really) fit, kinda underdressed for the winter. Kinda hot, too.

“Hi, how can I help you?” you offer him the nicest smile your still sleepy mind can muster.

He looks you up and down, before focusing on your face and levelling you with an indifferent look.

“You must be Y/N. I’m Katsuki Bakugo, we had to meet at 8 am for the spare room offer. I've been here for 15 minutes” he gruffly declares.

You add “rude” to your list of “kinda”. You don’t like his tone. -1 point.

“Yeah, and it’s 7:48” you bite back, your smile faltering while shaking his outstretched hand. He’s definitely going to the gym with the callouses he has.

“Come in, I’ll let you see what you’re getting yourself into”, you say, opening your door more.

You live in a nice apartment, you think. There’s a nice kitchen with a nice island that also serves as a table in front of it, a blueish couch in front of the tv, and a couple of steps that bring you to a corridor with three doors: your room, the spare one and the bathroom.

You describe everything while he stays in absolute silence next to you. It makes you feel uneasy. -1 point.

You just finished showing him the bathroom and are ready to tell him you don’t think he’s a good suitor when he finally speaks up.

“And how much do you pay for this shit?” he asks. Nice voice, you think. Gravelly and rough enough to not sound annoyingly forced. +1 point.

“500 a month” you reply, while returning to the kitchen.

“Your shower needs some work done, it leaks. Also, mold is starting to show on the bathroom ceiling, might wanna check on that. Your oven looks unusable in the condition it’s in. Small tv. At least you’re clean from what I've seen” he begins to say.

You frown and turn to look at him. Did this bitch talk for the first time in 15 minutes only to complain?

“Do you even know how to cook with said oven?” you say, ignoring everything else he just said, and giving him a nasty look.

He tsks. “Yes. Is this your way of asking me to cook you fucking breakfast? I don’t eat with lazy people who get out of bed at 11 am” he makes sure to say.

You scoff. Men really do find the audacity to say stuff like this nowadays? It seems like you've been out of the loop for too much.

“You showed up early. It’s a sign of disrespect, you know? Also no, I know how to fix myself something. I just don’t want you to burn my kitchen down to a crisp and smell takeout whenever I get home” you say in the rudest way you find possible.

He smirks before saying “might wanna check on that fucking attitude of yours too before I poison your food”, tapping your shoulder to get you out of the way and take out some pans. You showed him where to find them earlier on.

“What the fuck are you doing?” you say in disbelief. “This is still my kitchen. Get out”.

He rolls his eyes. “I’m making you fucking breakfast to say sorry for interrupting your princess sleep. Just make coffee while I come up with something. If you know how to make it, that is” he doesn’t even look at you while getting eggs, milk and bread out of the fridge.

You’re baffled. He’s making himself at home when you didn’t even say he was accepted.

“Wait, you’re still not-“

“I'll give you the money at the start of every month. I’ll paint the walls of the room, I hate that fucking green, but painters are scammers so I’m doing it myself. I’m clean, I’ll just need a spare key in a matter of days to take my shit here. I’ll keep myself in my room if you keep yourself in yours. Any further requests?” he interrupts you, assembling his french toasts on the pan.

You’re even more stunned. But you’ve always been quick with your thoughts, so you come up with something.

“I’ll say yes if those french toasts are good. If they’re not, your ass is out” you say, still not looking at him, while making coffee.

“Might say yes if you know how to make a hot chocolate from scratch instead of the poor coffee that machine will make” he watches you from the corner of his eye. You scoff, you’re a barista nonetheless: who does he think he’s talking to? Meanwhile, he could swear he knew you from somewhere.

“Deal”.

“Deal”.

Neither to say, the french toasts were “not that bad” and your hot chocolate was “barely fucking acceptable”.

[justagirlwholikesadam]

Realm's Delight

Summary: You were the twin of the dark haired child Cersei had with Robert. While fever took your twin, you survived. You are known throughout the seven kingdom as the realm's delight. The years has passed and your younger brother Joffrey wants something you have. Sandor Clegane x Baratheon! Reader

A/n: Don't hate me. Enjoy -L

Warning: Death, murder, Joffrey is Joffrey, the angst is real af, suicide

Word Count: 12.8k

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Chapter 3

Losing Sandor felt like you were drowning in an abyss of loneliness, you felt like you were being stabbed in the chest multiple times with each breath you took. The servants grew worried when you locked yourself in your chambers. They knocked and asked if you needed something. You just shouted you needed to be alone. You were in bed, under the blankets with your face under the pillow when you heard one of the servants mention Sandor’s name. 

“He will get her.” 

“You didn’t hear. He’s Joffrey’s guard now.” The servants grew quiet and you heard them walk away from the door. You begin to ponder on what you have done to upset Sandor so much for him to leave you. Everything was going great, plans were set and you were ready to leave this wretched place. You let out a sob at the thought of your mother. She had told you men only wanted one thing from a women but Sandor was never like that. You were the first to touch him. You were the first to kiss him and you were the first to tell him that you loved him. 

You had to leave your room the next day. The servants had told you that your father requested your presence for breakfast. The servants glanced at one another as you kept quiet while they helped you dress for the day and comb your hair. You felt one of them behind you finishing a braid and placed her hands on your shoulders. 

“Look at you, princess. You look beautiful.” She told you. You look ahead at the mirror and look at yourself. She gave you a smile but you kept the same stoic expression. She had braided your hair and left a few strands to frame your face. They had picked out a light blue dress with white lace on the hem of the dress. You remained silent as you walked out of the room to meet your father. Entering the hall you came to a halt when you saw Joffrey sitting next to your father already eating. Your father sat at the head of the table, Robert’s dark eyes widened at the sight of you. Waving for you to come, you walked inside. You glance back at Joffrey and feel your heart drop at the sight of Sandor standing by the wall behind him. Sandor kept looking forward with a straight face. 

You quickly walked to your father, leaning down to kiss his pudgy cheek. Thanking one of the male servants who pulled your chair for you, you sat on the right side of your father. 

“I didn’t see you yesterday, dear.” Robert said as your plate was being served and Robert’s cup was being filled with more wine. 

“Forgive me, father. I was tired from walking around King’s Landing. I mostly slept and needed much rest. I apologize for troubling you especially during these times.” You had come up with the lie yesterday and knew if you apologized enough he would brush this over. 

“This war.” Robert said before taking a drank from his wine. 

“This war is the last thing on my mind. You are what matters.” You tried to ignore Joffrey’s face. Joffrey’s eyes grew hard and his thin lips turned into a frown at Robert’s word.

“What’s the matter?” Robert asked when he saw how down you looked. Sandor watched the servants glancing at one another waiting for your response. Robert kept his eyes on you when you didn't respond right away. “I think I'm coming down with something. Don’t feel well.” 

“Someone bring a maester.” Robert yelled at the servants. “Eat. The maids told me you haven't left your chambers yesterday.” His words were soft and you nodded looking down at the plate. 

“Probably caught something from feeding those peasants. That's what you get for being so close to those animals.” Joffrey said, stabbing his fork into his food. 

Before Robert could speak you answered your brother. “They are not animals. They are humans just like us.” 

“You have spent so much time with them. You have gone mad. Perhaps from being very close to one.” Joffrey said with a smirk. Sandor for the first time in his life, prayed. He prayed to whatever the fuck was up in the heavens to listen to him. He hoped King Robert didn’t think there was any meaning behind Joffrey’s words. The servants and knights watched as Joffrey and you glared at each other. 

“ENOUGH.” Robert shouted at Joffrey. You remained quiet thinking what he meant. Looking at Joffrey, your eyes glance up at Sandor. You wanted to cry all over again, he had his usual scowl and his eyes were hard. He couldn't even look at you. He didn't want to, he knew he would break character. He would rather be punished than have you think he didn’t love you but he couldn't have you get hurt. 

“Is there a reason why you have Sandor as your guard now?” Sandor’s heart dropped to the floor at Robert’s question. “I’m sure my sister would like to answer that.” Joffrey said, trying his best to hide his smile.

You wanted to throw the plate of food at your brother’s face. You didn't know what to say. How can you tell your father that Sandor had broken your heart after being together for years. You didn't want Sandor to be punished or worse, executed for being with you. Sandor had hurt badly but you still loved him.  Clearing your throat, you look over at your father. You told the lie you came up with. A lie that would change your life forever. 

“I think it’s time for me to get married.” Joffrey and Robert frowned. 

“I won't be able to do that. Like mother said, that d-man is always behind me.” You had refused to call Sandor a dog. You wouldn't do it even if you were angry at him for leaving you.  Joffrey leans back against his chair and gives you a glare. 

“I see.” Robert said looking unsure. You had to make sure your father believed you. For Sandor’s sake and yours. If Sandor didn't want you then you would leave King’s Landing. 

“I will write to my betrothed in Dorne and ask if he still wants our houses to be joined.” Robert gave you a look still not believing since you fought so hard to not be married. 

“This will be a good thing. Dorne's army had risen as well their weapons. Houses are sliding with your brother, father. We need the manpower. I know Dorne will keep me safe. You have done so much for me, father. Let me help you in the only way I can. I must marry.” You finished with a nod looking at Robert seriously. Joffrey was angry when Robert yelled at him but the look Robert gave you infuriated Joffrey. Robert looked proud at you. 

“Spoken well, my dear. Dorne is fortunate to have a true, strong Baratheon.” Robert gave you a smile and quickly rose up saying he will write to Drone himself about this matter. 

“Dog, let’s go.” Joffrey shouted, throwing his fork on the table after Robert left in a hurry to write the letter. Force of habit, you were about to yell at Joffrey for calling Sandor a dog but you remembered he wasn’t your guard anymore. Sandor isn’t your lover or your guard or your friend anymore. You look over when Sandor begins to walk behind Joffrey. Blinking the unshed tears away, you took a deep breath. You were alone at the table. You can feel the eyes of the servants behind you, waiting for your next move. 

“May I have wine, please?” You asked and quickly a cup was placed in front of you. A servant came beside you and leaned forward to fill your cup. 

“Thank you.” Your voice was soft as you grabbed the cup. Staring at the red liquid inside of it, you wondered why Cersei drank so much. Is this why your father drank so heavily? Both of them were unhappy with their life so they drank. No one said a word when you drank the cup completely, drank it in a hurry that it spilled from the corner of your mouth and dripped down to your dress, staining it. When you were done, you asked for another and another. They kept their silence when you stood up without touching your plate, disregarding the maester that came in. With the cup in your hand, you began to walk out of the room to your bed chambers. 

Your days were spent like that. Waking up and asking for a pitcher of wine. You stayed in your room for hours, with no human contact, just your books and wines. At night, you cried yourself to sleep. Dreams of being with Sandor and nightmares of him screaming that he never did love you woke you up. 

“Lord Baelish.” You greeted him when you opened the door of your chambers after you heard a knock. He stood outside your door with a smile and his hands clasped behind him. 

“Princess, I haven’t seen you in days. How are you doing?” 

“I’m alright.” He gives you a nod before stepping close to you. 

“We should walk in the garden, princess. I have some news.” Your eyes widened and you nodded at him. Lord Baelish waited outside with the new guard appointed to you by your father. The guard was a young man, not tall as Sandor but he had a kind face. Walking side by side with Lord Baelish and the guard a few feet behind. Lord Baelish filled you in with the war. The last battle wasn’t going well for your father, he was losing men and Dorne hasn't responded yet with his letter. 

“You wanted to know if the Hound was doing alright, correct?” Lord Baelish asked, looking over at you as you stopped in front of a bench. 

“That is right, I care for all the servants.” You said getting close to him, you didn't want him to grow suspicious on why you were so interested in Sandor. Lord Baelish froze when you placed a hand on his chest. Playing with the buttons of his shirt, you grabbed his hand and pulled him down to sit with you on the bench. 

“I care for all my friends as well.” You said as you pulled Lord Baelish’s hand on your lap. His hand were so different from Sandor. Lord Baelish hands were soft and small with no evidence that he has done manual labor in his entire life. Running your fingers over his knuckles, you wished it was Sandor. Sandor’s hands were a gift from the Seven. His hands are large, fingers are thick and rough. He had scars and calluses on his hands from working and fighting. You pressed your thighs together when you remember how big they felt inside of you. The way you drooled on them when Sandor was making love to you.  

“Good princess, keep sucking on them.” You let out a deep breath and let Lord Baelish’s hand go. 

“You’re far too kind, Princess. You amaze me everyday.” You look over at him with a smile. You felt bile coming up your throat at the look he gave you. 

“Sandor is doing well. Joffrey and him visited the brothel last week. Sandor fucked a whore bloodily. He has become quite the beast since he started to guard your brother.” 

You felt an arrow being shot in your chest by his words. Sandor was at a brothel. Sandor was sleeping with another woman who wasn't you. You wanted to cry all over again. You began to wonder if Sandor had been with anyone else when he was with you. The nights you shared your bed with him, was he sharing his with another? Did those lips you love so much were on someone else's lips? 

“Lord Baelish, do forgive me. I have forgotten that my mother asked to see me before dinner. I must see her. She said it was rather important.” You rambled as you got up from the bench. 

“Farewell, my dear friend.” Lord Baelish was starstruck when you placed a kiss on his chin before walking away without waiting for his response. He kept his gaze on you, watching you walk away. 

“Princess, if he has done something. Tell me right now.” Your guard said when saw you in tears. He had taken his helmet off and kneel in front of you when you barged into your chambers in tears. 

“I swear it. I will kill him.” You look at your guard who held a concerned look on his young face.  When he was about to rise up to leave the room. You held on to his shoulder, you quickly removed your hand.

“Please don’t. Lord Baelish hasn’t done anything. He just brought me sad news.” The guard nodded before looking down at the ground. 

“I’m sorry, princess. Let me know if you need anything. I’ll help you.” Wiping your tears with the back of your hand. You glance at the guard who kept his gaze on the ground below you. 

“Thank you. What’s your name?” The guard looks up. “It’s Felix, princess.” You nodded at him. 

“Well Felix, would you like to join me for some tea?” You asked since he was so kind to you. He rose a brow at you in shock by your invite. “Or you can have some wine or ale. Whatever your choice is, it's yours.” You added just realizing now how ridiculous it is, that a knight will drink some tea. 

“Are you always this nice?” His question caught you by surprise. You noticed he was staring at you. His eyes had a pretty shade of blue, his nose and lips were thin. 

“I try to be but now I’m thinking I should change that.” Felix saw how your eyes dropped down to the ground. “You shouldn’t. There’s not enough nice people in the seven kingdoms. I’m happy that I am guarding one of them.” You smiled at his words. 

