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yeonjuns-beanie · 5 months ago

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Blasphemous Rumours

Warnings: 18+, smut, hierophilia, sacrilegious acts, priest kink, fucking on an altar, suggestive themes in a confessional, riding a rosary(?...), hair pulling, biting, light blood play, exhibitionism, suggestive themes during mass, probably smth else but i don’t remember. nothing too crazy🧌. im debating on linking the playlist i wrote this to, but it would kinda get rid of the anonymity of this account…. ~nero :)

Father Paul Hill x female!reader

Word Count: 6.3k

You hated this fuckin ferry.

You loved your family but you never understood why they never left that island. When you found your way out you left without a second thought. Vowing to never settle here again but that didn’t mean you’d never visit your family. Usually for the holidays you made your way back out here, but this time you just had a break in your schedule and wanted to visit. Wanting to visit didn’t trump the hatred you had for riding this fucking ferry though.

To be completely honest you didn’t hate the ride itself but rather how the journey made you smell like a feeding bucket at Seaworld. The evening sun was gracing you with its last bit of warmth as it began to tuck itself behind the horizon. Against the cool mist of the water for a split moment, you almost understood the appeal of this lifestyle.

Almost.

The ferry pulled up to the dock and your eyes fell on the shoreline meeting some abandoned nets and dried out seaweed. The seagulls' mews echoed as you exited the boat. Grabbing your bags you took a deep breath as your feet hit the sand and you began the trek up to your family home.

Nothings changed.

It’s been years and everything still looked the same. The houses, the people, hell even the smells were the same. It was uncanny. You saw the church in the distance and were relieved knowing that you could finally lay your bags down soon. As you passed the church your eyes landed on a relatively young man standing outside, a warm smile welcoming anyone that passed by. Styx-colored locks, a slender frame, and a face that looked ever so familiar. Pressing your lips together in a close-lipped smile and waved at him making a mental note to speak to him later.

Your family’s house was only two doors down from the church and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t excited to see them. Knocking on the front door you eagerly waited to see who would see your face first.

“Coming!”

You heard faintly from the other side and you were greeted by the face of your mother.

“Y/n! Oh, honey, it’s so good to see you!”

She embraced you immediately, nearly squeezing the life out of you.

“Hi, Mom.” You chuckled

Over her shoulder, you saw your little sister, Briar, smirking at you trying her best not to laugh at your current situation. Your mom pulled you into the house motioning for you to come eat dinner as you arrived just in time.

“Please, come eat. We’ll worry about your bags later. You came just in time to go to mass with us after.”

Mass? Why so late?

“Mass? Did you guys miss it this morning or something?”

Washing your hands you turned around to face your family as you dried them. Before you sat down at the table your dad came from around the corner physically interjecting himself into the conversation as your mom spoke.

“No, they happen—hi dear, they happen in the evening now. A new priest has been filling in for the Monsignor. Apparently, while he left for his trip to Jerusalem he fell terribly ill. Such a shame. But Father Paul is phenomenal! I think you’ll like him.”

Your mom looked at you with a knowing smile and you knew exactly what she was teasing you about. You rolled your lips around your teeth and began to eat, swallowing a sly comment.

After you guys finished dinner, you fixed yourself for mass. Although you weren’t religious on your own time, you did it for your family while you were here. Plus, it allowed you time to wrestle with your feelings with Christ to see if it really wasn’t for you. Your relationship with God or whoever was out there was complicated. Wildly complicated. You knew in your heart that you were a formal sinner yet you lacked the guilt that should’ve come with that.

If anything, you relished in it. You loved being entangled with the feeling of sin, it made you feel alive. You felt so strangled as a kid with religion, as if every move you made was under scrutiny so when you found the courage to separate yourself, you may have overindulged in things that were impious in nature.

Just as you were this evening, clad in a low-cut tank top, a hoodie, jeans, and slip-on Vans. If you felt you didn’t belong in Crockett before, you definitely visually fit the part now. Looking like a complete foreigner in comparison to everyone else. You screamed city. From your clothes, and makeup, even down to the way you spoke. You tried your best to eradicate every trace of Crockett when you left but there was one thing you couldn’t scrub away.

God.

God always found a way to squirm His way around your brain and tether you to this island.

“Y/n! You ready, honey?”

“Yeah!”

Spraying yourself with a light perfume you walked out into the front room where your family was waiting for you. Filing out the door, the walk to the church was quick which was something you despised as a kid and you could feel those same feelings bubbling up as you neared its entrance. It was as if God was mocking you, knowing that you had such an internal feud with whether or not you believed, what was right and wrong, and if you even had a sliver of faith left within you.

Sitting down in the pews next to your family, you felt at home once the incense filled your nose. The strange feeling of comfort washing over you as memories of your childhood flashed in front of you. The tottering organ that was moments away from wood decay, the massive crucifix in the center arch of the back of the church, and the haunting glow from the warm ambient lighting had you questioning yourself once again. You swallowed the thought, deciding that nostalgic comfort was weighing out your need for logic.

You were pulled from your thoughts as everyone around you rose to your feet and the chimes of the bell echoed through the building. It was at this point that you realized how many people were stuffed into the pews. Mass was never like this as a kid.

He’s either the hottest thing known to man or he’s sent from God himself.

Anticipation settled in your stomach and you fought the smile that was begging to stretch your lips. You needed to know what it was. Maybe he was just a really good preacher, and you were being facetious–or maybe you just walked into the next Jim Jones story. Either way, your eyes were glued to the hallway counting the seconds to the procession.

As everyone around you opened their book of hymns you were fixated on the white robe that exited the side door. You didn’t recognize either of the altar boys and for a brief moment, you wondered where the last two poor bastards ran off to. But then your eyes fell on his. His stark black hair wasn’t as neat as it was earlier today when you were walking through town. A few pieces in the front dangled over his right eyebrow and his head was bowed slightly as he walked through the pews.

Your mind was pulled away from fully taking in the man as you were distracted by how full the church sounded. When you were younger the hymns always sounded so hollow and weak, but tonight it resembled a traditional mass. Savoring the moment of repose you felt, you found it within you to appreciate the music resonating through the building finding it somewhat odd that they were singing a hymn that sounded so haunting.

At His feet the six-winged seraph, cherubim with sleepless eye~

Your attention drifted back to the priest where he kneeled at the steps and then bowed his head at the altar. When his head raised to stare out across the pews you felt your eyes widen slightly at the sight of him. Your mom nudged your side, smirking when you turned to look at her.

“Told you.”