“Tea does sound good but I would prefer ale.” He told you as he rose up from the ground. 

“Then you shall have ale, Ser Felix.” 

The days went on and Ser Felix made it manageable. The servants seemed to be happy that you were talking again but once in a while they would find you staring off in the distance. Word of Sandor’s vicious attitude has gotten around the castle. Joffrey has grown to be more aggressive to the servants and to the people around him. You had refused to look at Joffrey and Sandor. It has been a few weeks and you haven’t spoken to either of them. Whenever you walked down the hallway, you kept your gaze ahead and if you happened to meet Sandor and Joffrey, you passed them like they didn’t exist. You ignored Joffrey as he taunted you while making your way with Ser Felix behind you. 

Sandor kept staring at the new guard, Ser Felix was strapping a saddle on a horse. Sandor was behind a pillar as the servants came up to Ser Felix and handed him a large satchel. Sandor knew you were going to walk again, giving food out. He felt ridiculous for being jealous that you were going with the new guard instead of him. He always went with you when doing that. Sandor thought he could handle being Joffrey’s guard. He couldn't, it took all the strength in him to not strangle the prince. He had gotten used to sitting down with you and eating meals with you but Joffrey didn’t care if he ate or rested. Joffrey would call him a dog or worse snap his fingers at him and because of it. His attitude changed more, he was more angry. 

He was furious that he was taken away from you. Furious that the new guard you had, is so close to you. Sandor had watched you and Ser Felix walking in the garden. You drank tea, while your guard drank a cup of ale. He kept updates on you, your servants were kind enough to fill him in. He felt horrible when they told him you barely ate and you weren't yourself but you were getting better now with Ser Felix. News of the prince of Drone arriving at King’s Landing had broken him. He was drinking in his new chambers that Joffrey provided him. It was half of a room now and the bed was uncomfortable. Sandor knows the prince will wed you and will take you away from here. Away from him. Joffrey had taken him to a whorehouse to celebrate the prince coming to take you away. Joffrey did it to hurt him and it did. “Go find yourself a new bitch, dog.” 

Sandor obeyed him and grabbed the nearest girl from her wrist. He didn’t look at her or asked her for her name. Sandor ignored the girl who was sitting on the bed waiting for him but he sat by the corner of the room with a cup of ale. The girl grew worried when Sandor didn’t move from his spot, he just kept staring at the ground as he drank. After an hour had passed and the girl flinched when Sandor finally rose up from his chair. The pitcher near him was empty and the sun was setting. He walked towards the bed and threw two silver coins near her.

“If they ask you, tell them I fucked you bloody. You hear me, girl? If you don’t say that. I’ll fucking kill you.” Sandor snapped at her and she nodded at him. 

There was a relieved look on her face when she realized Sandor was really not going to do anything to her. He was about to walk out the room when he froze and grabbed a dragger from his belt. The girl let out a whimper when Sandor raised the dragger. She saw Sandor slicing the bottom edge of his palm, just enough for him to bleed. She flinched when Sandor walked towards her and yelped when he pushed her back and lifted her skirt. She felt him wipe his blood on inner thighs. She pushed herself up when Sandor left the room without saying another word. Sandor walked out of the whorehouse and saw Joffrey had waited for him outside the establishment, in a carriage. He brought the window down and had a handkerchief over his nose and mouth. Sandor wanted to roll his eyes. Joffrey still hadn’t gotten used to the smell of the shit city. 

“How was your new bitch?” Joffrey asked as Sandor walked closer to him. “Tight.” Sandor answered as he signaled Stranger to come forward. He just wanted to go back to his room and be alone. He wanted to sleep because at least he’s with you in his dreams. 

Sandor watched as the new guard gave you a smile as you walked towards him, you were ready for the day. You had a light brown dress on. He left when you began to walk with the new guard. Trying to ignore the horrible gut feeling in his stomach. Few hours later he stood behind Joffrey as the prince was with his father in a council meeting. Robert was in the middle of talking when the door opened with a bang. One of the king's guards came running inside. Robert was about to yell at the guard when the guard announced something that turned Sandor’s blood cold. 

“There was a riot, your grace. The princess was giving them food when it broke out. We found her guard, he’s been killed. Ripped limb from limb. We can’t find the princess.” 

Robert rose from his seat and began to yell for every knight to search the city. “I want every house, every building searched.” He screamed as Marcella and Tommen were being comforted by Cersei. 

“Stay here, dog.” Joffrey commanded him after Robert said every available knight must go. “My pri-“ “Stay put!” Joffrey yelled at Sandor cutting hm off as he looked out the balcony. 

Sandor could hear the screams of the people as the knights barged into their homes. Flipping it inside out then leaving for the next spot. He knew the feeling in his gut was right, something bad did happened. His eyes widened when he saw Jamie Lannister and his group walking up the hill. Jamie was carrying you. You laid unconscious in his arms.  Jamie had found you after an older woman and her daughter saved you and hid you in their house. Sandor stared at the woman and her daughter as they were brought into question. They stood in the middle of the court and explained Robert what had happened. Sandor looked down to see the daughter’s feet. She wore your shoes that you had gifted her. 

“It’s the war, your grace. With barely enough food going around, they became crazy. Everything was going well. The princess was handling food when the people from flea bottom started to cut the line.” 

The woman started to tear up as she continued. “She tried her best to calm them. She didn’t want the children to get hurt. They ignored her and took her guard. She tried to help him.” 

“She cried out to them to stop as they began to beat him and started to pull his limbs.” The woman let out a deep breath. Her daughter rubbed her back for comfort.

“That’s when the riot broke out. The city split into two. Many tried to protect her, we love her, your grace” Robert stared at the woman below him as she confessed their love for you. 

“We love the Princess. Is she alright? We are all worried for her.” The woman began to cry loudly as she fell on her knees in front of the court. 

Sandor snuck into your bed chamber in the middle of the night when you haven’t woken up in two days. Robert usually left at night after spending his morning and afternoon in your room. Something changed in the drunken king after the incident with you. Robert punished the flea bottom for it, he gave rewards to anyone who knew who started the riot. Sandor shuts the door behind him carefully making his way towards you. He can hear your soft breathing. He freezes at the sight of you. You’re laying on your bed with your hands resting top on your stomach. He can see bruising on the right side of your face, they have washed you and clothed you in a nightgown. He couldn’t get rid of the sight of the light brown dress you had on earlier that day you left. It was bloody and caked with shit and dirt from the streets when they found you. 

Sandor whispers your name. He knew he shouldn’t be in your room. He shouldn’t have come here but it was killing him not seeing you. Even if you weren’t speaking to him, he at least got to see you but now since you've been hurt. He hadn’t seen you at all. Sandor touches your hand, he brings one of your hands up to his lips. Kissing it and nuzzling into your palm as he leans down. He starts to breathe heavily as he cups his face with your hand.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers as he stares down at you. Your hand falls limp and he brings it back to his face, using his other hand to keep your hand in place. Knowing the maesters should be making their rounds soon. He leans down, close to your face. The bed dips under his weight. He says your name once more and kisses you on the lips. Sandor whines as he kisses you once more. Savoring it, since it will be the last time. He hoped you would wake up in time to get healed before the prince from Dorne arrived. 

“I love you.” He whispered against your lips. Pouring everything he had left to give, he kissed you for the last time. He blinked the tears away and walked away from the bed. He gives you one last look over his shoulder before he leaves and continues to pretend that he doesn't love you. You woke up the next day and found your father sitting next to you. He had hugged you and kissed your forehead calling the maesters to come and check up on you. Your servants stood outside your chambers when Robert told you about the news of Ser Felix. 

They cover their mouth with their hands to stop themselves from crying when they hear your cries. You let out a sob after learning what happened to him. You cried in your father’s arms at the horrible news of Ser Felix's death. Robert had you tell him everything from your point of view. He was happy when your story matched the same one from the woman. Robert had forbidden you to go back to the city, he had grown close to you as the days passed and it only made Joffrey more angry to the point that Sandor had witnessed Joffrey being the true monster he is. Sandor stood outside of the prince's chambers as the prince laughed loudly while he shot a whore in the leg with his bow and arrow. Sandor disposed of the body the next day and pretended nothing happened just like Joffrey did. Sandor only saw you when the family sat together eating dinner. It was the only time when Robert wanted to be seated together. Cersei and Joffrey had gotten annoyed at the fact that Robert wanted you close to him. Sandor watched as you barely ate but you drank more and more each day. You never looked up from your plate only when your father spoke to you. He can see the fake smile you gave everyone including the servants. 

You gave the same fake smile when you were told the prince is making his way up to King’s landing. 

The castle was going crazy the following day for the arrival of the Prince from Dorne. All morning your servants waited on you, they washed you, clothed you into one of the finest dresses you were gifted. You allowed them to place a diamond necklace around your neck as they rubbed oil on your arms and legs, you tried your best to be excited like they were but you just couldn't. You tried your best to be in a good mood but nothing was working. You had nightmares every night since you woke up. Your dreams would be flooded with the sight of Ser Felix being ripped apart, you started to imagine his screams and the sound of his flesh being torn. You can still recall the pushes and the slaps you received when you tried to break the riot apart. You had called out for Sandor, you screamed his name as the riot broke out. Thinking about it now, you felt ridiculous for shouting his name.

You felt nothing even when the prince walked towards you when you entered the great hall. It was dinner and he was the first to rise up from his seat. He was tall, had brown curls on top of his head and his eyes matched his hair color. His skin was tan and it went well with the yellow mustard robe he wore. You gave him a smile as he introduced himself, while grabbing a hold of your hand. He leans down to kiss your knuckles and you glanced behind him. 

Catching Sandor’s gaze across the room, he quickly looked away and you did the same. The prince's name was Lewyn, second of his name. He sat across from you and you had to admit. He was very handsome. Speaking with Lewyn had eased your worry of not liking your husband to be. He was kind and respectful. You were surprised when he gave you his condolences about your guard, Ser Felix. Walking around the garden, he told you that he knew about the incident that had occurred. You immediately thought, he wouldn't want to join houses because of it. Your mother had screamed up a storm, telling you to stop with this excessive idea of helping the poor. 

“To be honest, I thought the stories about you were lies.” He said and you froze next to him. He turned to face you. 

“The most kind and beautiful princess to have ever lived.” You blushed hard at his words. “The stories are true and I'm happy because of it. I need a good and kind woman by my side.” For a moment you had forgotten all about what happened the last few months as he leaned down to kiss your cheek. His lips were soft and he smelled like the sun and spices. 

A celebration was in order according to Robert, House Baratheon and House Martell will be joining together. Robert had deemed that the celebration of your engagement will be the largest celebration the Seven Kingdoms will ever witness. The days passed and everyone was preparing for the celebration. The castle was being cleaned and decorated. Everyone who your father invited was coming to King's Landing. You greeted the Starks, Arryn, Greyjoy, Mormont, Tarly, Tyrell, Glover and more as they came to the celebration. Everything was overwhelming but you were grateful for Lewyn. As the days passed you grew closer to him, he never left you unattended. Walks around the gardens and eating meals together. He showed you books he had brought you about his home. The time you had a moment for yourself was at night. You stayed up staring at the ceiling as you thought about Sandor. 

You haven't seen Sandor as Joffrey was doing god knows what. You touched your lips as you remembered the dream you had. You had dreamt that Sandor had come to your room in the middle of the night and kissed you. The dream felt so real, he kissed you and told you he had loved you. Shutting your eyes you traced your lips with your fingers as you placed the other hand on your chest. You can recall his smell and his warmth. You imagine Sandor between your legs. You cupped your breasts, imagining it was Sandor’s large hands. You let out a whine as you pulled your nipple over your nightgown as you remembered the last time you were intimate with him. Your cunt clenched around the nothingness as you remembered his cock going in and out of you. Taking your hand from your lips, you bring it under the covers and under your nightgown. You moaned when you touched your clit, you whispered his name as you remembered how good his fingers felt, how good his tongue felt on your cunt. 

“Sandor!” You cry out as you slip your finger inside of you. 

The night ended and the sun rose, it was the morning of the celebration. The official announcement of your engagement. Robert wanted you to have this since your wedding will be held in Drone. Lewyn wished for you to be married in his home and you accepted it. You knew you couldn’t get married in the same room with Sandor. You were woken a bit later by your servants who came inside your chambers to get you ready. The morning seems like a blur to you, you allowed them to fawn over you. While they dressed you one of the servants gave you a note from Prince Lewyn. His words made you smile but you felt nothing. He wished you a good morrow and he will count the seconds until he gets to see you again. 

“This seems a bit too much.” You said as you stood in front of the door of the great hall while looking at the decorations hanging by the door. You were unaware of your uncles behind you. Jamie who stood with Tyrion just smiled at you.

“Is that so?” Tyrion said as he stepped near you. He was dressed in red and golden robe while Jamie wore his golden armor. Giving a warm smile to your uncles, he asked you to kneel down. You tried your best with the dress you had on. 

“You’re not like us, child.” You frowned and he continued. “I'm so happy you aren't. You're different and I pray that you will live a happy life in Drone.”

“You think I will live a happy life?” You asked him and he nodded. You don't believe him as you stood up with the help of Jamie who lent you his arm. 

“Your husband-to-be, shall be standing near your father. Just walk towards the throne.” Jamie said as the servants came in to fix the train of your dress. Jamie kissed you on the cheek and wished you good fortune. 

They handed you a bouquet of flowers as you heard the music start to play. The guards opened the doors and you looked ahead. Everyone's eyes were on you as you walked to the throne. Your hands shook but you continued on. You can see Eddard Stark along with his wife standing. They gave you a nod as the guards announced your name. Lewyn stood below the steps of the throne where your father sat. He smiled when you made eye contact with him. He was dressed in beautiful silver and white dress robes. It matched with your dress. He gives you his arm and helps you walk up the steps. 

“You're absolutely breathtaking.” He whispered to you as both of you stood in front of your father. 

Sandor watched with a heavy heart as you walked to your husband-to-be. The gown trailed behind you and the diamond necklace around your neck shined with every step you took. The guards and servants whispered amongst themselves about your appearance, calling you an angel. Robert made a speech about the houses joining together, you tried to look at the prince but your eyes wanted to look over at your family side, for you hoped to see Sandor. Lewyn leaned towards you to whisper in your ear after Robert’s speech. 

“Your father mentioned to me that you are close with the people of King’s Landing. He didn't want you walking around anymore. I was able to do something since this will be their last chance to see you.” Lewyn said as he held your hand and walked with you down the hall. 

Walking to the front doors of the castle, he gently squeezed your hand as he waved the guards to open the doors of the castle. The moment the doors opened you can hear cheering and your name being shout. You let go of his hand as you walked forward seeing the people of King’s Landing standing out of the castle. Knights were lined up as a wall, keeping the large crowd back. The people in King's Landing grew silent when you stepped closer to them. They haven’t seen you in weeks after the riot, they stood staring at you in complete awe by the way you’re dressed. A smile appeared on your face and you chuckled in shock at the amount of people who showed up. You waved at them and the silence disappear, they cheered loudly as you waved at them. They shouted the word princess over and over again as they waved their hands and arms. They threw flowers at your feet. Robert stood behind you as he watched in disbelief by how much the people loved you but that's why you were called the Realm's Delight.

It soon changed when the crowd started to push the knights back trying to get closer to you. There was a shout and the knights a few feet in front of you fell back, the crowd pushed forward. Robert yelled at the knights to keep formation. 

“PRINCESS!” You gasped when people started to run towards you. Robert pushed you behind as Jamie started to run towards the crowd. One man had managed to go under the knights and threw himself at your feet. Leywen gathered you in his arms pulling you back, you almost tripped on the train of your dress. The man was about to touch your dress when there was a rough growl and a tall frame came between you and the man. 

You watched as Sandor grabbed the man from the back of his shirt. Growling at his face, Sandor gave him a glare. “You dare to touch her.” Sandor snapped as he grabbed a hold of the man’s neck, pulling him up. The servants and the Lords and ladies gasped. 

“Sandor! Please! Stop it. Don’t hurt him.” You shouted, pushing yourself away from Leywen, reaching for Sandor’s arm.  Sandor drops the man when he feels you grab a hold of his arm. He looks at you and takes a step back. The man is gasping for air on the floor. 

“Y/n!” Cersei shouted pushing the ladies out of her way when she saw you leaning over the gasping man. 

“Are you alright?” You asked as you helped the man who still on his knees. You ignored the muttering behind you from the lords and ladies when you offered your hand to him, a commoner. 

“Get away from him.” Cersei forcefully pulled you back making you wince from her gripped. 

“Throw him away!” Cersei shouted at Sandor. He glances over at you for a second, taking in your facial expression. He looked away when Leywen walked in front of you. The prince looked over at you, taking your face in his hands. 

It was two days after the celebration when Sandor was told of the news of the war. Robert’s brother was going to attack soon again. One of Lord Varys’ spies had found out and Robert was getting ready. Sandor stood behind Joffrey when he received the news that Joffrey will be joining them as well. The blonde looked shocked by it. 

‘What do you mean?” Joffrey asked as Robert grabbed his sword. 

“You're heir to the throne and you haven't fought once in battle. Do you want to sit this out and add more fuel to what the people are saying?” Joffrey glared at his father. 

“I don't care what they have to say about me. I am heir to the iron throne and I can send men in my place.” Robert walked close to him and signaled Sandor to leave the room. He bowed and obeyed, he stood behind the door as Robert yelled at Joffrey. 

The rumors after your celebration had spread throughout the entire kingdom. A rumor that had the council worry. Sandor decided to walk to the armory of the castle. Knowing since Joffrey was going to go, he will have too as well. Sandor isn't afraid of war, he has been in them since he was kid. He looked at the swords and the shields hanging on the walls. 

“Sandor.” He turns when he hears you behind him. You were standing by the entrance. He looks away from you. “Have I angered you so much that you won't even look at me?” Sandor doesn't know what to say.

“I'm truly sorry for whatever I have done. I'm sorry.” He made no response because you were going to leave soon. The prince from Drone had gone back home to start preparing for your arrival and the wedding. You looked happy with the prince, he couldn't take that away from you. Not after he broke you, he tells himself. 

“At least look at me before I leave. I wish to see you one more time.” Sandor shuts his eyes when he feels your hand on his arm. He turns to you and looks down at you. He won't say anything but he will look at you, giving you your last wish before you leave. 

“I want to hate you.” Sandor’s eyes shot open at your words. You gave him a face and repeated it again. 

“I want to hate you. I should hate you.” You cried out slapping his chest with all your might.

“Hate me then.” Sandor said, grabbing a hold of your wrists and holding them. 

“You’re a fucking coward, you know that.” You hissed at him trying to pull away from him but he kept his grip on you tight. Sandor laughs at your face, “Coward, you say.” 

“The coward is your fucking brother.” Sandor said, making you shake your head. 

“He isn't my brother. He's my half brother. I'm nothing like him.” You snapped at him and Sandor pushed you against the wall. He released your wrists and caged you with his arms. 

“You aren't.” Sandor whispered as he stared at you. You don't flinch when he brings his hand to touch your cheek. 

“You ain't nothing like them. Not like your mother who fucks her brother. Not like your devil of a brother. You're kind. You're good, so good.” You held on to his arms as he touched your cheek, you missed his touch. 

“You bring that good to Drone, you hear me. Don’t fucking change.” Sandor tells you softly, making you frown. “I don't want to go to Drone. I want to stay here with you. You made me do this. You made me do it. I did it for you so you wouldn't get punished.” Sandor steps away from you and you quickly go to the entrance, blocking his path. 

“I did it for you because I love you, Sandor Clegane. We still have a chance. We can still run away.” Sandor looks at you with hope for a second. 

“I have to get ready for the battle. I'm going with your brother.” You looked so distraught by this news. 

“Leave with me, please. Right now.” Sandor shook his head at you. “If I leave before the battle, they will know. They will look for me. Joffrey will have my head.” 

“Joffrey has never gone to any battle before. I don't even think he knows how to swing a sword. Why is he even going?” You asked and Sandor looks at you with furrowed brows. 

“You don't know?” He asked you. “I would have thought Little Finger would have told you already.” 

“Told me what?” Sandor stared at you. “The people want you to be their queen. Not your bastard brother.” You stared at him shocked. 

“I don't understand. The realm will never accept a woman on the throne.” You told him, making him shake his head. 

“That was before, now they would rather have you on it. They want you. They have started calling you the rightful heir to the throne. You have done more than Joffrey. Your father is taking him tomorrow to the battle so the people in the realm can see him.” Sandor told you. 

“That day..” Sandor stops in mid and grabs your hand with his. “You should have seen them. Robert saw they loved you but he didn't realize how much. Then you gave your hand out to that man, to help him. A princess helping a commoner. The street started to shout your name and they called you the true heir. The rumor that Cersei and Jamie tried so hard to cover has exploded. The people started to shout bastard at the sight of Joffrey.” 

“My father doesn't believe them, though?” You asked. “ I don't know. The council suggested for him to take Joffrey. He has to do this because half of the army is on your side now.” You frowned. 

“They will serve for the true heir of the throne. A true Baratheon.” 

Sandor felt you grasp his hand and pull him closer to you. “After the battle then? I thought I could go to Drone without you but I can't. My heart refuses to leave you behind.” 

“I won’t watch you marry him.” Sandor said, making you chuckle. “I'm not marrying him. The moment I'm on the road I'm escaping.” 

Sandor frowned as you told him your plan to escape. “You're crazy. You won't survive by yourself.” 

“I only need to survive until I make it 100 miles from Winterfell. Eddard Stark has granted me safe haven until I figure out where to go.” 

“You believe him?” Sandor shouts in disbelief. “He knows of us.” Sandor is left speechless. 

“After the celebration, I was walking in the gardens. I never felt more alone that day. He found me crying, we spoke about what happened with the crowd and it just slipped out. He swore to me he wouldn't say a word. All I have to do is send a raven and he has promised to meet me halfway to escort me back to Winterfell.” 

‘If it's a trap?” Sandor asked angrily. “I don't care. As long as I'm with you.” You answered him. 

“I’ll leave you now. My offer still stands. You will make me the happiest woman if you do come with me, I’ll wait after the battle. I don't know what I have done to you. What I have said but I'm sorry and I love you. I will always love you, Sandor. If this was all just a ruse so you can get your dick wet then enjoy your whore and farewell.” 

Sandor screamed at himself as he watched you walk away. He wanted to run after you. His feet remained glued to the floor. ‘Whore?’ he asked himself. ‘What whore?’ You were the last person he's been with, your lips were the last he has kissed. Sandor manages to break free and begins to walk out of the room and down the hallway. He looks both ways in hope to see you. He's about to walk to your chambers when he hears Joffrey behind him, coming to a halt he turns to see the prince.

“Father, has lost his mind, Dog! He wants us to go tonight. Says I need the experience.” Sandor watches as Joffrey walks towards him with a frown. 

“All because of my bitch sister!” Joffrey yelled. Sandor’s jaw clenched. “This is all because of her. I hate her.” 

“The realm wants a whore who fucks second born sons sitting on the throne.” Joffrey spawned out with hatred. 

Sandor's body has been acting on its own. First holding his feet froze as you left and now his hand is resting on the hilt of his sword. He stared at Joffrey as he tightened his grip on it while Joffrey kept calling you a whore. With one swing, he can kill Joffrey and go to your room. Both of you could run away, go to Winterfell then go to Braavos. He will be free and tell you everything. He will tell you everything and he will be happy. 

Sandor wants to be happy with you. 

“Prince Joffrey!” Sandor drops his hand when Jamie comes walking towards them. “Your horse is ready. We leave now. Your father is waiting for you.” Jamie told him. 

“Very well.” Joffrey answers and signals Sandor to come with him. 

You were looking out the window when you saw your father walking to the stable. You frown when you see the knights do the same. You thought they would leaving tomorrow. You ran out of your chambers and searched for your servants. You found her looking out the balcony outside of your chambers. 

“What's happening?” You asked her and she told you Robert decided to get to the field early so they can have an advantage. 

“The rest of the army will join them at morrow.” She said before walking you back to your chambers. You drank tea that night, trying to ease the unwell feeling in your stomach. You paid no mind to it, you had to get ready to leave. You couldn't sleep that night, the thought of Sandor on the field with your half-brother. Knowing Joffrey, he would make Sandor protect him while he hides away. Packing a light bag the next morning, you grabbed the letter to Eddard Stark. Quickly walking out, you noticed your servants and the guards down the hallway were gone. How strange, it was. 

Out of breath from running, you watched as the raven flew with the letter attached to its leg. You prayed it would make it in time. Walking out of the room, you heard yelling. Making your way to the kitchen, you saw the cooks huddle together as they looked out the door. 

“What's going on?” You asked and they yelped in surprise. They greeted you with a small bow. 

“Tell me at once, what's happening?” You asked worriedly. 

“It's the other knights princess. They don't want to go! They refuse to fight with your bastard brother.” One of the cooks gasped when she let out the word bastard. 

“Forgive me, pri-” You cut her off by shaking your head. “I know, I know all about it.” You told them, making their eyes widen. 

“It's true.” You said with a nod. “But my father still needs them to win this war.” You said pushing the cooks out of the way with the small bag over your shoulder. 

You can hear them shouting for you to come back. Making your way to the stable, you saw the stable boy. You begged him to prepare a horse for you, you were in dire need to get to the rest of the knights who were refusing to go and fight. The stable boy and the cooks watched as you began to ride to the front gates of King’s Landing. 

You saw the golden armor of the King’s guard, it was Jamie second in command. He was arguing with one of the knights as they stayed still. The moment they saw you, they froze. “Princess,” the second in command bowed. 

“Why haven't they moved? The battle can be happening now and my father and Sa-” You stopped yourself, you were going to say Sandor’s name. They couldn't know why you were doing this. 

“We won't fight with that bastard Joffrey.'' One of the knights yelled and the rest cheered.   “How dare you call the heir to the throne a bastard!” Jamie’s second in command yelled. 

“He’s right.” You said and he looked over at you, shocked by what you said. You would have to tell them the truth. It was the only way to help Sandor and your father. Without them, you fear the war will be lost. Gripping the reins of the horse tightly, you took a deep breath and looked over at the knights ahead of you.

“You are all right!” You yelled with all your might. 

“Joffrey is a bastard. His father is Jaime Lannister. You won’t fight for him but I beg you to fight for me. Fight for me!” You cried out. 

“And when we win this war against Stannis, I will speak with my father. If what you say is true, you want me to be your queen. I’ll do it! I’ll be your queen and I'll rule the seven kingdoms with fairness and with just. You will no longer be hungry, no longer shall you worry about how to survive because I will be your queen. A true Baratheon will sit on the Iron Throne. Will you fight this war for me?!” 

You let out a deep breath when they shouted amongst themselves. 

“FOR THE FUTURE QUEEN!! FOR THE FUTURE QUEEN!” 

Jamie’s second in command was astounded as the knights began to get on their horses. “Will you stand by my side as we bring them to my father?” You asked him with hope he will accept. 

He nodded at you. “For our future Queen.” 

Sandor felt like he was sinking under water and his head was ringing. He didn’t see that knight coming at him. Too busy keeping Joffrey safe. His helmet was long gone, he used it to break someone's jaw when he dropped his sword.

This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. Robert’s army should’ve been here. Stannies had decided to attack the moment they saw Robert’s army coming at dawn. Sandor felt Joffrey behind him. Jamie had shouted for the rest of the remaining king’s guard to hold their post. 

“Dog!” Joffrey’s voice echoed in his mind. 

He felt Joffrey hitting Sandor’s on the back. Sandor looked over his shoulder and grabbed Joffrey’s Valyrian steel sword from his hand and swung it across the man near him. Joffrey's mouth dropped open when Sandor completely decapitated the man’s head in one single blow. 

“JOFFREY!” Jamie yelled.  Sandor watched his back as Jamie yelled at Joffrey to go back to base. They had to retreat, they were losing men by the minute. 

“Where’s your father?” Sandor growled as he looked ahead, ready for anyone to get near with Joffrey’s sword in his hand. “I don’t know. You keep this.” Jamie said, handling Joffrey a dagger. 

“I’m not going back.” Joffrey hissed at his uncle. Jamie frowned, “There are not enough men. We have to retreat.” 

“Take him with you.” Sandor snapped at Jamie as a group of men started to head towards them. Jamie grabbed Joffrey by the neck ignoring his shouts to release him. 

Sandor can hear the galloping behind him. Sandor let out a deep breath as he relaxed his nervousness. Sandor Clegane was nervous, he didn’t think he would survive this time. The cut on his arm hurts like a bitch. His head is ringing, he could have sworn he saw a glimpse of you on a horse, the horse is standing on the far edge of a cliff across the field. 