You shoved your tongue in your cheek, swiping it across your teeth as you sat back down. Mass went by in a blink considering you were completely engrossed in the man in front of you rather than his preaching. At some point, you completely tuned out his biblical orations and resorted to the simple pleasures of imagining him and yourself in various scenarios in the church.

In the pews, across the altar, across the altar with the front door open waiting for Beverly to waltz through, in the confessio-

“Honey, come. I want you to meet Father Paul.”

Your mom tapped you on your shoulder pushing you out of your trance of thoughts. Standing up, you smoothed out your top and took a deep breath in an attempt to shake out the tension in your shoulders you most certainly built up during your daydreaming. Walking out of the church you wondered why you were leaving if she wanted you to meet the man. You turned around and noticed that he was no longer at the altar either. Stepping out to the front, your questions were soon answered as a smooth voice sounded from behind you.

“I see we have a new face in town.”

Your mother butt in before you had a chance to speak for yourself. Laying her hand across the small of your back introducing you to the man you just spent the better half of an hour fantasizing about.

“For a little bit, we do, yes! This is my daughter, y/n. She usually comes around for the holidays but we got lucky this time around. This used to be her home until about two years ago.”

You stuck your hand out, Father Paul grabbing yours with a firm grip and you couldn’t help the compulsion to stare at his hand for a moment before quickly finding your mind and smiling at him.

“Nice of you to step in for the Monsignor. My mom told me you’re his stand-in for the time being.”

“Yes. I apologize seeing as I’m not who you expected, but I assure you he’s on the road to recovery.”

As Father Paul spoke, you couldn’t quite place why he looked and felt so familiar. You were running through files of how you could’ve possibly known him but nothing was coming out concrete.

“Oh! No need to apologize. I quite enjoyed your sermon, it was very similar to what I was used to growing up here. It’s as if he never left.”

You chuckled out your last sentence and suddenly nerves found themselves coursing through your body as you maintained eye contact. You were committing his face to memory. Whether it be for personal reasons in the dead of night or to try and figure out where you knew him from. You’d wrestle with that later. Right now, you were just hoping that you weren’t being painfully obvious.

You were.

You were bordering a fine line of staring and eye-fucking him that your mother and sister were finding absolute humor in. Your eyes flickered back and forth between his clerical collar and his face trying to shake the thoughts that were circling their way around your head.

“Well, I’m glad that I feel so familiar to you. I hope to see more of you during your time here with us.”

He smiled at you with such sincerity you forgot about all the lust brewing for a second. His face held so many emotions but you couldn’t place any of them.

“You will.”

You smiled back at him, your eyes holding something a little more heavy though. You were aware of the priesthood’s celibacy and something about knowing you couldn’t have him made the feeling that more intense. Although, you didn’t miss how it seemed the feeling was reciprocated while you looked at him. Father Paul spoke, breaking the silence that you two created.

“Well, it was very nice to meet the rest of your family, Mrs. L/N, but I am afraid that I have some matters to tend to back in my rectory. You all have a very nice night.”

His gaze lingered as he spoke, giving you the same treatment as you did moments before and it was making you squirm on the inside. His gaze was soft but so intense and the contrariety of it left your mind racing. While you and your family said a choir of goodbyes, you watched Father Paul walk away as your family made the way back to the house. Your sister spoke up, whipping you from your thoughts.

“At this point, you should just tell him you want to fuck him.”

Both of your parents exclaimed your sister’s name in shock but the two of you were left laughing.

“Oh come on, I wasn’t that bad.”

“Y/n, you might as well have been sucking his fingers in front of us.”

As you guys walked back into the house your mom snickered as you genuinely asked for her opinion.

“Was I being that obvious about it?”

She paused.

“You could be…less obvious about it.”

You groaned in embarrassment rushing straight to your room to avoid any teasing for the night.

“Goodnight!”

~*~

You couldn’t sleep. You opened your phone to check the time knowing full well that it was the middle of the night. You just wanted to see how late it was.

3:33.

Shit.

You let out an exasperated sigh wiping your hand across your face. It was usually at this point in the night that your hand found its way in between your pajama pants and gently glided itself across your sensitive floret. Your hips jolted forward at the contact and as soon as that sensation spread through your body, images of Father Paul flickered in your mind. As your finger circled over your clit you found yourself reaching your climax faster than usual. As your orgasm flooded through your limbs, your chest heaved for air trying to calm the euphoria running through your veins.

Pulling your hand from under the sheets, you let your arm drape across your eyes grappling with what you just did. But before you could really identify the problem with your actions, sleep weighed heavily on your eyelids.

When you woke up, your middle of the night scandal was the first thing on your mind.

How am I gonna look at him again?

A string of questions ran through your mind leaving you mentally scattered but as you got ready for the day and saw your sister in the main room, it left the front of your mind.

“Morning.”

“Morning. You gonna go to church today?”

You shot your sister a look that was a mixture of embarrassment and a playful knowing. You two erupted into a fit of giggles that ended with you looking at her out of the corner of your eye.

“Maybe.”

She watched you, impressed by your honesty, and nodded her head. Taking a sip of her drink she spoke through her swallow making her voice a little gummy.

“Your best chances of seeing him are in the evening. For some reason, he’s stopped coming out in the day. Probably to avoid Bev. That woman would sew herself to his hip if she could.”

“Bev was up the Monsignor’s ass too, nothing out of the ordinary. I’ve never seen someone try to get so close to fucking God.”

You both were laughing until you saw your mother emerge from the hallway and you halted the sound in your throats.

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh, nothing. Just givin’ Bev shit for being Bev.”

Your mom laughed through her nose and shook her head at your antics and you were preparing for a small lecture.

“So I take it you’ll be heading to the church tonight y/n? Typically we only go on Sundays now but I’m sure Father Paul would be ecstatic to see one of us a little more often.”

Your family took great pride in taking the piss out of you and to be completely fair you made it quite easy. You rolled your eyes at your mother because even she knew you had lost touch with your faith, but now you had reason to find it–maybe.

“I wasn’t planning on it but since Briar and now you have both greeted me with the question maybe I will. Build some rapport with the man.”

“We both know you’d wanna build something more than rapport with him.” Briar chimed in.

“I literally can’t even! You know…with him. It’s against their whole code. Don’t think I forgot. But also they like should come up with a code to not have hot priests, I’m just sayin.”

They both just hummed in agreement still silently giving you shit.

“You guys are terrible.” You laughed.

~*~

You had all day to conjure up a scheme of how you’d find a way to get close to Father Paul and you finally decided on a plan while you were getting ready.

Confession.

Technically you didn’t need a priest for confession but it’d be nice to have someone listen while you were in the box. Everyone separated into their rooms for the day and you hoped that was still the case when you stepped out of the house.