Sandor was so busy looking at you, he didn’t see the man coming at him. Before he could see the man, a horse passed him, taking the man down. The rider had stabbed the man in the head. 

“Clegane.” Robert shouted as he rode towards him. Robert had just saved him. 

Before he could answer, there was a horn that caused them to stop for a second. Robert had sweat dripping down his forehead, blood of his enemies was dripping down his armor. He looks across the field and his dark eyes widened when he saw the other half of his army riding in. There was hope that they would win this war. In the corner of his eyes, he saw two horses standing by the cliff. He saw it was the second in command of the King’s guard and you. You’re on a white horse, staring down at the field. A smile appeared on his tired face, you, his daughter had brought his knights to him. 

They won the war because of you. Robert and his men rode back to base. He frowned when he saw Joffrey's horse standing by the King's tent. 

“Where’s my son?!” He shouted. Robert noticed the angry look on the knights' faces when Joffrey walked out of the tent. Joffrey stood still when he saw Robert getting off his horse and walking towards him. 

“Where were you? You hid?” Robert shouted. Joffrey glared about to say something when they heard the rest coming. Joffrey was seething when he saw you riding first into base with the second in command. The army you brought rode behind you. 

Robert watched as you rode near him. Without a single thought, Robert helped you get down off of your horse. The knights around you stood up from their seats. 

“I had to do it. It was the only way for them to come.” You whispered to Robert, looking at Joffrey by the tent. 

“Do what?” Robert asked, cupping your face. 

“They came here because they fought for me, father. I must tell you something and you have to believe me. Please, let’s go inside.” You said grabbing your father’s hand and tugging him to the tent. 

“What are you doing here?” Joffrey yelled as he walked towards you. “This has nothing to do with you.” You said taking a step back when you saw the craziness in his eyes. 

“Father-.” “Pleas-.” 

Robert hushed both of you as the knights began to shout amongst themselves. “Go inside. I’ll be back to discuss this matter.” Robert tells you before walking to the group of knights. 

You passed Joffrey and walked into the tent. “You just had to be here.” 

You ignored Joffrey and stood at the far end of the tent. “Just because you brought the rest of the army, you think you’re better than me?” Joffrey asked as he came to the table where the maps were laid out. 

“You’re nothing, sister. I count the days where you leave for Drone. I pray to the gods you get sick on your travels and die.” You look at Joffrey. 

“Fuck you.” You spat at him and there was a look of pure anger in his eyes. It scared you because you never saw him like this. 

“He’s dead, you know.” Joffrey said, walking around the table trying to get closer to you. 

“What?” Joffrey nods at you with a smile. “I saw that fucking dog you love so much go down. The sword was rammed in his chest.” You felt your chest tighten by Joffrey’s words. You shook your head, not believing it. Sandor was a good fighter, one of the best swordsmen in the seven kingdoms. 

“You’re lying!” You yelled and walked further away from Joffrey. 

“Then go out to the field and see him for yourself. He’s dead. He did his job to protect me. You can have him back now. I have no use for him anymore.” Joffrey lied to get that reaction he’s been craving. He smiled when he saw you crying. 

“No!” You cried as you covered your mouth. You’re about to walk out of the tent to see it for yourself. “You aren’t going anywhere.” Joffrey screamed and grabbed a hold of your arm, pulling you back inside. 

He pushed you against the table and you let out a whimper when you felt the cold steel of his dagger under your chin. 

“Tell me the truth? Is he really dead?” Joffrey just sighs at you as he pushes the tip of the dagger under your chin making you wince. He smiles when he sees he cut your skin, a trail of blood starts to run down the blade of his dagger. 

“He is dead. You want to know what his last words were?” Joffrey asked with a smile as tears ran down your face. 

“He said. Fuck the whore princess.” Joffrey laughed at you. Joffrey's smile disappeared when you slapped him across the face making him cry out. 

“Fuck you! You fucking bastard.” You yelled at him. Joffrey growled and you let out a gasp when you felt Joffrey’s hand hold your shoulder. 

Looking at Joffrey’s face, you felt frozen for a moment. The anger on his face washed away and a look of panic came across his face. He took a step back and looked down at your chest. Following his gaze, you looked down and saw the hilt of the dagger. Taking a breath, the pain came rushing through you. He stabbed you in the chest with the dagger. Joffrey shook his head as he looked at you. 

“Joffrey.” You cry out and fall down on your knees as you cry out in pain. Joffrey ran out of the tent leaving you behind. You were left alone, you looked down to see blood start to stain the front of your dress. You can feel the blood flowing down your body, you let out a moan of pain with each breath you took. 

You didn’t even hear the commotion outside of the tent as you fell to the ground on your back. You stared at the ceiling of the tent as you cried. Your vision grew blurry, you didn’t hear someone coming in. You didn’t hear the shouts and the sound of someone walking inside. Blinking the tears, you were met with your father’s face. You see his lips moving but no words are coming out. 

You feel so cold now. You let out a groan when you felt someone grabbing a hold of you. Robert started to cry as he held you in his arms. 

Robert shook his head when he saw you were trying to speak but blood started to come out of the corner of your mouth.  He flinched when you started to cough up blood.  The only thing you can do is stare up at him. You were dying and it brought tears to your eyes. You were dying and he wouldn’t know what happened. Robert felt your hand on his cheek as you used all the strength you had left in you. 

“Joff- ery.” Robert frowned when you spoke. "Joffrey."

“Jof-fery did it. H-he is a-a bastard.” You cried as your vision grew dark. “He is a bastard.” Robert felt you go limp in his arms after you said those words. 

He calls out your name as he picks your head up. Something broke Robert in half and he relived the day he was told that Lyanna Stark was murdered. A scream came from inside the tent that made Robert’s army freeze. They all saw how the prince came running out bumping into his father. Robert had commanded Joffrey to stay put and that he will have a word with him after he spoke with you. Jamie yelled at Joffrey to come back when he saw Joffrey mounting the nearest horse. Joffrey rode out as Sandor came walking with a group, he had retrieved his sword and walked back to the base. He stopped when he saw Joffrey riding away and looked ahead when he heard a scream. 

Sandor quickly walked to the white horse he saw you on. He began to breathe quickly when he saw you weren’t on it. He looked around and flinched when he heard Robert’s scream once more. Everyone looked at the tent, all frozen because they never heard Robert scream like this. Sandor shouted your name, not caring what people would think or say. He had to find you. He shouted once more before walking inside of the tent passing Jamie. 

Sandor froze when he entered. He took a step back bumping into Jamie. The King Slayer gasped when he saw the sight of Robert holding your dead body in his arm. Robert sobbed against your neck. Sandor watched how your body trembled with each sob Robert made. Your eyes were open and staring at ceiling. Arms flared out, blood started to pool on the ground and cover Robert’s armor but he didn’t care. Your father held you in his arms. 

Jamie saw the dagger in your chest when Robert pulled away from you to move your hair out of your face. 

“Where is he?” Robert hissed. Sandor and Jamie remained silent. “Where is that blonde bastard?” The look of absolute fear appeared on Jamie’s face. 

The knights outside quickly hushed down when they saw Sandor walk out of the tent. He dragged his sword on the ground as he walked to the nearest tree. Dropping the sword completely he ignored the questions thrown at him. They all looked at themselves when they saw The Hound with tears rolling down from his face. Sandor was in complete shock. His bottom lip trembled as he cried. 

“Where is he?” Robert shouted in the tent and Jamie came out walking backwards. Robert had his sword aimed at him.

“This is a mistake. Joffrey wouldn’t do this.” Jamie explained but the look in Robert’s eyes. Jamie knew it was no use, Robert wanted revenge. 

“Arrest him.” Robert yelled looking at his men. “Wait-this has nothing to do with me.” Jamie yelled as they tackled him down to the ground. Sandor looked over his shoulder when he heard Robert. 

“The person who brings me Joffrey Lannister will be rewarded.” Robert's words rang out and the sound of Jamie screaming no was all that Robert needed. You told him the truth. A few knights had begun to ride back to King’s Landing. 

Joffrey was indeed a bastard. 

Sandor felt like an empty shell as he rode back to King's Landing. The cut on his arm was numbed, the banging in his head was nothing compared to the emptiness he felt in his heart. His blood shot eyes were glued to the wagon a few feet in front of him. Robert rode his horse as he led another with a wagon attached to it. He laid you there when they started to get ready to ride back. The knights that stayed bowed their heads when Robert came out of the tent with you in his arms. Robert covered you with a blanket, his hands shook as he checked you were strapped in. 

Sandor can see the outline of your body, your body moved whenever there was a bump in the road. He had shut his eyes when he saw the blood seeping through the blanket. Robert decided to ride through the gates of the back of the castle. The servants and stable boys were all waiting to tend the wounded and the horses. Robert got off his horse and saw Cersei walking towards him with a frown when she noticed Jamie was chained. 

“What is the meaning of this? Joffrey has barricaded himself in his room. He won’t open the door. My brother has been arrested.” Cersei yelled at him. She was met with a slap across her face that made her fall to the ground. 

“Is Joffrey mine?” Robert asked, looking down at her. Cersei’s eyes widened in surprise but she hid it with a look of anger. 

“Don’t you fucking lie to me.” Cersei flinched under his gaze and looked away. She looked ahead at his horse and noticed a wagon with a body on it. 

“That bastard killed my daughter.” Robert yelled, grabbing Cersei by the hair and dragged her to the wagon. Cersei yelled in pain as he dragged her over. Robert ripped the blanket off of your body and pushed Cersei down on her knees in front of you. All she did was stare as the servants behind her scream in terror at the sight of you. Your servants began to cry and fell on their knees from shock. 

Cersei just stared in shock, Robert grew angry when she didn't show any emotions. Cersei yelped when Robert grabbed a hold of her blonde hair again. Jamie screamed across from, screaming at Robert to let her go. 

“Your grace, what's the meaning of this?” Jon Arryn, the hand of the King said as he walked along with the maester to Robert. 

Jon Arryn froze when he saw you. He looked at Robert and at Cersei on the floor. Robert kept staring at her as Jon started to yell at everyone to leave. The stable boys grabbed the horses and brought them to the stables while the servants tried to cover their cries. 

“Chain her with her brother.” Robert told Jon Arryn. The news of your death was not announced until two days later. Those two days seemed to be a nightmare to most. Robert had caused a rampage in the castle. Jamie and Cersei Lannister were arrested. Robert had the doors of Joffrey’s chambers broken down and the knights grabbed a hold of the blonde boy. They found him hiding under his bed. He screamed with all his might as they dragged him down the hall. Tommen and Marcella were kept guarded in the Red Keep, they had Jon Arryn to thank for. Robert had become ruthless and wanted every Lannister executed including the children. 

Sandor stayed in his room those two days. He locked himself. He ignored the shouts and the screams from Joffrey who was being dragged to the dungeons. He ignored the knocks from your servants. He didn’t want to see anyone. He didn’t want to speak to anyone. He laid on his bed, covering his face with his pillow as he sobbed. He screams into the pillow trying to cover the sound. He cried until he fell asleep and woke up to do it all over again. 

He shouted at the person to fuck off when he heard a knock on the third day. His throat was sore from the screams. 

“It’s me, Sandor. It’s Ned Stark.” Sandor froze as Ned knocked once more. “I need to speak with you.” Sandor rose up from his bed and walked to the door. 

Sandor notices Ned has been crying as well. His eyes were red and he let the lord walk inside. Ned walked in, looking at the room before looking back at Sandor.

“Did she tell you-.” Sandor cuts Ned off with a nod as he shuts the door. 

“Very well then. I’m sure she didn’t tell you but she wanted me to tell you in case the plan fell through. She wanted me to give you a place in Winterfell, if you want too. Since Joffrey is still kept in the dungeon, you can come back with us after the funeral. I will arrange for some of my men to escort you to Winterfell unseen.” Sandor frowned. 

“She asked you?” Ned nodded with a small smile. “She knows you've been treated unfairly by Joffrey. She wrote to me before her death, in case something happened to please have a place for you. She loved you, I didn’t understand it at first but the way she spoke about you. She called you a good man, a man with honor.” 

Sandor shook his head. “I’m not a good man. I broke her heart because Joffrey threatened to have us exposed. He threatened to have her executed for being with me. For being with a dog, a second born son. It’s my fault she died. It’s all my fault.” Ned watched in silence as Sandor sat down on his bed and covered his face with his hands. 

“You didn’t kill her. Joffrey did. It’s not your fault. In the end, I know for a fact she knew you still loved her. She had to know because why would she send me a letter asking for safe haven for you if she couldn’t make it.” 

“The Lannister's trial will start soon. I don’t know about you but I can’t wait to see their faces. Robert's decision is final on them.” Ned told him and left the room leaving Sandor in his thoughts. 

The trial ended with Jamie and Tyrion sent to the wall for their remaining days, it was thanks to their father, Tywin Lannister. He had rode to King’s landing demanding for his children's freedom but at the end. Tywin had begged for his sons to not be executed. 

“Kill all the bastards, for all I care.” Tywin said, ignoring Cersei's cries. “And your whore daughter?” 

Tywin looked at Robert and picked a decision that will haunt him for the rest of his life. “Do what you like, your grace. This is the last time she will tarnish the Lannister's name.” 

Before the trial ended, Robert called out for Tywin. “Take your sons to the wall, Lord Lannister and stay there with them.” Tywin’s face fell, all the Lannister's were punished for Joffrey’s doing. 

For the first time, the people in King’s Landing didn’t push and shove to see you or touch you. They stood in silence, some cried and others just watched as the knights carried your body in an open carriage. You laid on a bed of flowers, you wore a black and golden color dress as a tribute to your House. Your hands laid on top of your stomach as you laid there peacefully. 

Making it to the Red Keep, the knights carried you inside where the realm can give you their last goodbye to you. Everyone had gone home when Sandor visited you. He dropped his shoulders and he felt the tears well up in his eyes at the sight of you laying so still in the middle of the keep. Lit candles surrounded you and you had golden coins laid on top your eyes. He removed his sword and wineskin from his belt, placing it by the wall as he walked towards you. 

His hands shook as he tried to reach for your hand. He flinched when he felt how cold you were and stiffed. He grabbed it, ignoring it and bringing it up to his lips. 

“I’m sorry.” He mumbles against your knuckles. “I’m sorry, Princess.” He cries out. After a few minutes, Sandor clears his throat after saying his goodbyes to you. “I’m not going to Winterfell. We were supposed to go together.” He gently puts your hand back in place.

Before Sandor leaves, he looks down at you once more. “I love you. I will always love you.” 

Grabbing his sword and wineskin, he shuts the doors behind and walks down the steps of the Red Keep, he ignores the two bodies stung up across from him. He had no need to see Joffrey and Cersei again. He walked to the stable to find Ned and his men. Sandor walked to Stanger, giving his head a rub before looking at Ned. 

“Are you sure?” The Lord of Winterfell asked him. Sandor nodded at him. 

“He just needs some time when it comes to new people. He’s a war horse, fast and strong.” Ned nodded before reaching his hand out for Stranger to smell it. 

“We will take good care of him. Rob, my oldest needs a good horse. I swear Stranger will be well taken care of.” Sandor gives Ned the reins of Stranger and pats him once more as goodbye. Sandor watches as Ned and his men begin to travel back to the North. He wasn't worry about giving Stranger away, Sandor knew Ned will be true to his word. Stranger will be taken care of by his new owner.  

Sandor doesn't tell anyone where he’s going off too. He walks out of King's Landing and walks through the forest to the edge of the cliff where he saw the sun was setting. Removing his sword and wineskin, he sits down and leans back against the tree as he remembers the sound of your laughter. This is the place, the place where you kissed him for the first time. You had managed to convince him to take you out after being cooped up in the castle. He was sitting on a rock as you gave him a wineskin out of your bag. It was out of nowhere but you had walked towards him catching him by surprise and you were at the perfect height to kiss him. 

Sandor grabs the wineskin he brought and brings it up to his nose to smell it. He looks ahead at the scenery with a smile. Maybe it was the gods showing him a vision, or perhaps it was all in his head but he can see himself with you at the same spot on the rock where you kissed him. He had returned those kisses, gathering you up in his arms and both of you stayed there for a while. He forced himself to drink the wine as he stared ahead watching the sunset. He wanted to be with you. Throwing the empty wineskin, he looks down at his hands. His eyesight blurred and he looked up to find himself back in your room. 

“Your hands are huge, Sandor.” He looks to his right to see you under the covers, naked. He notices the look on your face, the love bites on your chest were fresh. He lets you grab a hold of hand and compares it with yours.

“My hands aren’t not huge. You're just small.” Sandor comments as you raise his hand with your up in the air as the sunlight of the morning shined through the window of your chambers. Sandor had grabbed your hand and rolled over on top of you making you laugh as he kissed your neck. 

Ser Gregor stood next to Sandor’s body. They finally found him after four days later when he received news of Sandor's disappearance. His men found him, found his body laying against a tree, with the sun beaming down on him. One of his men brought the wineskin near Sandor's body to Ser Gregor. Bringing it up to his nose, Ser Gregor makes a face when he smells the poison. 

“Let’s take him back home.” Ser Gregor said, looking down at his younger brother one more time. It's the first time he had seen his brother so at peace. Sandor had died with a smile on his face.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

<- Chapter 2

Taglist: @federalclassroom @snixx2088 @just-a-burning-memory @darknight3904 @watercolorskyy @@nothing2113 @thyjinji @norakbubbles @mrs-marvel-addict @ellesmythe

[slow-motionlovepotion]

𝒅𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒆 | 𝒋.𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒓

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈:  Joel Miller x f!Reader

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 4.6K - this was not meant to be this long, oops.

𝒂/𝒏: I'm feral for Joel Miller and I won't apologise for that. This ended up so much softer than I planned but Joel Miller deserves to be loved, goddmit. part two is already in progress ~ no beta, we die like men

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: 18+ - smut, post-apocalypse, pre-Ellie, age gap (mid/late 20s!reader x early 40s!Joel), first time, loss of virginity, fingering, oral (f!receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it kids), Joel Miller has a big dick, risky creampie, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, manhandling, angst, implications of rape (does not involve reader or Joel), soft!Joel, fluff, idiots in love, innocence kink, Joel Miller is down bad. - minors do not interact.

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: Sometimes when I look into your eyes, I pretend you're mine, all the damn time

Joel had found you cowering in the corner of a store in some godforsaken town somewhere in deep Texas, the twitching body of an infected splayed in front of you. He’d eyed you cautiously, keeping his distance, gun pointed directly at you, not afraid to pull the trigger. 

“No, please, no. I’m okay, I’m fine, not bitten. I promise. Please” you were frantic, begging for your life. 

“Just the one?” He’d asked, voice gruff and dark, he exuded danger. 

You nodded “It was out the back, I checked but I didn’t see it, then it just came out of nowhere”

He nods once “You alone?” 

“Yeah, it’s just me” you hadn’t moved from your spot on the floor, hands raised in surrender, shaking in fear.  

“Christ” the man mutters more to himself than to you, giving you the once over he lowers the gun “C’mon, I’m not leaving you here” 

Your time together was meant to be brief, Joel had planned to find you somewhere safe to stay, people you could live your life with, some sense of normality. Life would never be like it was before the outbreak but maybe he could find you a new version of living. 

It took two months to find the first group of settlers but Joel didn’t even let you near them, he’d checked them out alone, swiftly deciding it wasn’t a safe place for you, he didn’t say why. Another six months until the next group, they initially seemed better but the cries echoing outside the commune at night told Joel all he needed to know. 

It’s been exactly 2 years since he found you in that abandoned store, you’d managed to survive for six months, barely, living in a constant state of fight or flight. And then Joel came, Joel who took a chance on you, who shared his supplies and taught you to survive. Joel, who stood watch and let you sleep despite being exhausted himself, who bandaged your wounds, and made his own life harder just to make yours a little bit easier. 

Joel, who would watch the world burn just to make sure you were safe. 

You could still to this day, pinpoint the exact moment you fell in love with Joel Miller. You watched the world burn. Well not the world, just a decrepit cabin on the side of a road somewhere in Texas. He'd thought it was safe, he’d checked and double checked, the place was free of infected, or so he thought. The thick knit of your scarf was the first thing that saved your life that night, when the infected had come at you from behind, jumping out of the dark and going for your neck.  Joel hadn’t even hesitated, gun drawn and a bullet in its skull before you could even cry out for help. He’d reached for you, entwining his fingers with yours as he dragged you out of the building, kicking the cap off a gas canister as he went and throwing a lighter behind him as the door had shut. He pushed you ahead of him, protecting your body from the flames licking at the dry timber frame behind him.  

You realised you loved him, were in love with him, laying on the dusty ground, with Joel’s imposing body shielded yours. You felt safe, he was firm behind you, chest heaving with laboured breaths, arms wrapped around you, keeping you close, muttering softly into your ear, “it’s okay, it’s okay, I got ya”.

So by the time you came across the third group you’d become quite the survivor. Joel had taught you to defend yourself, how to shoot a gun, how to actually use a knife, the weak spots of a man. You’d wondered why he was teaching you this, why you needed to know how to break the grasp of hands around your throat, how to use his body weight against him. When you’d stumbled across a group of men, animals really, surrounding a woman on her knees, her sobs echoed in your ears and you’d immediately searched for Joel, hands shaking as you grasped at his arms, eyes wide and terrified, you finally understood.

“They… they. Shit Joel, they were…”  He didn’t need you to finish, he knew what they were doing. Within 20 minutes he had you both packed and on the road. 

You felt like you’d been walking for weeks, in reality it had only been three days but you were exhausted. You were heading East, Joel had heard about a group of women that had settled just across the state border. You trudged slowly behind Joel, the unseasonable heat making you sweat, boots kicking up dust with every step, lost in your own thoughts.

“What’s bugging you?” Joel’s voice pulled you from your thoughts

“We should’ve helped her,” you confessed.  It didn’t sit right, that you just left her there for those men to take what they wanted

“There’s nothing we could’ve done, no guarantee she’d be safe in the next place” he’d explained softly 

“Is that why you’ve not left me?” The question slips from your lips before you can stop it.

Joel stops, his eyes meet yours but he doesn’t answer, he can’t, can’t admit that he won’t leave you, can’t admit why he won’t leave you. He can’t admit that he loves you.

Darkness has fallen by the time you reach a safe house, a favour from a friend, he’d said. The house was neat, tidy and clean, if not a bit dusty. Joel clears downstairs first, checks upstairs and calls you up to the bedroom.  A small puff of dust is released from the bed as he drops your bags. One bed. There’s two of you and more than one bedroom, but you know he won’t let you out of his sight. He won’t risk it. 

“Joel?” you croak, voice trembling as you sit on the end of the bed.

“Hmm?” He’s stood by the dresser opposite the bed, removing his jacket and boots. 

“I… there’s something- uhh, shit” you pause, taking a shaky breath “listen, please don’t make a big deal of this but I want you to fuck me” 

“Darlin’, I’m not gonna do that” he responds almost immediately, doesn’t give himself time to even think about it, doesn’t let himself indulge in the possibility. 

Not that he’s not thought about it, God knows he has. He’s wanted you, wanted to feel your lips on his, feel your nails claw at his back as he takes you. But you never gave any indication you wanted it too, so he stayed respectful, well, as respectful as he could. There’d been nights he’d fisted his cock, your name a whisper on his lips as he came into his hand, while your sleeping body lay just inches away.

“Please” you barely whisper, he goes to speak, to reject you again, but you cut him off,  “Joel, please. I don’t- I want it to be you, I don’t want it to be like that” your eyes are pleading, silently begging “please” 

“You’ve not…? There’s not been anyone?” He asks tentatively, hoping he’s misunderstood, that you’re not actually asking that of him, he crosses the room, sitting next to you on the end of the bed. 

“I’ve been kinda busy, what with the end of the world and all that” you try and make a joke but it falls flat, sobering, shining a light on all the ways your life has been taken away from you, all the experiences you’ve missed out on. 

It shouldn’t be him, he knows it shouldn’t, he’s so much older, he’s cruel and ruthless and angry. You deserve something else, soft, gentle, loving. He can’t give you that. 

But if he doesn’t, if he says no and doesn’t do this for you, there’s no guarantee the next guy is going to love you, no guarantee that he won’t hurt you. For Joel, that decides it, he can’t give you what you deserve but he can give you something better than what’s out there. 

Cautious fingers on his leg startle him out of his thoughts, “Just once, just this once” His agreement doesn’t soothe you, it ignites something, butterflies rolling in your belly; you want this. 

You’d seen other men on your travels, the way they treated women, both good and bad. You’d thought, naively, that Joel might be like that too, that Joel might take you to his bed, fuck himself into you then roll over, pretend it never happened. But he never did, always respectful, barely ever touching you unless he had to, you’d shared beds, and bandaged each other up, but he’d never touched, never taken it further. “All right?” He nudges when you don’t respond

You nod tightly and whisper a “thank you”, sitting quietly in awkward silence, you don’t know what to do next, you’ve read books, you knew how to do this before but you didn’t know how to deal with an arrangement like this. 

Joel breaks the silence first “Do you want to… tonight or would you rather w-?”

“Tonight,” your response is a bit quick and Joel huffs an almost laugh “tonight is good”  

You don’t know how to phrase ‘lets just get it over and done with’ when you’re about to fuck someone for the first time. He stands then, grabbing something from his bag then dropping it to the floor. Liquid sloshes as Joel brings the flask to his lips, drawing in three times, brow furrowed. He hands the  flask to you “Drink” and the look in his eyes tells you not to question him. 

You take a sip and nearly retch, the taste burning your throat and nose, eyes watering. You hadn’t liked whiskey much before and while it’s rare to find anything else these days, you still hadn’t got used to the taste. You take another sip, stomaching this one better. You hold the flask back out to Joel and he takes another drag before placing it on the dresser with slightly more force than he meant.

In two steps he’s back across the room, his hands finding your face, calloused fingers dragging along the skin of your jaw, bringing you to meet his lips. The kiss is bruising and feverish, hot lips pressing to yours, he licks into your mouth and you moan, it’s sinful and sweet and Joel wants more. He wants to pull more pretty noises from you, wants to hear you scream his name. His cock responds eagerly, hardening in his jeans, he’s not felt desire like this in years, it’s burning through his blood, overwhelming his senses. 

Joel stands between your legs, tilting your chin up, bringing a knee to rest on the mattress between your thighs. One of his large hands moves to support your neck, the other tracing the line of your throat, gripping gently. The kiss has grown sloppy, Joel is breathing hard, nipping at your lips. His knee between your legs moves to press into your clothed core and despite the layers of fabric you can feel the heat of his thick thigh, your hips roll, chasing more pleasure and a groan escapes your throat unexpectedly. 

Joel’s hand drops from your throat, following the neckline of your shirt, down between your breasts, flicking the buttons open, exposing you to the humid air. He pushes the flannel off your shoulders, taking the straps of your bra with it, reaching behind you to unclasp it, inwardly pleased he managed the first try.   

You slide your hands to his waist, dragging his shirt with you, brushing your fingers across bare skin. Your fingers trace the waistband of his jeans but he reaches for your hands, wrapping a large hand around your wrists he pushes you flat, pinning your arms above your head. The other hand joins his knee between your legs, fingers teasing the seam of your jeans. 

“You asked me to fuck you,” he pulls a nipple into his mouth, teeth nibbling at the sensitive bud “n’ I will” It may have been a while but it’s really just second nature to him and he feels you shiver beneath him “gonna make you feel good darlin’”

“Joel” Your throat is dry and your voice cracks but it’s enough, his hands reach for the button of your jeans, working them down your legs while his mouth assaults your breasts. You can’t focus, it’s too much, his mouth, hands, the feel of his body, large and imposing over yours. He finally gets your jeans off, discarding them to the floor.

You reach for him, finding the buttons of his shirt, tugging gently but making your intentions clear, he allows your trembling fingers to fumble with the buttons for a minute before helping you, making quick work of the buttons, all but ripping the shirt down his arms, throwing it to the floor behind him before positioning himself between your thighs.

Joel’s hand runs up your outer thigh, fingers digging into the flesh of your bum. He trails kisses over your skin, behind your ear, down your jaw, across each of your breasts, fingers playing with the nipple neglected by his mouth. He moves his head down your exposed torso, tongue tasting the salty sweat on your skin you gasp softly as he reaches the waistband of your underwear, black lace, a little luxury that makes you feel pretty and feminine. He nudges the fabric with his nose, breath ghosting over your skin and you shiver, 

“You don’t have to” you whisper into the darkness.

A soft “yeah I do” is mumbled into your skin. He makes quick work of removing your underwear, dragging the lace down your legs and dropping them to the floor in a rather obscene gesture.