“Skirt’s a little long isn’t it.”

You didn’t expect Briar to be sitting in the main room so her voice spooked you before you registered her words.

“Yeah, but I think the side slits balance out the potential prude.”

You shoved your leg out to the side showing off how the slit in the maxi skirt stopped at the middle of your thigh. Paired with a fairly tight black long sleeve and chunky boots, you were bordering on looking like a mortician. In your mind, being clad in all black hid not only you, but your true intentions from being so visible. The last thing you needed was being sniffed out through a choice of clothing, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t hopeful for an interaction.

“I’ll be back.”

“Be safe.” Briar snickered

Stepping out into the cool night air, you were thankful to feel something other than the emotional heat from your family. It immediately soothed your nerves and you found yourself focusing more on your plan. With the church doors open, you noticed you saw nobody walking in and when you walked up the steps you were surprised to see the pews empty. It felt like you were intruding, like a fly buzzing around a dinner table. Your footsteps echoed in the empty building and you felt an overwhelming feeling to run out and forget about this elaborate plan. To sacrifice your need for affection and carnal satisfaction for a walk across the shoreline or to the general store. Just something else.

Your eyes panned over to the confession box and you were wrestling with your gut feeling to stay. Maybe you should confess and get it off your chest…just not with him there. With disquieted uncertainty overcoming you, you took a step back to exit the church deciding that you’d come back another day, but when you expected your body to glide through the air, you stumbled into something solid instead. Whipping your body around you apologized profusely.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I was spaced out and didn’t hear anybody behind me I’m so-”

And then you paused. As your eyes traveled up to meet the person you stumbled into your eyes caught the clerical collar. It was like a bullet lodged itself into your chest and you felt your limbs begin to grow cold from shock. You knew who lied above that collar and you had to find the guts to look at him in the eye.

“It’s no trouble at all. Are you alright? You seem pretty startled.”

Father Paul placed his hand on your shoulder looking down at you with genuine concern. You made the mistake of looking at him directly in the eye and you wished you didn’t. His deep brown eyes furrowed under his brow waiting for your response but you were entranced by him. Stuttering when you found your voice.

“I, uh, yeah. I’m fine. I just was in my head about something.”

Father Paul cocked his head slightly trying to figure out where to step with you. He narrowed his eyes for a moment and flickered back and forth between you and the confessional box.

“I noticed you were quite focused on the confessional, were you looking to confess this evening, y/n?”

You panicked. Backed in a corner, your mouth moved faster than your brain. It was too late before you could register the words flying out of your mouth.

“Well, yes and no. I’ve been quite separated from my faith as of late but I’ve been struggling with…some intense internal issues that can’t be ignored now. I’m not sure if confession would make it better or worse and that’s why I was so engrossed in it.”

“Well. We’re here now. If you’re comfortable, I can lead you through it.”

You were hesitant. You worried that in your current state, you’d divulge too much, but maybe that’s exactly what you needed to do. To just get it all out of your system and bear the humiliation. You looked at him one last time and it was as if he was waiting for your compliance. He may as well have been extending his hand out to lead you to it. Closing your eyes and accepting this as a fated moment you inhaled a deep breath and nodded.

“Okay.”

Walking to the confessional, you got down on your knees, folded your hands in front of your mouth, and exhaled a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. You looked through the latticed opening and made out a few of Father Paul’s features. A feeling began to pool in your stomach as you realized the dynamic of the situation you were in. Your mind swiftly moved into the gutter wishing you were on your knees for a different reason.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned–and will continue to do so.”

You paused deciding one last time if you were going to bear all your bones here. Swallowing your pride, like a gun sounding the start of a race, you relieved yourself with zero guilt.

“Being separated from my faith has left me in a deeply sacrilegious state. For the most part, I can ignore my thoughts, my taboo interests but since I stepped foot back on this island it's all come bubbling back up.”

You looked to see if Father Paul was looking at you but he stared straight ahead giving you his complete focus to your confession.

“I find, grave desire in things I shouldn’t. Sexual hunger that I can’t displace somewhere else because I know the only reason it brews within me is because I know it’s wrong. Father, these feelings came back to the surface when I laid my eyes on you during Mass. I couldn’t help it. The feeling that pooled in the depths of my stomach and left me aching for something more. Forgive me, Father, for my boldness, but I fear that the only way I can feel relief is to…release.”

You felt your breath quicken at how honest you were being but it was soon replaced by the feeling of of excitement.

“I know it’s wrong but I…I can’t stop the feeling. This is all I can say, I’m sorry for my sins.”

Silence.

You felt like you sat in silence for an eternity waiting to hear his voice echo to your side, but you didn’t. Instead, you heard the pace of his breathing. You almost confused it for your own but you held your breath trying to calm your nerves and still it echoed.

“Father…I. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said any-”

“Y/n. Come to the other side.

As you rose to your feet, you heard the door on his side of the confessional click open. When you stood in front of the door, it was the first time this evening you found the courage to look him directly in the eye. There was a dastardly hunger swimming in his brown eyes. Like a predator stalking his prey, his aura was intense and left you frozen in front of him awaiting his command. His eyebrow slightly cocked upward and his hand raised, coaxing you towards him. You followed, pausing before you stepped inside his side of the box but he coaxed you forward with his voice so smooth and alluring. With little room, you were left to slot yourself in between his legs.

Your breath hitched as you looked at him again and he patted his thigh with his hand that was wrapped in a rosary. Clenching around nothing, you made the swift decision to close his legs and straddle them instead of taking his knee. Letting your hands rest on his shoulders you stared him down. Nothing but salacity was radiating between your bodies and quickly you began to feel your desire rise into your face. Searching his eyes for any indication of his feelings you opened your mouth to speak but he occupied the silence before you.

“I wondered if, you would find the courage to be truthful and I must say I’m struck by your honesty.”

Your heart nearly stopped.

You fucked this up, bad.

“Father, I-”

“No need for any apologies. I’m glad you were so honest.”

“You…you are?”

“Lying is a sin, so yes. But it relieves me of my own prurient conscience so that I may indulge in you free of guilt.”

You weren’t paying attention to the movement of his body due to being so focused on his words, but when his words were punctuated with the rolling of his rosary-clad finger across your cloth-covered center, you were made very aware. Your cunt clenched around nothing and your body lurched forward unintentionally writhing over his hand. Your breath came out in shutters and your eyes, now hooded with lust, gazed into his own in a frenzy.

His fingers kept gently teasing your bud through your panties and you couldn’t help the compulsion to ride in tandem with his movements. The beads of the rosary gifted you an unknown kind of pleasure that you knew would afflict your mind for the rest of time. It was a feeling that was near indescribable but the pleasure was too good to deny. You rested your head on his forehead, gripping onto his shoulders for some type of leverage. You bit the corner of your lip in an effort to silence yourself, but your ragged breathing was near that of an incensed bull.