His mouth is back on your hips working his way to nuzzle at your folds, leaving open mouthed kisses and grazes of his teeth on your skin. His hands press against the back of your thighs, pushing your knees up to your chest, spreading you wide. Joel’s eyes roll back in his head at the sight of you, pussy glistening in the dim light, the low growl that sounds in his chest shakes the bed and it takes all his restraint to take it slow, make it good for you. 

“This all for me?” He rubs his thumb through your folds, gathering your wetness and spreading it up to your clit, circling the little bundle. You look down at him between your spread thighs and nod. 

The sound you make when Joel flattens his tongue and licks a stripe up your cunt is unholy, and when he flicks his tongue against your clit you can’t help the way a hand reaches for his hair and tugs, nor can you help the sharp cry of his name. 

Languid, is the word you’d use to describe the way Joel works at your cunt. Long, slow, lazy circles around your swollen clit, soft passes over the entrance to your cunt, not giving you more than that for what feels like hours. You catch on, quite quickly, that this is as much for Joel as it is for you, and you think he might be enjoying it the most.  

Joel hums around your clit, sucking it into his mouth, and the arch of your back is violent, a stark contrast to Joel’s gentle movements, biting down on the fleshy part of your thumb to muffle your scream. 

“Don’t do that” a hand reaches up in the dark to pull your fist from your mouth, “wanna hear you” his breath is hot against your core, tongue lapping at you like a man starved. 

You’re hot, skin prickly with a layer of sweat, hips rolling, pushing your soaked pussy into Joel’s face, your clit catching on his nose as he teases your entrance with his tongue. 

“Jo-el” your voice is whiny to your own ears and your face heats at the sound “more, please more” 

Joel lets out a hum at your request, bringing two thick fingers to slide into you and already you feel the intoxicating spark of your orgasm approaching. Your cunt clenches around his fingers and the feeling shoots straight to his cock. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you breathe, your grip in his hair painful even to you.  “Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum, Joel”

You’re so close that when Joel crooks his fingers and continues his assault on your clit, your orgasm tears through you. You stiffen, hissing a “Yesss”through gritted teeth, hands clawing at the sheets and Joel’s hair.

“‘Atta girl” he coos around your clit “tha’s it baby” The sound of Joel’s voice is muffled by the ringing in your ears and when you open your eyes all you can see is stars, flashes of white clouding your vision. 

Sensing his movement, you open your eyes and when they’ve adjusted to the darkness again, you can see the burly outline of Joel kneeling between your legs, his eyes drag down your body, fingers of his left hand gently caressing the bend of your knee. You sit up, reaching for his belt, tugging at the buckle. Joel watches as you pull his belt free, fingers ghosting over his length confined in the denim as you pull down the zip. 

When your fingers dip inside to grasp him he can’t stop the choked “fuck” that escapes his throat. Pulling him free of his boxers, your jaw drops at the size, fuck he’s thick, so thick, and swaying heavily between his legs, dripping with precum. With hesitant fingers you run the pad of your thumb down his slit, smearing the fluid, stopping to rub your thumb on the underside of his head. Joel can’t help the jerky twitch of his hips at the stimulation. You take that as a positive, repeating the action once, twice more, before calloused hands still your movements. You look up to Joel, confusion clear on your face. 

“Won’t last if you keep that up” Joel explains, his voice a whisper, vulnerability evident even in his low tone. 

You release his length from your grasp, bringing your thumb coated in his arousal to your mouth, sucking tentatively. You don’t notice Joel watching you through hooded eyes, but he makes quick work of his jeans and boxers, kicking the offending fabric off as quick as his aching bones will let him.  

Experienced hands lift your legs to hook over his hips as he settles himself between your thighs again. You can feel the thick length of Joel’s cock pressed firmly against you, sliding through the wetness left by his mouth and your orgasm as he ruts against you. It takes the entirety of Joel’s willpower to not fuck into you, coming back to himself, he remembers why he’s doing this. 

“Gotta tell me if y’need to stop” he slurs against your temple and he feels you nod as he presses a soft kiss to your clammy skin. Joel rests the heavy weight of his cock against your entrance, running the head between your folds, bumping your clit and soaking himself with your wetness. He presses himself in to your tight heat and you feel like you’re being split open, wincing at the burn “I know, ‘m sorry darlin’, it won’t hurt for long promise”   

Joel pushes your sweat-damp hair out of your face, big hands cupping your face, open mouth dragging against yours. He tries to distract you with wet kisses to your jaw but when he pushes himself deeper you cry out, hands flying to claw at his hips, stopping him from moving any further. 

“We can stop” Joel mutters into your open mouth but you give a quick shake of your head 

“No. I’m okay, I’ll be okay” The feeling is foreign, neither his fingers or tongue could’ve prepared you for the stretch of his cock, nor the desperate ache that settled deep inside you, the one you know only Joel can satisfy. 

You can feel him throbbing inside you, and it’s taking everything in him to hold still

“Eyes on me darlin’” Joel orders as he pries your hand off his hip, entwines his fingers with yours, and pins your hand to the mattress. Your eyes meet through the darkness and there’s a softness in Joel’s eyes you wish you could bottle and keep.

You tense up in anticipation of Joel’s next movement, squeezing your cunt around Joel’s cock

“Fuckin’ Christ  darlin’, y’gotta relax, just relax” you will your body to relax, to release the squeezing of your core, “that’s it, doin’ so good, you’re doin’ so good. Takin me so well” and yes, you keen at his praise, the throb of arousal in your stretched cunt is heavenly and Joel takes your moment of distraction to sink the rest of his length into you. 

“Fuck” you whimper, the sharp stretch shocks you, eyes widening.

He shudders a breath above you, “‘m sorry, ‘m so sorry”

“So big Joel. ‘T  hurts” you practically sob and the sound breaks his heart in ways he didn’t expect. Joel breaks eye contact first, fixing his eyes on where you’re currently impaled on his cock. He moves to pull out but you tighten your thighs, keeping him still “No, don’t. Don’t wanna stop. Just give me a minute” you close your eyes and breath in deep through your nose, letting a shaky breath out. 

“Touch yourself,” Joel orders, bringing your hand still clutching his to his mouth, wetting your fingers with his tongue before pressing your fingers against your clit “‘t’ll make you feel better” 

You obey, stroking your bundle of nerves, still sensitive from your previous orgasm “that feel good?” He asks as you tighten involuntarily around him. 

“Yes,” you pause for a moment, continuing to stroke at your clit. Warmth blooms under your fingers, arousal spreading through your body, loosening your muscles, the discomfort subsides, leaving behind a different kind of ache “can you move? Please” 

The way you ask him, with your pleases and thank yous, still so polite despite the harsh world you live in, it’s innocent and sweet, and he loves it. It activates something primal in him, some deep desire to protect you, to please you. To pleasure you. 

Joel settles his knees wide on the mattress, pulling his cock from your depths before pushing back in slowly, when you don’t stop him he repeats the action. “shit darlin’, so fuckin’ tight”, and he’s not wrong, the girth of his cock is stretching you in ways you’ve never been before, you can feel every vein, every ridge, every goddamn fucking inch as he works himself in and out of you. It’s steady, controlled, almost gentle, the way he rolls his hips, leaving enough space between you for your fingers to continue working your clit, not that you need the distraction anymore. 

He could cum right there, your aching cunt absolute bliss around him. The whine that leaves your throat is of pleasure not pain and the tightness in his chest borders on uncomfortable. He’s done this before, he’s experienced, he’s had women screaming his name but nothing compares to the breathy sound of his name leaving your lips. You’re so sweet, eyes fluttering, fingers ghosting across the skin of his hips, the softness of his belly, the firm muscles of his chest and his broad shoulders. 

You could pretend, wrapped up in Joel like this, that it’s not the end of the world, that this comfy bed in this nicely decorated house is yours and Joel’s. You pretend, just for a minute, as he’s fucking himself into you, that he’s yours. Your hands reaching to wrap around his back, nails scratching at the muscles working beneath the skin, it’s intimate.

You feel his pace falter, “‘m close darlin’” he mumbles into the thick air above you, “fuck, y’gotta come for me baby, come on” it sounds like he’s begging and you find that you quite like the sound of Joel begging, especially when he’s begging you to cum for him.  

He can see you’re close, legs twitching, breathing heavy, he can feel the tell-tale flutters in your cunt and he knows “what d’ya need?” He pants, chasing your high, no care or regard for his own anymore, he just wants you to get there. 

“Joel, I need mo-” he drives himself into you deeper, tilting his hips to rub his cock against your sweet spot. With fluttering eyes and heaving chest you whine a tight “that’s it” fingers working furiously at your clit, hips rocking down as you meet his thrusts “Joel, yes” you groan, the sound reverberating in your chest. 

He feels your cunt squeeze him “tha’s it, good girl”, he needs to stop or he’ll cum but you don’t care, continuing to rock your hips, thrusting down forcefully against him, cock reaching deeper than you thought possible and you tense, muttering a “fuck” as you cum hard around him. You can’t comprehend that this is what it feels like, the violent quivering of your muscles, tight and squeezing. Fuck, you don’t want to let this feeling go, Joel’s cock buried so deep inside you it hurts, you never want to cum without this ever again. 

Joel gives a few tight thrusts, “Shit, what a sight” He has to pull out, he can’t cum inside you, can’t take the risk but the rhythmic pulsing of your walls is dragging him kicking and screaming to the edge.  You let out a breathy “inside Joel, inside,” the way you say his name sends a shiver down his spine, but the way you moan the softest “please” has him cumming, cock twitching violently, hips rocking, pushing his release deeper. 

His mouth meets yours roughly, ragged groans escaping between harsh kisses as he continues to pump inside you. He can’t remember the last time he came this hard, beyond satisfied and completely drained but he still can’t break his lips from yours. The kiss is soft now, tender and lazy, something close to loving. His sweaty weight above you is grounding, bringing you back to reality. 

Joel groans and drops his forehead to your chest, cock still buried deep you can sense his reluctance to part from you, you tangle your fingers in his hair, allowing him to rest against you. He stays for a minute or two before groaning, aging knees and shoulders protesting as he hovers over you. 

He moves slowly, dragging his softening cock out from your over sensitive heat and you moan low in the back of your throat as he disappears, returning from the en-suite with a damp towel, 

“There’s warm water” he mumbles as he wipes the towel gently between your legs. You hum contentedly, your tired body drowsy and dopamine drunk. You briefly think about the long hot shower you’re going to take in the morning when the bed dips next to you and Joel reaches for you, rolling you into his side, your head on his chest. If you had more energy you’d say something but the gentle caress of Joel’s thumb behind your ear and the slow thump of his heartbeat quickly has your eyes closing and your breath steadying. 

“Was that” Joel pauses, what, good? All right? Just okay? he thinks it’ll kill him if it was bad for you

“Good, it was good” you offer him a soft smile “thank you” 

“Christ darlin’ so fuckin’ polite” he can feel himself stirring again beneath the sheets, and fuck he’s depraved, he’s convinced you could make him cum just by saying please. 

Joel must think you’re asleep and you feel it more than you hear it, his whispered admission of “love you” spoken into your hair as he presses soft kisses to the top of your head. 

𝐉𝐎𝐄𝐋 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

[fraugwinska]

Hiya Guys - Anyone up to read a fic I wrote to battle my little writers block? :> I know jack shit about Alchemy, so I drew a lot of my references and ideas from FMA - But I've already planned for a second part, and thanks to the lovely @impale-me-radio-daddy I have some good pointers and sources to dip my toes in more into the mechanics of Readers ability! ;> Until then: Have fun with this!

"Again, thanks, but no thanks, Carmilla. The whole 'overlord'-thing isn't my cup of tea."

The demon in front of you sighed, closing her eyes for a moment - maybe to not appear as aggravated as you knew she was. Carmilla Carmine has hounded you to join the other big players of Pride who called themselves overlords and acted like they were above everyone else. But you had no intentions or aspirations to mingle among the power-greedy wannabes and parochial moguls, as you told her - in much more diplomatic words - multiple times. The fact that she hadn't tried to force you into compliance only spoke about the power you held, almost wasted on you. Almost.

"I really think it would be...", Camilla started again, but your patience had run thin.

"...beneficial for all involved. It's like a broken record player at this point, no offense. And I hope you'll finally take my 'No' as an answer - Cross my heart, you'll be the first person to know if I change my mind." The warning tone in your voice and you standing up from the chair opposite to her office desk made her give you a sharp, cautious look, but she retreated.

"I understand. I won't press you on the matter anymore." She said, tactically calm, and raised her hands in surrender.

You just nodded her a courteous goodbye and exited her office, chin high as you walked down the corridors of her headquarters and out into the streets of the city. Hell was always busy, but the afternoons were the worst - everyone tried to do their last errands before nightlife took over Pentagram City and people weren't out for shopping or dinner, but for cheap and easy fucks or fights. A little kid - a cannibal child by the looks of its pitch-black eyes and sharp, pointed teeth - ran into you, preoccupied with its popsicle that looked too much like a tongue for your taste. Its mother, horrified, stammered apologies and pulled it hastily away, eager to get in some distance to you. You smiled at them - it may have looked a little malicious to them, although you meant it as genuine. But you knew she knew you were her. The one they called the Alchemist.

You made your way through the parting crowds, just wandering around. You had nothing to do really, and you generally enjoyed just walking through the city you've come to know for only a year. It didn't take long after your fall to get you the infamous name - Only the Radio Demon Alastor rivaled you in the speed you climbed up in the hierarchy of Hell. Tales were told, some true, some heavily exaggerated, some utterly ridiculous. Have you disintegrated demons into their very elemental parts? Yes you had. Have you taken out a whole district because you were catcalled? Not quite, you did that because those bastards from Mayhem Square decided to raid your laboratory and sprayed very vulgar and disgusting things on the walls after they destroyed your latest experiment. Have you sacrificed your loving family in exchange for the ultimate knowledge in alchemy before you died? Definitely not.

You laughed softly about the rumors. What loving family had been there to sacrifice to begin with? You were a war orphan. Abandoned and alone, only taken into a makeshift home and earning your living by signing up for human experiments when you were old enough to be smarter than just steal from abandoned crops and trash cans. If someone ever wondered if one could inject radioactive waste into a person and what the outcome would be, they would've found their answer in your blood and cells - a pinch of insanity, a lack of empathy and painful hallucinations. In exchange for your years of help and your resilience, you were offered a university tuition. You quickly took to science, studying biology, chemistry and, outside of the curriculum, alchemy. To the very last day, you wished you'd studied physics just to finally figure out the universal gravitation formula.