“If you did a better job of controlling yourself yesterday, I may have been fooled by your sheepish nature, but you just couldn’t quell this desire on your own, could you? You went home to seek some satisfaction but you found none, so you came here to plague me instead. Praying that I’d fix this ache within you. Am I right y/n?”

You went to respond but Father Paul’s finger slipped past the barrier of your underwear, leaving you to feel your arousal be spread across your puffy petals. A moan escaped your throat and the way it echoed off the confessional walls into the church made you shrink into his body. A pathetic attempt to hide from your lechery. Father Paul hummed, urging you to speak as he sank two fingers into your honeyed garden. Catching your breath, you found your words.

“Y-yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Father~”

You brought your head up to look at him again, too dazed to even feel like this was real. As his fingers continued to roll themselves against your sweet spot, your breath quickened as your mouth stayed ajar looking for the courage somewhere in yourself to slot your lips against his. As he rolled his finger over your swollen bud, your body decided for you. Your lips danced in a sweat and lust-filled hysteria leaving your brain foggy with desire. You rolled your hips into his hand needing more of him and your sounds slowly increased in volume as you felt a bead of the rosary slide across your center. The feeling of the beads slightly grazing your sensitive lips brought you faster to the precipice of elation than you expected and you pathetically whined for your release.

“I’m, I’m close, Father.”

You expected him to speed up his ministrations, but instead, he removed his slick-ridden fingers from your garden and brought them up to his lips. As if his hand was dripping in myrrh, he sucked you off of his fingers and paused before he spoke. Ghosting his fingers across his lips, his tongue hesitantly licked the tips of them as he dragged his hand away from his face.

“If you’re going to be brought to rapture by my hand it will be done when all of me is inside of you.”

Father Paul motioned you to stand up and you staggered out of the confessional with him not far behind. He grabbed your hand and dragged you down the center of the church pews up to the altar. Ripping the white cloth off the altar, Father Paul held his hand out before sitting you down on the altar. He caressed his hands down the curves of your body before toying with the waistband of your skirt. Looking down at you, you saw the fervor swimming in his irises.

“My sweet lamb, is this alright?”

You nodded and he slotted himself in between your legs feeling his bulge at your center. Depraved and corpulent lust washed over your body and your fingers fumbled with his belt, unfastening it with haste. You looked up at him and his face was closer than you expected, the heat radiating off of your bodies leaving a mist of humidity between you. You palmed him through his jeans and an inviscerated moan crawled out of his throat. The sound urged your body to move faster, the need to have him inside of you becoming near unbearable.

He kissed you again, insatiable ardor all that you could taste. The feeling trickled down your body leaving goosebumps across your soft skin and a river seeping through the fabric of your panties that slowly painted the apex of your thighs. He tapped your thighs and you took it as a sign to lift your hips. In a swift motion, your skirt and underwear were left in a pool by the altar. Father Paul removed himself from his sweater, throwing it in the pile of sacrilegious cloths that served as a visual reminder of the desacralization that was about to take place. He left his button-up to cling to his chest and he moved his jeans and underwear down to the middle of his thighs, leaving him with his fervid cock on full display.

You kicked your boots off your feet, the thud echoing a little bit louder than you intended. With your feet now free from their confines, you wrapped your legs around Father Paul’s legs, bringing him as close as possible. Your hand slithered between your bodies and varnished the tip of his cock in your amatory nectar. Your moans harmonized in synchrony and you gazed into his lust-blown eyes seeing nothing but black and you were sure yours were the same. He asked silently one last time for consent and you nodded slightly before he entered you.

The stretch of his cock was something you felt only one could dream about. It filled you perfectly and you knew you wouldn’t last long. Your head dipped back in zeal, relishing in the feeling that was rushing in waves over your form. When your head tipped back up, your eyes met the enlarged crucifix that hung in the center of the back wall. For a reason unknown to you, locking eyes with Jesus as you desecrated His holy house made a pang of carnal hedonism tangle in your sexual daze.

Your hands webbed themselves in Father Paul’s hair gripping at his strands and pulling his face into the junction of your neck and shoulder, feeling his breath heat up your skin. You felt his mouth open and drag itself across the side of your neck. A slight chill graced the parts where his spit marked his territory. You felt his breathing get heavier and all of a sudden you felt his cock slip out of you and he picked you up from the altar, turning you around and kicking your feet into a perfect V shape. He bent your body over the altar and slowly pushed himself back into you, the new angle making you cry out in complete perverted passion.

His thrusts were deep and pointed making sure that you felt every inch of him drag in and out of your seraphic labyrinth. Just when you felt that the feeling couldn't get any more intense, his hand entangled itself into your hair and pulled your body up, flesh against his chest. His thrusts became rougher and you could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke.

“Feel good, my dove?”

You were fucking yourself back onto him, any coherent thought on the brink of leaving you amidst your ardent pleasure.

“S-so…so good, Father. Shit.”

You were running out of air, your body paying more attention to the dam that was about to burst within you.

“Better than your hand?”

“Uh-huh”

Your eyes were rolling back in pleasure and were hooded as you looked back at him. He gingerly guided your body back down to the altar and removed his hand from your hair, slowly tracing his hand down your back. Both of his hands grabbed your hips and the feeling had you crying out as his tip kissed your cervix. You felt his body lean over yours as he moved your hair away from your neck. His breath was sticking to your neck before a whisper ghosted over your ear.

“I’m sorry, but trust me right now.”

He licked from the base of your neck and then you felt him pierce your skin with his teeth. In your licentious stupor, you just moaned out at the contact not fully registering that his teeth were sinking into your flesh or the fact that footsteps were echoing through the church.

“Father, you weren’t in your rectory so I assumed this would be second best to find you-oh…”

Bev.

Her grating voice almost brought you out of your daze, but Father Paul resorted to slow, deep thrusts as he kept he kept sucking your neck. When he lifted his face from your neck you felt a warm liquid trickle down your skin and pool towards your collarbone before landing on the altar. You lifted your head, your body weak and wracked with pleasure. You could barely make eye contact with her as your eyes were so hooded but you heard her voice resonate through the building once more.

“Haresis Dea.”

Your head dropped unable to focus on her and your body rolled back into Father Paul’s, needing more of him as your orgasm was slowly fading back into your body. As you moved against him, his hips slowly began to thrust back into your sloppy cunt as Bev waited for some semblance of an explanation.

“God has chosen her. He has chosen to consecrate this union, this nocturnal metamorphosis with lascivious intent because she is the last piece. God has willed it this way and has chosen her.”

Father Paul bent down to lap at your neck again and his hips regained their momentum. You pushed yourself up from the altar and wrapped your arm around the back of his neck lapping at the blood that was dribbling down his chin.

“Very well.”

And you heard Bev’s footsteps walk out of the church, the main doors closing behind her. Father Paul picked you up again, turning your body back around to face him. There was a certain ferality that wasn’t in his features before that had you clenching around his cock. With the doors shut, you both let your moans reign loose, a salacious cacophony filling the air. Your eyes scaled up the wall again and you came face to face with Jesus as a pool of heated arousal settled in your lower stomach begging to be set free. Your head knocked back in avidity and you didn’t see him slice a small cut in his wrist.

When his thumb found your enflamed bud, you brought your head forward and he placed his bleeding wrist against your lips. As a wave of sexual delirium washed over you, your mouth hung open and he urged you to suck on his wrist. The metallic taste flooded over your tongue as your orgasm heightened your senses. Father Paul kept fucking you through your high until he reached his own, his cock painting your labyrinth a warm alabaster. He pulled his wrist away from you as you both were trying to calm down your breathing.

Both of your mouths now covered in a drying garnet hue, you found yourself pressing your lips against his once again, unable to satisfy this ache completely. He chuckled as you both pulled away.

“Easy, my dove.”

You nodded, placing your hands flat against his chest.

“Let’s get you dressed and then walk to the rectory, hmm?”

Licking your bottom lip and locking it behind your teeth, you nodded as you slowly made the return back to your body.

#priest kink #priest smut #father paul smut #father paul hill x reader #father paul hill smut #father paul x reader #father paul hill #midnight mass smut #midnight mass netflix #midnight mass imagine #monsignor pruitt #monsignor pruitt smut #monsignor pruitt x reader

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icycoldninja · 5 months ago

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Headcanon of Sparda men + Sephiroth helping reader who has bird like wings on their back to groom their wings pls pls pls 🙏🙏🙏

Sure, sure! Enjoy!

Sparda boys + Sephiroth x Winged!Reader headcannons

¤ Dante ¤

-Dante has wings in his SDT, yes, but they are scaled, not feathered.

-He's never seen a person with feathered wings before; he's used to the scraggly, knobbly wings of inferior demons, so it's only natural for him to be extremely curious.

-He's like an excited 4 year old, asking tons of questions, poking, prodding, tugging, and even sniffing at your wings.

-Eventually you get him to calm down and talk him through the process of cleaning and grooming your wings.

-Dante helps you get the places you can't reach, jabbering swwy excitedly as he does. This whole experience is so new, and he's in shock.

-He'll definitely want to help you again, and probably has another slew of questions for you.

■ Vergil ■

-Like Dante, Vergil is not used to seeing humans with beautiful, feathery wings like yours, and regards them with suspicion.

-He keeps away from you and your wings, as he's sure they are important to you. His surprise was monumental when he learned you wanted him to help you groom them.

-Vergil was very nervous handling your wings. They looked so delicate and fragile, as if they would snap in half if he handled them too roughly. He did next to nothing the entire time, worried he would hurt you.

-After a while, you grew a bit frustrated with how useless he was being and told him that your wings were as strong as, if not stronger than bone, and that they were very unlikely to break under his grip.

-With this reassurance, Vergil gripped your wings more tightly and wasn't afraid to snip away protruding feathers.

-Turns out, he had a lot of fun, and would definitely help you again sometime in the future, should you need him.

□ Nero □

-Nero vaguely remembered helping V groom Griffon's feathers a while back, but all he really did was hold the bird down.

-He wasn't sure what to do with a human who had giant feathery wings, but figured you would teach him.

-Nero is a fast learner who adapted quickly to the situation, picking up the techniques and following your directions quite well.

-He made plenty of wisecracks the entire time, too, commenting on how you're Hawkman/Hawkgirl or something like that.

-You guys had a lot of fun, and at the end of the day, your wings were smooth, neat, and squeaky clean.

-Nero wants to do it again, so the next time your wings need grooming, let him know.

● V ●

-V has had plenty of experience grooming Griffon's wings, so this is nothing new.

-He was surprisingly unsurprised when he saw your wings, acting as if a winged human was completely normal.

-He knows what he's doing and cleans up your wings very well, perhaps even better than you do.

-He also went on a long ramble about the best cleaning supplies for different kinds of feathers, encouraging you to go to the pet store and look for the ones he recommends.

-You agree and the two of you head to Petco the next day, spending the entire afternoon looking at feather cleaning products.

-You guys had fun; V is very competent and you are more than willing to listen to his advice. 10/10, you would let him do it again.

♡ Sephiroth ♡

-Now, Sephy over here is very experienced in the art of wing grooming because he has a giant wing himself.

-He thinks yours are beautiful, possibly better looking than his, and his perfectionist mind wishes he had the symmetry of two wings like you did.

-He's like a hair stylist, but for wings, knowing exactly what to do, where to do it, and why.

-Though normally very quiet, Sephiroth won't shut up while grooming your wings, yammering on about different techniques, explaining what he's doing, etc. He's only ever done this to himself, so finally having someone to share the experience with is life changing.

-You guys often groom each other's wings because it's fun, like your special version of self-care night.

-He loves helping you take care of your wings, and you love helping him take care of his. It's now a monthly tradition.

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vixensmart · 5 months ago

Text

La Squadra x Reader: Watching Your Drink

A/N: CW for drugging/slipping things into your drink.

Context: You and your S/O decide to go out for the night to a bar. For a moment, you excuse yourself and ask them to watch your drink while you're gone.

Risotto Nero

Risotto places his hand over your drink and pulls it closer to him. He knows he looks scary enough to deter any potential creeps from even thinking about slipping anything into your drink, but he's still vigilant. He's got a deadly stare going on, ensuring he intimidates anybody with ill intent from an attempt.

If anybody has the balls to try and slip anything into your drink, they're dead. You'll know it was Risotto's doing, too. The person will have razor-blades growing out of their eyes, or a pair of scissors stuck in their throat, or something of the sort. He commits these acts quite coldly and calmly, which frightens the other patrons at the bar. However, no one really has sympathy for someone who was trying to spike a drink, so the creep is quickly forgotten about.

When you return to your seat, Risotto will pass your drink back to you. It was well protected. But the rim of your glass is warm.

Prosciutto

Prosciutto takes your drink and places a napkin on top of it, keeping a watchful eye over it. He neglects his own drink for a while, feeling as though he might forget about yours if he indulges too much. Anyone who seems suspicious, he keeps an eye on.