Your career had ended very shortly after your graduation, when you came back to work in the very same lab you've come to be tortured as a teen. But now you were the one experimenting on desperate souls that no one would miss. The only set rule you wouldn’t deviate on: No experiments on children. One of your subjects, overtaken by the pain your hands caused, had gone mental and stabbed you with the syringe you've used on them. Stabbed you many, many, many times. A fitting death, you thought. Your next time awaking, it wasn't with the sight of the tiled, sterile laboratory, but the busy street you just walked on. 

It had been a throwback to your childhood, really. No home, no one you knew, no money. But now you had your power. And OH, what a power it was, effortless and gloriously embedded in your being. Paired with your absence of empathic feelings you quickly gained souls under your belt. Mostly lower-rank and no-name-demons, you left them intact, unless your scientific curiosity got the best of you.

Of course the Radio Demon had sensed the birth of another powerful sinner right below his nose and you had the displeasure to meet him not even a month after arriving. While Carmilla seemed to have the strong aspiration to have you among her fellow Overlords, Alastor's ambition went in a completely different direction. First he wanted to be sly and get you under contract, and when you laughed in his face, well... he wanted to consume you and your power, rip you limb from limb and put an end to your existence.

Alas, you were way too powerful for his liking. The moment his claws sunk into you, the moment he would break a limb and rend flesh, the wound was closed up and the bone repaired. You weren't just good at disintegrating - the principle of equal exchange applied to rearrangement and repair too. His conjured voodoo-minions fell apart into cloth, ash and thread at your will, and his ego took more than just one hit that you resisted, that you held your stance, didn't even move out of his way but buried your feet deeper into the ground with a cold smile on your face - that you were equally as powerful as him. If not a little more. Time and time again your paths crossed. Where Alastor was Entertainment, you were Rationality. Where he was Chaos, you were Order. He was looking for the end of his boredom, you for the ultimate knowledge. His smile a facade to hide his frustrations, your stone cold face a facade to hide the joy you felt with every missed blow from him. You were attracting opposites, the only overlap was your shared egocentrism - You knew he believed himself above you. And he knew you thought the same about yourself to him.

So that's why Carmilla was trying to convince you to join the overpowered. So you would change from an unpredictable threat to those hot-shots into a controllable part of them. What a shame, truly, that power was never something you aimed for. Your only ambition was to further your knowledge about existence, about the nature surrounding you, about yourself. You craved understanding and finding order in the chaos. Especially since Hell was the ultimate chaos.

Your thoughts came to a halt when you suddenly felt a strange sensation. You were just walking past the outskirts of the Cannibal Colony to round (and avoid) the Doomsday District to make your way back home, but now something had drawn your attention. A sixth sense, a force, an itch at the back of your head. Electricity was in the air, and you only had time to rearrange the particles of dust and debris around you into a makeshift shield when a black tentacle burst from the ground and smashed it into pieces. When the cloud of dust around you settled and you coughed, you were met with the sight of Alastor in the middle of the street, his smile as wide as ever.

"Normal people go for a courteous 'Hello', you know.", you stated and straightened yourself.

"Ah, but my darling, you and I both know we are not normal. Or people." Another tentacle darts at you from behind, its tip sharpened like a spear, but you were quick to dodge and let the appendage crash into a digital advertisement for VoxTech newest useless and frivol products. The screen flickered for a moment before returning to its previous content, but the damage was already done - the pole was bent and the screen had a hole in the upper-left corner. You turned back to Alastor, giving him a displeased glare.

"What is your issue with me today? Do I wear the wrong shoes? Maybe my hairdo isn't to your liking? You seem to be a little more... enthusiastic than usual. And not in a good way."

The Radio Demon twists his cane in his hands with a sneer, his burning, narrowed eyes not leaving you as you crossed your arms in boredom and tapped your foot.

"The issue on hand, my dear, is that you encroach onto my territory yet again. How about this: A final fight, you and I. The winner gets to decide if the loser is eaten alive or is granted a merciful death."

"Huh. You sound like you've had a really bad day."

With the flick of your wrist, you rearrange the ground beneath him, shifting solid stone and concrete into sticky bitumen and tar. You can't hide the grin when he struggles to stay upright, his polished shoes glued to the spot, but his smile doesn't falter. If anything, it widens.

"I take this as a yes, then."

Before you can even think of a comeback, your view is obscured by a swarm of his minions. They're coming at you from all sides, claws outstretched and snarling. With a roll of your eyes and a wave of your hand, you let them fall apart into their basic elements, pieces of stained cloths and clouds of foul smelling ashes falling all around you. Alastor's grin is as wide as ever and you see the telltale glow of his power around him - and before you can even blink, he's right in front of you, his shoes still sticking in the viscous black matter where he formerly stood, his claws reaching for your neck, your head. You feel his razor-sharp fingertips scraping the skin of your throat, not deep enough to really do any damage, but still droplets of your neon green blood dripping from the cuts. With a grunt you grab him by the lapels of his coat and throw him over and above your head, and while he flies through the air, his laughter echoes through the streets. He's having fun, you know that. But deep down inside... so are you.

"Your back alley voodoo tricks are getting a bit repetitive, Alastor. At least make it interesting."

He lands a few feet away, gracefully like an antelope on his bare hooves, and the static of his laugh sends shivers down your spine.

"Who am I to deny a dying lady her last wish?"

His shadow detached from his body, the pitch-black entity’s teal grin a stark contrast to his red, glowing eyes, the wickedly growing antlers and his pale skin. The immaterial monster opened its maw wide with a deafening screech, and it shot forward at blinding speed. You finally moved, darting away from the shade as it swished towards you - it almost looked like a morbid ballet as you avoided as much contact with the ground as you were able to, frantically thinking of what his shadows are made of so you could destroy it. He had never stooped down to use it in your fights, and you knew that they had to be more than just abscence of light, as sentient as it was. The basis of Alchemy was simple: You can't form something out of nothing, but if you knew the compounds, you were able to rearrange, dispatch or destroy almost anything. You tried to buy yourself more time to think by another high jump into the air, only to hear Alastors static next to your ear, a hand wrapping around your waist with a grip that was intended to hurt and another on your chin, holding your face in place. Your instincts told you to twist under and out of his grasp, to rearrange your skin into something harder to prevent his claws from tearing into you, but find yourself unable to move. A hiss from below you makes your eyes dart to Alastors shadow - it has your own in an iron grip, holding it hostage in its black claws.

"Is that interesting enough for you, darling?", the demon above you purrs into your ear, but the question was unnecessary, answered in his laughter and his ironclad hold of you, your body pressed against his, arms frozen mid air and useless like a marionette without it's player. His hold around you is painful - it would crush a lesser demon easily, but luckily, you weren't lesser. And you still could, even without the usage of your hands, will your side he pierced with his talons to at least harden enough with the iron you drew from your blood so he couldn't tear you apart that easily.

"It's certainly interesting that you have to resort to gagging my shadow to subdue me."

The words were all but pressed through your gritted teeth. You knew you wouldn't be able to escape at this point. This part of his magic, his shadowmagic, was one of the only things you practically knew nothing about. And lack of knowledge, as usual, meant lack of power. In this case - the power to get out, to flee and regroup.

The touch on your waist disappeared for a second before appearing again, stronger now and accompanied with a pain shooting from where his fingers had dug themselves into the weak metallic coat underneath your skin. You hated the quiet whimper your body unwillingly let out at the sting, reminiscent of the scalpels that were used on you many times, so long ago. He chuckled, deep and guttural right below your ear before leaning his head down to your eye-level.

"Subdue you? Oh, no, no, no my sweet Alchemist. This fight is over, as you are well aware and I'm pleased to say that at last, I am the one victorious. The deal was the choice between eating the other alive or granting a merciful death. I just have yet to decide what option to choose."

He releases his claws from your jaw and rakes his nails down your neck and collarbone, his face inches away from yours, red eyes glowing even brighter and his smile that reached his ears with open delight as his claws tear deeper and deeper into you, his static now drowning out the sounds of your pained gasps as darkness grew from the ground, encasing you.

"I... really hate you, you know?", was the only thing you could bring yourself to hiss. His snicker was dark, malicious and infuriatingly cocky.

"Oh darling. I hate you more." And then it all went dark.

You opened your eyes. A blank, charcoal canvas stretched as far as the eye can see. A monochrome dimension for monochrome creatures. Everything had a certain damp feeling to it - the air, the atmosphere, even your own skin felt slick, damp and oily to the touch. Freezing. Unfamiliar and strange.

"Where are we?"

You still felt Alastor’s long fingers holding you in place, but the pain was gone, replaced by a burning heat where he pressed your back into his chest, a stark contrast to the coldness of the air surrounding you. Clean air. You felt no specs of dirt, dust or carbon on your tongue, the air tasted neutral and smelled void, the flavor almost painful in your throat.

"This, my dear, is a little pocket dimension I've crafted. To be specific - it's the one I've crafted the moment I met you."

Your eyebrows arched up, and his shadow let yours tilt your head just enough so you could see his face and his overly excited grin. His words struck a chord and the penny dropped - He, in his deluded mindset of superiority, had anticipated this day to come ever since your first encounter. This wasn't just a spur of the moment, he had planned this, crafted a punishment for the - to him - inevitable scenario that one day he'd finally get his comeuppance. Where he'd finally beat you. Planned to get you here to destroy you.

"It's not very... showy, considering it's created by Hells Greatest Showman himself." Your voice betrayed you. You wanted to sound bored, neutral, indifferent - but every syllable dripped with hidden defeat. Alastor had purposely created a place that you couldn't decipher, that held nothing you could use to defend yourself.

"Au contraire, darling. I think this is the most appropriate stage for our final performance."

His voice was dark, low, and vibrated from the bottom of his chest. His breath was hot and wet on the nape of your neck and the tips of his fingers on your chin burned. You could feel his excitement reverberating through his body. He was looking forward to this. To eradicate you. You closed your eyes. Rationality told you there was no use in defiance.

"So, Alastor. What's it gonna be? Are you a man of your word or aren't you going to kill me the way you've promised? What was it? Eat me alive or make it a merciful death?", you asked, but the only reply was his grip around you tightening and his teeth sinking into the crook of your neck. It was a pain so sharp and yet so tender that it made you almost moan. A pathetic whimper escaped your throat, and you hated how you could feel his lips on your skin curl into a smirk.

"My poor, little alchemist. I thought you, as a woman of science, knew that one has to define the terms you work with."

His fangs grazed the soft flesh of your neck, his tongue leaving a wet trail along the bite marks they had left. A shiver ran down your spine and your skin broke out in goosebumps. The grip on your jaw tightened and he tilted your head to the side, exposing your throat to him even more.

"Killing is just one mundane interpretation of our deal. There is more than one way to eat you while you breathe, my dear, and as for a merciful death... well..." His hand left your waist, wandered down over your hips to the hem of your pants and slid beneath. "... the meaning of that will depend on how this plays out."

The tips of his claws dragged over your underwear and your back arched, subconsciously pressing yourself against his broad chest as much as his shadow allowed it. He chuckled darkly at the reaction he drew from you, his fingers rubbing your core through the fabric, and your eyes fell shut in furious pleasure. You were unable to stop the whimpers and quiet moans that came from you, and he laughed at every sound he forced from you.

You understood the principles of biology and chemistry enough to understand why your body reacted the way it did to his touch. Hormones released, muscles tensed, senses sharpened, brain focused - and all that with one purpose. Carnality. Sexuality. Lust.

You understood the social components : Alastor, despite his infuriating personality, was a powerful and attractive demon. He was a sight for sore eyes and a feast for the hungry ones - you maybe lacked empathy, but you weren't blind.

What you didn't understand was that, despite your deep dislike you felt for the Radio Demon, despite the many times you've fought each other and how he's tried to erase you multiple times - your emotions were telling you that you craved his touch, wanted what he was threatening to do, what he was implying with his words and emphasizing with his actions, his hands working themselves towards your slicked heat and with his lips still on your throat.

And the worst thing was, he knew.

He could sense it, probably even taste it, in the scent of your arousal and the taste of the sweat on your skin. He could read it in your body language, how you subconsciously tried to move against his fingers, how your body melted into his when his teeth scraped over your collarbone and your breath hitched when he sunk them deep into the soft flesh of your neck once more.

The force behind his jaws was sharp and without any mercy, but it only lasted for a moment until it became deliciously soft and firm, his lips soothing your tormented skin after the beast within had taken its fill of your blood just as he breached the last physical barrier of your underwear and dipped two of his digits into you. He forced a soundless sigh from your lungs with the way his fingertips caressed you, igniting a feeling inside you didn't know you could feel.

The satisfaction you got from giving and receiving physical pleasures up until this point mostly to serve your biological needs, impersonal. The connection that existed between partners was short-lived and never personal, almost medical, with the barest minimum of any physical contact necessary, just enough so the mechanics of your hellish body came to the desired effect of pressure release to let you focus on more important matters.

But with Alastor, with his mouth still feasting on the sensitive, marked flesh at your nape and his dexterous fingers working between your thighs, nothing of what was happening was impersonal. Medical. There was no need - But want. A craving desire that arose like a hot flame deep inside you, making the pleasure you were given intensify and left you almost in a frenzy, to try and get more of it. A feeling almost animalistic, something raw and purely instinctual that you wanted to prolong instead of getting it over with.

There was no logic to the way your body reacted, no formula you could apply to ease your frustration at the way he touched you - he played your body like he knew it by heart, a strange turn of events. While you seemed so illogical in your behavior, he was strangely tactical. You were frantic, he was calculating. Every touch, lick and nibble was done with an intended purpose. And in return your reactions to it were completely without rhyme or reason. You couldn't stop the moans spilling from you as he dragged his long fingers in and out of you in an agonizing speed, the pad of his thumb teasingly rubbing over the little nub hidden between your folds, your hips were moving on their own, in sync with his movements as much as they his shadow's grip on yours granted you.

"I... don't t-think...", you gasped with another cruel flick of his thumb against your sore clit, "...you can c-count that as.. e-eating."

To your frustration his motions did slow down, the thrusts and motions he drew from you fading, the tension within building so painfully inside of you, uncoiling so suddenly just to be denied. His chuckle rumbled in his chest and he retreated his lips and teeth from your throat.

"I'm nothing but a connoisseur, darling - one has to prepare and season his meal properly in order to feast."