If he finds someone trying to get to your drink, he'll use Grateful Dead to age them to death. And not quickly. Prosciutto is not one to throw any punches at the creep. He much prefers to make them suffer for ever thinking they could drug his S/O and try to harm them.

Prosciutto removes the napkin only after you've sat down again. He reassures you nothing happened to your drink while he kicks some dust under the bar.

Ghiaccio

Ghiaccio takes your drink into his hands after you excuse yourself. He thinks about freezing it, but remembers alcohol can't exactly freeze. Instead, he freezes the condensation on your glass and turns it into a protective barrier. Nobody is getting past that. Not on his watch, at least. Anyone whose eyes linger on your drink is getting the signature Ghiaccio death stare, which is usually enough to deter any creeps.

If someone is desperate enough to bring a heat gun or a hair dryer to try and spike your drink, Ghiaccio still has the situation under control. Unlike Prosciutto and Risotto, he won't kill them. Rather, this hot-head will scream at the top of his lungs and bring all the attention in the room towards the offender. Most likely, no hands will be thrown. The offender is usually so startled and embarassed, they get the hell out of dodge.

Once you return, Ghiaccio unfreezes the ice around your drink so you can continue enjoying it. You're astonished at the fact that your drink feels a lot colder than when the bartender served it to you.

Illuso

Like this asshole wouldn't just let your drink get spiked on purpose

Illuso is quite nonchalant about the whole thing. He doesn't cover your drink with anything, or make any moves to pull it closer to him. You worry he might not be paying attention, but he is. Illuso is confident he can keep your drink from being messed with without much stress. He's using the mirrors around the bar to watch any person who might be eyeing your drink a little too hard.

If someone should attempt to put anything in your drink, Illuso will catch them and pull them into the mirror world with him. He won't kill them, but he will rough them up a bit and frighten them. He's a big man, and he knows he can handle it if they should fight back. After a little beat down and a couple threats on their lives and families, he'll toss them out of the bar himself.

Illuso will proudly tell you about the poor excuse of a human he just tore a new one. All while he has a new drink for you, instead of the one you had been drinking. He won't admit he took his eyes off of it to beat the hell out of the person who tried to spike it, and forgot someone else could have tried to spike it while he was busy.

Pesci

Pesci goes all out when protecting your drink. He keeps it with him at all times, and never takes his eyes off of it. He places a coaster over the top, and covers it with his hand for good measure. Even given all the protection he's given your drink, he's still nervous about someone trying anything. He doesn't want you to get sick, or hurt. Anybody who looks suspicious gets watched like a hawk.

If someone does try to distract him to get something in your drink, he won't let go of the damn thing. You entrusted him with the safety of not only your beverage, but you as well. He's not going to start a fight, but he will tell the bartender (and maybe Prosciutto) what they're doing. He'll get them kicked out so you won't have to deal with them. Even after the creep is gone, he's still apprehensive that he might have taken his eyes off your drink for only a second. He asks the bartender to get you a new drink, just in case.

You'll return to the bar with a brand new drink waiting for you, and a nervous and flustered Pesci explaining the events that just transpired.

Formaggio

Formaggio places a relaxed hand over your drink and won't stress over it being tampered with. He doesn't think anyone will mess with it if he's got it. Plus, his hand is over it, so he thinks he'll feel it if someone tries to put something in it.

If someone does try to mess with your drink, they'll be caught by Formaggio. At first, he'll tell them to fuck off and shove them away, still remaining quite pleasant. If they don't take the hint, he'll get a bit more aggressive. If they still insist, he'll shrink them down and, quite hilariously, drown them in your drink. He can't contain himself. He's laughing like a maniac, but everyone around him can't really tell what he's laughing at. The patrons and the bartender are a bit weirded out, but they resume their own business, thinking he's just drunk.

You'll come back to a new drink. When you ask Formaggio why you have a new one, he'll brush it off by saying it spilled when some guy tried to mess with it. He won't tell you

Melone (the reason you need to cover your drink)

All jokes aside, Melone, as lascivious as he might be, will take your drink and place it next to his. He might take a curious sip of it to sample the taste, but that's the extent of his tampering with your drink. He keeps the glass close and watches it. Any suspicious faces at the bar are noted, but he doesn't watch them intently.

If someone tries to spike your drink under his watch, they can expect Baby Face to visit them later. Melone doesn't usually opt towards physical confrontation, but he won't sit idly by while someone tries to take advantage of you. He'll find a way to injure them after confronting them for their act. Once he's got a bit of their blood, they're history.

You come back to a very relaxed Melone, who passes your drink to you. He'll tell you that someone tried to spike your drink, but that they're nothing to worry about anymore. With a sly smirk, he'll admit to taking a sip of your drink, and offers you a taste of his to make it even.

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spinningwebsandtales · 2 years ago

Text

DMC5 Guys Accidentally Kissing Reader HCs

Requested by @danielle-marie

(A/N:) Thank you for the request! I love doing these headcanons for my readers. They’re really fun to write and are some of my most popular! Buckle in for some fluff everyone cause this is gonna be fun! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess

Dante X FemReader

Dante always teases you, acting like he’s going to kiss you.

You push him away thinking he’s mostly just joking, which he’s actually just trying to hide his actual feelings under his goofy persona.

So you actually never know what he is thinking or feeling cause he always hides everything under corny jokes or a grin.

Dante hides the fact well that the feelings he has for you runs deeper than even he can imagine.

Then the day came that day that he could no longer hide his feelings.

It had been a normal day when the job came in from Morrison. Dante wanted you to stay but you refused.

Dante knew it was going to be a difficult mission but you stayed in and handled it as you normally do.

His adrenaline was pumping at the end of the fight and he wasn’t thinking straight when he wrapped around your waist.

You gasped at the sudden touch before you were tugged into his side and Dante’s lips were on yours.

You stiffened looking at him with wide eyes before Dante regained his bearings.

He released you quickly as you stumbled backwards.

He sheepishly looked down, not knowing how to explain that it had been an accident when you said his name.

He looked up, surprised to see you so close.

“Is that how you feel?”

“Yeah.”

You kissed him gently back.

Vergil X FemReader

Vergil always seems to keep you at arms length so you honestly can’t tell if he likes you or just tolerates you.

Every time you get a little too close he puts distance between you both.

It hurts your feelings but you keep the hurt hidden as it would just push him away more.

He throws himself headfirst into whatever he’s doing, especially when it comes to battle.

Demons have no chance when Vergil is before them with Yamato.

You are rarely able to help when it comes to battles.

One day that changed when the hoard you and him came across was proving too much for even Vergil.

He’s too busy trying to keep himself alive that he has no time to check on you.

When he dispatches the last one he turns to find you, only to see you gone.

Despite his cool attitude towards you he cares deeply. So deeply it scares him.

He just doesn’t know how to express himself very well and it comes off as distant and harsh.

But when he finds you laying on the ground, surrounded by demon corpses and your body in a pool of blood. His blood freezes.

He rushes to your side knowing that he just lost one of the people he truly cares about.

Overwhelmed by his emotions and not used to feeling such things he kisses you as he’s scared he’s lost you.

You stir causing Vergil to stiffen and release you.

“Did you just kiss me?”

“I thought you were dead. It was an accident I didn’t know what to do.”

“Well at least that confirms that you don’t hate me.”

I could never hate you.”

Nero X FemReader

Nero and you have a very special relationship as you both like each other but have a hard time expressing how you both feel.

You both think so much alike you butt heads quite often which leads to arguments.

They aren’t arguments where you come to blows but just over stupid things.

Like if Nero leaves the toilet seat up or you left the milk out on the counter.

You both feel stupid afterwards and wind up making up a little later and becoming close once again.

But Nero has been noticing that his feelings for you are changing more and more each day.

He can’t imagine his life without you and it scares him that one of these arguments would have you storming out of his door and life forever.

Today was one of those times he was the most fearful as you were shouting at him with no end in sight.

He couldn’t remember the reason the argument started but here you were shouting and pointing your finger in his face.

He steps back trying to apologize but he can’t even get one word in as you are on a roll.

At a loss on what to do Nero sudden grabs you, pulling you in, and kissing you quickly.

Cutting off your argument you stand there speechless.

“Did you just kiss me?”

“Yeah. I didn’t know what to do and it just happened.”

“What were we arguing about?”

“I don’t remember.”

V X FemReader

V is a quiet man and more often than not he keeps his feelings to himself.

So you really don’t know what he’s thinking majority of the time and he’s good at keeping things hidden.

If his attention isn’t on you, it’s on his ever present book of poems.

You were beginning to think that he loved his book more than you.

It made you huffy if he didn’t pay attention to you in a certain amount of time but you didn’t voice your annoyance.

The reason V would retreat into his book is that he didn’t know how to react to the feelings that swirled inside when you were near.

One night you were making tea for the both of you, enjoying a cozy evening inside.

The radio playing softly in the background while V read from the book out loud.

His voice filling the house with deep rich tones that flowed from his tongue.

You found yourself enraptured as you placed the tea cup on the table at his side.

You leaned closer and closer, hanging onto every sentence until you were as close as possible.

V paused midsentence to grab his teacup but when he turned, your close proximity was a surprise and he found his lips upon yours.

You stiffened and he quickly moved away, not wanting to insult you or think that was his intentions the whole time.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you had gotten so close to me.”

“That’s okay I should have just left your tea and went to sit down. I couldn’t help it as I really liked that one.”

“Would you like me to read it again?”

“Yes please.”

He patted the cushion by his side and you took the offer.

When you sat back down your teacup cupped in trembling hands.

V leaned over kissing your cheek before going back to reading to you.

#Dante X Reader #Vergil X Reader #Nero X Reader #V X Reader #DMC Imagine #Devil May Cry #Devil May Cry Imagine #DMC #Not My Gifs #My Writing

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garbinge · 11 months ago

Text

But Not Today

Chibs Telford x F!Teller!Reader

Summary: Part 2 from Maybe One Day // Chibs comes to visit you on the farm.

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Angsty. Mentions of death, murder, emotional distress, emotionally heavy.

SOA Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics

A/N: I've been thinking about these two a lot </3 Part 1

Your chest was rising and falling as you caught your breath and stared at the ceiling. It was the moment where all your wits and sanity came back over you and the thoughts of what just happened came flooding in. The smell of his Scottish cologne and cigarettes filled the empty space on the bed next to you, it was still warm to the touch. You heard the water from the faucet turn off and any thought that was sneaking in your brain was now being rushed out as Chibs reappeared in your room. His hands were tangling through his shirt as he put it back on. Your eyes darted from him to his kutte, waiting to see if he was going to put it on. That’s when your heart began to race even more. The thought of him leaving made you uneasy, he had come all the way up here to the farm to see you and explained nothing. It was partially your fault too, you made pleasantries, some quick small talk but before any explanation was given you were kissing him and dragging him into your room.

“What’s with the face, love?” Chibs spoke as he grabbed his kutte, your heart sinking with it.

“Leaving already?” Your eyes moved back to his.

A smile grew on his face as he shrugged the leather over his shoulders. “You promised me uh tour, didn’ya? If I ‘member correctly you said sum ‘bout chickens?”

The way the relief washed over you made you sad for a minute. You knew this was a feeling you’d feel again, that it’d be heavy when it happened, but you took a deep breath and tried to stay in the moment.

“Earl, Tootsie, Olive, and Jameson.” You named them off as you stood up and re-dressed.

Chibs was now grinning as he waited for you to get ready. “Jameson, huh?” He asked pulling out a cigarette to hang in his mouth, eager to get outside and smoke it.

“Abel and Thomas named them when they were young kids, but I made sure I suggested one.”

Chibs was holding out your sweatshirt for you. You approached and grabbed it from him but instead of letting go he pulled you closer. “Not tha only thing you have ‘round here as a reminder of me.” His face was dangerously close to yours as he looked down at the sweatshirt. It was the one item of his you could still wear around. There were no SAMCRO tags, just a black zip-up that barely had his scent left on it.

“I’ve got pictures too.” You said stealing the zip-up back from him and placing a kiss on the left side of his mouth where the cigarette wasn’t dangling from his lips. Moving past him you made your way to the backdoor, the barn dog you got quickly getting up from her bed and moving to the sliding door just waiting to run around to herd the few goats you had.

“Where’re the boys?” Chibs asked as he walked behind you.

“Thomas is with Nero. Tuesdays he picks him up from school and takes him to basketball practice.” You spoke as the door slid open and the door ran past your legs. “Abel is 16— I’m lucky if I know what he’s wearing for the day. I thought Gemma was being exaggerated when she’d talk about the “Teller Terrible Teens” but Abel has made her words an understatement.”

Chibs looked to you with a frown as you stepped onto the back deck and made your way down to the farmland.

“It’s not horrible. He’s not a dick to me, he helps out when I ask. He just– he questions everything, he’s asking about Jax, he’s getting into trouble at school.” You shook your head thinking about these last few weeks and how Abel had been acting out.