The sudden loss of contact made you whine in your throat as his hands withdrew, from your wetness as well as your neck and chin. The air felt even colder against your heated skin now, and you shivered when your limbs suddenly contorted, were rearranged by ghostly hands. From the corners of your eyes you could see Alastors shadow force yours into something of a bridge position, back arched, arms bound over its head and legs spread - and through the unexplainable connection between you both, your body followed, having no other choice but to obey what the immaterial shapes dictated.

Alastor stood aside, waiting, watching intently as your trousers were pulled messily down your legs by invisible claws, revealing the soft skin hidden beneath. They dragged the fabric over the swell of your hips, under your rear and over your thighs. For a few agonizing seconds everything was still, the monochromatic world around you in perfect silence, the only visible life your panting breath and Alastors everlasting static. When the last bit of fabric left your body and you were completely bare, he stepped in between your legs, raking his claws over the inside of your thighs before coming to a rest on your hip bones. He looked smug, he looked manic, and most of all he looked hungry. His tongue swiped his sharp teeth, coating them with thick, dark saliva, and you shuddered with a mixture of humiliation and anticipation alike.

"Well now, I think it's time to dig in, right dear? Especially since the table's so nicely set and all."

The impact of his burning mouth on your dripping sex was beyond the comprehension of words, all your synapsis concentrated at the singular sensation of the demon below you working his jaw with gusto and enthusiasm only a cannibal like him could, teeth and tongue and lips unabashed and unapologetic in their efforts to elicit sounds from you that bordered on the screams he loved to broadcast. You could feel him smiling at each and every breathless moan he wrenched from you, you could feel his cold red eyes burning holes into you as he kept eyeing you from below, tongue buried to the root in you, his claws pressing painfully into your flesh in a vice-like grip, threatening to break and rip at the soft skin when you tried to suppress the mewls in an effort to deny him his self-righteous satisfaction.

"Darling, I know you're normally the one who takes others apart - but I just have to wonder what you will look like undone."

You were pushed even closer, even more at his mercy as he forcefully shoved his face deeper between your legs, his black, twisted antlers piercing into your stomach, leaving dainty puncture wounds that stung and begand to trickle with your blood. Your breathing became more desperate with each minute, more keening and so much harder to keep steady - when one of his dexterous hands joined his mouth between your legs and curled the long digits deep inside you in search for the certain bundle of nerves - located an inch inside the vaginal opening, on the upper vaginal wall - that his skilled tongue had neglected so far. Your mind went blank and your whines became constant, unchecked and vocalized so much louder when he found what so many demons (and humans, if you were honest) thought to be a myth - the Grafenberg spot.

He hummed in self-satisfaction as you moaned shamelessly now as he rubbed and probed, curling, stroking, doing everything at once with his fingers on the spot while his mouth worked at your sensitive clit above, suckling hard, bordering on painful licking and even biting. You struggled in the immaterial grasp of his shadow, wriggling on his mouth, the intense, uncontrollable, uncontrolled and unrivaled sensations sparking from your core leaving you desperate for release, for any kind of relief, the pressure of it building so unbelievably fast in you, his movements, the vibrating static and his quiet laughter sending you towards a feeling that you knew, once experienced, wouldn't leave again. You hated that you loved what he was doing, hated that he was able to do what so many others had failed to, that your mind was consumed by pure, undulated desire for the damn Radio Demon as he - in a twisted sense of your own profession -destroyed and rebuilt you simultaneously with the same kind of unceremoniously fervent frivolity that was oh-so-characteristic for him.

Your eyes fell shut, a vocal and shuddering breath escaping you as you felt your end coming nearer and nearer, every flick of his tongue and every slight graze of his teeth were a thousand-fold amplified and yet purposefully too little to finally grant you the relief you yearned for so badly, to put out the element of fire within that threatened to burn you alive.

"Alastor... Please...", you managed between breaths. The words felt sour and sticky on your tongue, but you knew he was waiting for them. You had never begged for something before. Not for mercy when some of the researchers went over the limits of their set experiments on you. Not for recognition when papers you wrote were released in your colleagues name. Not for your life when the thick needle in the hand of the deranged patient rose to the sky, ready to strike. But for Alastor, you begged. 

Your plea earned you a victorious glare and another harsh suck on your swollen nub that made you cry out in pleasure and pain. With a last stroke of his tongue in tandem with his fingers against the exact right spot and a firm flick to your clit, your climax felt like you were falling apart into particles and atoms, crumbling around the mouth of your arch-rival. He had been right. Definition was everything, one of the rare things the Alchemist and the Radio Demon could agree on - He promised death, and that's what he gave you: A metaphorical one, devastating, humiliating and everything but merciful. Each spasm was a shovel burying your pride, each sob as he licked you through the ebbing waves of your high a eulogy for the respect you had for yourself. But this death, as disgraceful as it was, was pure bliss, was what ascencion must feel like.

Your body was slowly released from its restraints, feeling heavier than it should as you were dropped unceremoniously to the ground, and you closed your eyes again, feeling oddly empty when he removed his mouth and fingers and stood up to his full height, towering above you. You didn't even struggle even though your limbs were free now, just sighed and turned your head to look up and face Alastor as you heard the clicks of his heels next to your face.

He looked disheveled and wild - a mess of tousled red hair entangled in sharp antlers and sticking messily onto his sweaty forehead, the corners of his mouth glistening with your fluids and his blackened eyes alight with mischief. You could see the outlines of a massive erection through his strained pants, a small consolation that the ordeal he had put you both through hadn't been above his biology too. But before you wasn't the jovial trickster that all of Pride knew and feared, and it wasn't the tactical torturer that had worked you over the edge of your emotions either. This was the animal, the demon within, the monster hell made out of a man in its essence - limbs cracked and elongated, spine twisted and curved, aura dark and almost glowing in green. And it was stunningly beautiful. It was such an incongruous appearance, contrasting his normally smooth, proper and almost human demeanor so much that it might become your new definition of a paradox.

His hand suddenly went behind your head and roughly grabbed you by your hair and dragged your head up, just enough so he could bend on his waist to be on eye-level with you. It stung beautifully at the roots, and you hissed at the delicious pain as you met his gaze.

"Th͑an͊k y͈͝o͔̲͒u̧ͥ f̌͌or̬ t̜ͦhe̬ͯͅ m͉̋ȩ̞͙al,͍ l̵̅͝it͓͙ͤt͘lè̍ A̰̞l̇c̭̙̕h̏̒emis̏͑t." 

His voice was distorted and thick, it sounded sticky and heavy and even unhinged. For a moment, you saw his wish to bite you, to tear into your jugular and finally dismember you reflected in his ticking eyes. And in that moment, defying all logic and instincts, you would’ve let him do it. But the strike didn’t come, and the moment faded, along with his monstrous form. He shifted back to the demon you knew, hair still out of place but expression a mask again, a play, a facade. But there was a strange conflict behind his smile, a weird furrow in his cocked brows.

“I believe with that the deal is fulfilled.”

Alastor snapped his hands, and you fell, through darkness and light, fire and water and earth and wind swirling around you until you hit concrete ground. Quickly stumbling to your feet, you blinked. You were dressed again, back in Pentagram City, back at the exact spot where you turned the corner just before...

You whipped your head around, but the Radio Demon was nowhere to be found. The street before you was empty, car horns and gunshots and bomb explosions filling the air coming from the Doomsday District. For a moment you panicked - had it been just another one of your hallucinations? You thought you had left this special side effect of your brain behind in the living world, but you were smart enough to consider the chances of possibility. It would explain everything. Your hand snapped to your neck - no lacerations, no bite marks. Contradictory evidence. It didn’t mean that it hadn’t happened, but it increased the likelihood of the perceived experience being just your brain playing its cruel tricks on you. Just like it did now, flooding your nerves with a faint feeling of... disappointment.

You shook your head and sighed, turning on your heels to continue your walk home. When you put your hands in the pockets of your lab coat, a wrinkled piece of paper brushed your palm. Confused, you pulled it out and unfolded it, your eyes widening as you read it with a gasp that got stuck halfway in your throat.

Until next time, my dear. And if you ever crave more, there is always a table set for you. A.

It read in an obnoxiously neat, cursive handwriting. In a hue of crimson red.

[librarycards]

pls ignore this is its too weird or too much labor, but i was wondering if you maybe had any tips or resources for ppl who have creative desires like writing but brain fog and fatigue tends to get in the way?

i do! it may not work for you bc people have very random/unexpected ways of dealing with this, but it's *very* common and there is hope :) [i think a lot of this is applicable across form, but i'm using "writing" here because it's what i'm familiar with]

one way is to be strategic about timing: this includes thinking about when you're least foggy/have the most energy, and/or the most "downtime" where there isn't anything in particular you need to do. many people wake up early so that they have alone time before their responsibilities. some people stay up late to write. i tend to do my daily writing (which I elucidate on below) in the evenings, around 7-10pm. whatever works, works!

relatedly: scheduling/routine is, for me, critical. i think it is for a lot of creative ppl. I write every day, in multiple ways: i keep a journal - i've done this since i was like 12, so it's as ingrained as brushing my teeth and i don't really think about it - and also work on some aspect of my current longest project [so, for the last 4 years, it's been the aforementioned second novel; for the 4ish years before that, it was Failure to Comply. i write other stuff during the daytime, of course, because writing is also my job(s). but if you're looking to establish a consistent creative practice, you don't need to be aiming for a certain hour or word count.

Instead: Aim for consistency and progress. Not perfection, not a "muse," not magic. There is no shame in making something that doesn't seem good, or that you end up deleting. in this particular instance, "perfect is the enemy of good" is 10000% true, and i think especially applicable to people who already experience external + internalized ableist ideologies on a daily basis. your art, regardless of what it is, should be a space where you get to make mistakes, change your mind, and learn new things. it should be something you can come to when you're tired, unsure, confused, scared, etc, even if it means just keysmashing and then closing your notes app for the day.

for me, having a daily practice, regardless of anything, means embracing the days where i write only one word and then despair, as well as the days i write pages. when i feel most depressed, in a very clinicized sense, i try to move from "everything i make now is going to be shitty :(" to "everything i make now is going to be shitty :)", not because i'm happy about it, but because....that's simply part of creating. everything is a bodily function. if you're not feeling good, maybe your poop will look weird. so too with writing. but you still do it. it can be mechanical. but it'll happen, and by doing it consistently, you give yourself the *opportunity* to locate insight hitherto buried, to have an idea creep up on your tiredself.

i guess in sum I'd say that the healthiest thing i ever did for my writing is something tantamount to body neutrality, which has also been an immensely positive addition to my set of frameworks for physical embodimindment. creative neutrality, i guess. this doesn't mean i don't tie my ego and personhood to work/productivity/quality. i mean, i totally do, and it sucks, but there we are. but it also means that i place that in a corner that does not touch my desire to chip away at something big, regularly. i make time every day to summon the urgency of whatever i'm working on, not because i'm proud of it at that moment, but because i want to give it another opportunity to give me something cool.

tl:dr: give yourself the gift of consistency and time, and don't be scared of making stuff that isn't good, or gets deleted, or doesn't make sense. write from wherever you want, physically, mentally, spiritually. give it the opportunity & even the expectation to happen and then work from there.

[drawing-prompt-s]

GoFundMe: Getting the kitten to the vet...

for a rabies shot, FIV testing, and a possible upper respiratory infection!

So someone sent in the last $305 I needed while I was asleep. I'm transferring it to my account now which means I'm a) shutting off the GFM as soon as the transfers process and b) taking in the kitten as soon as the money becomes available to me - so likely by Friday I'll take her in, or Saturday or Monday (they do half days Saturday, and are closed Monday).

GoFundMe Link Paypal Link

Venmo Link Cashapp Link

Multiple payment options available because I am typically asked for alternatives to GFM and PP.

$350 / $350

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INFORMATION + VIDEO UNDER THE CUT!

From the GoFundMe description:

Hello!

So, unplanned, there is a new kitten in the house as of Feb. 22, 2024. (Not Jolene's, she is fixed). When at my friend's house - where I will be moving in a few months - we found out that a cat that comes to visit often is not only owned, but a mom. However, the neighbor doesn't want the kittens, so he always puts them outside and leaves them there. I could no, in my right mind, leave the kitten outside by a trashcan and under a tire in February of all months, so I brought her home.

So far I have treated her for hookworms, given her the vaccines I can do myself, and looked into getting a spay voucher from one of the local shelters. The kitten is roughly 3 months old.

However, current concerns are that she may have an upper respiratory infection (and there is always the concern that she could be FIV+). She has an inflamed eye with a regular and concerning amount of discharge and has for a few days. I have also caught her sneezing and she has started coughing on more than a few occasions. She also has a few other signs of sickness - anemia, the runs, and some blood spotted in it. If it is a URI, I need to catch it as fast as possible because I also have Jolene, my 3 year old cat. She absolutely also needs FIV testing and a rabies shot because of that, and because where we are moving there are other cats.

Jolene and the kitten have both been getting along well. The kitten loves to follow her around and Jolene acts more like the disgruntled big sister (don't let her fool you, I have caught them playing regularly - she just needs her alone adult time too).

I have already altered a bit of my projected finances and removed money from my savings to care for the kitten and help her. But there is only so far that can go as I also need to be able to afford gas, food, and furniture for the upcoming move (I'm going to start buying things soon so I can put it together and move my stuff prior to the official move date). I was trying to put off a full vet visit until sending the kitten in for a spay, but with her eye and the possibility of infection spreading to other cats, it can no longer wait.

I am shutting off this GFM as soon as I reach the goal. The vet said to budget for a little more than $300, between the base cost of a visit, FIV testing, rabies, and potential treatment for an Upper Respiratory Infection- assuming it's nothing too major. And I added a little more to what I am expecting because GFM does take a fee from donations.

If the kitten does end up being FIV+ we do have rehoming options available or I will find someone better suited to handle an FIV+ cat (either already having one of their own or a home with no pets).

I tried to take a video of the eye, but as you can imagine, a 3 month old kitten isn't the most keen on staying still, haha.

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Let me add in the breakdown as well, now that I think about it:

Base cost for my vet to see a new cat (even as a pre-established client with other cats treated there): $100

FIV testing: $40

Rabies (and other vaccines I may be missing I was unable to do myself): $35 - $45

And the vet recommended budgeting about $100 for medications depending on what they find (if she still has worms, if she has other parasites due to being outside untreated, if she has a URI like the current concern is): $100

The rest is tax, the % upcharge for using a card, and to negate the fees that GFM with-drawls from each donation.