“The worst part is, he reminds me of him so much. The way he looks, the way he talks.” You laughed as you unlatched the barn fence and moved around it to look at Chibs and invite him in with the sway of your arm. “Yesterday, we were at the grocery store and he looked at the girl bagging our shit and said, “thanks, darlin’” I swore I was looking at Jax, I froze for a minute and just stared at him.” You laughed again.

Chibs laughed with you knowing it sounded just like the boy’s father.

“He’s probably out with his friends on his dirt bikes in the back trails.” You spoke as you walked through the goat pasture. “They probably do real stupid shit but I’d rather them do it on the property than at some random’s house or parking lot downtown. I’ve turned them into real country boys.” You turned back to see Chibs admiring everything around him. He was still listening to you but he was taking in the sight around him.

“This is the goat pasture, Billie girl, our dog, loves herding them, honestly I got ‘em because I don’t have to mow the lawn as much. We’ve got 1 horse, Delilah, real beauty, she’s back in that red barn over there. Then there’s the chickens. We had more but they aged out, now we’re down to the four. Waiting to get 12 more, can’t go to the Farmer’s market with only 2 dozen eggs, you know?” The words were falling out fast as you spoke, nervous habit, but it didn’t stop you from beaming as you showed Chibs around.

“You seem happy.” Chibs couldn’t help but smile as he took in every word you said. The both of you approached the back deck and plopped down on the rocking chairs Nero insisted you kept back here for company. It was an argument between you two when you first moved onto the farm. You looked at him like he was crazy when he mentioned company. It was hard to believe a normal life with having people over could exist when you were running from what you were running from.

You looked over at Chibs as he looked right back at you after making his last comment, the smile on your face wasn’t at his words but at the memory of Nero’s.

“I don’t know about happy.” You began to shake your head. “But, I don’t know I’m content, I’m…” Your mind wandered to find the right word.

“At peace.” Chibs nodded as he finished your sentence, not even bothering to look at your eyes to see if his words were correct, he knew they were.

You would have agreed with a nod but Chibs was looking out at the farm, his fave had fallen into an expression that was hard to read. He seemed…bittersweet. Happy but yet sad.

As he stared out at the barn he nodded his head and said something under his breath.

“The Universe will never give you peace in something you were never meant to settle in.”

“What?” You leaned forward, frown filling your face as the familiar sentiment fell from his lips. It was hard to really pinpoint anything since he spoke it at a mumble.

“I, uh.” Chibs reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small pocket notebook. “found this. In the garage. S’why I came out here, figured you should have it.” He handed over one of Jax’s notebooks. You knew what it was immediately, it matched the style of the other one you had.

“I read it.” Chibs said those three words with multiple emotions behind it. Regret and apologies, for intruding on whatever privacy there was there, but also firmness and understanding like something in there just made sense.

“And?” You rested your elbows on your knees.

“‘nd, it’s’y I came here and didn’t mail it out.” He looked troubled now. “I wanted to make sure you were settled.”

Now that statement held more weight knowing what he had just mumbled under his breath.

“I guess I am.” You hated that the words felt like they were breaking his heart.

“You are, love.” Chibs spoke with certainty.

You looked out onto the farm, taking in the life you had. It was different than the life you had been born into, forced into. The life that took pretty much everything away from you.

“It’s impossible to be at peace in that town.” You said the words outloud. It felt relieving to say it. All this time you had never said it outloud, they were just thoughts that danced around you head.

“Don’t I know it.” Chibs agreed with you.

That made your head turn to him, a little shocked. All your conversations when you were together, or involved was probably the better word, back in Charming never were really about the big problem. Sure, you two talked about club stuff, the things members told their ol’ ladies, about your brother, about Jimmy O, about a lot, but never the real source.

“What are you saying?” You questioned him, more bold than you ever would have before.

“Things are different. Things are messy.” He wanted to share but you could tell he was hesitant, that he was trying to ease back into your dynamic and add another layer to it. But the loyalty to the club ran deep, that was a multi-decade long habit that he was trying to break for the first time.

“Doesn’t sound different.” That was the new you coming up to speak. The you that lost your brother, your brother’s best friend, your mother, your father to the club.

Chibs nodded at that. “We’re getting into it with the Mayans. Other charters, they’re falling apart, it’s bleeding into SAMCRO.”

“Yea, doesn’t sound different at all.” You crossed your arms and fell back into the rocking chair.

“Your brother–Jax–Jackie boy,” Chibs went through all the names he’d call Jackson Teller, smiling at the last one before letting his lips fall, “this wasn’t what he wanted, he worked hard to leave everything in a good place and it’s like shit unraveled.”

You could tell he was venting to you, you could tell he hadn’t been able to do this with anyone else in his life, no one from the club, no one in his love life, it could’ve made you feel special, a characteristic Chibs never failed at with you, but this wasn’t so much of a fail but just not something you could ever feel special about again.

“As someone who's seen it before, from the outside but up close and personal. This doesn’t seem different at all.”

It was the same statement you kept repeating, but this time, the way you said this, it made him look at you. His eyes were low, tired, and you could see the gloss and redness in them as he held back tears. Two strands of his long salt and pepper hair escaped from his sunglasses and fell in front of his eyes, oily and dirty you could tell he was going through it.

He didn’t need to say anything, you knew he was looking at you to elaborate.

It was mean to laugh, but you felt that you had the right to after everything you’ve been through and talking about it now was bringing that bitterness up.

“You’re so deep in it, you don’t even see what’s plain in front of your eyes.” You closed your eyes and took a deep breath letting the irritation leave your tone for the next sentence out of your mouth. “Your next. Everyone who's held that gavel ends up in the same place, making the same mistakes as the one previous, no matter how hard they try not to.”

Chibs took in what you said.

“Jax tried so hard to be JT, then tried so hard not to be him. Both of those things dug that grave for him. He loved the club more than anything and the club couldn’t love him back.” You were saying things that you had locked away in your mind for years, things you thought about as you buried your brother, as you packed your life up and left. “The club will never love you back.” You looked at Chibs. “Those guys might love you, but the club never will.”

“Do you?”

You weren’t sure if he was trying to change the subject, at first your head snapped to him with a smirk and a snappy remark to shoot back at him but you saw his face that was looking out at the farm.

“Never stopped.”

The words made him look at you and you smiled at him. Your head tilted and lowered to meet him at eye level since he was leaning his elbows on his knees. “Best part is, the farm,” you tilted your head a little more before leveling it out, “it loves you back.” You nodded. “Every animal, every acre of land, the boys even when they fucking hate you for embarrasing them in front of a girl,” you laughed at that one and smiled hoping the last one was going to be enough to convince him, “me.”

The tear dropped at that one. His eyes shut tight as a couple more fell.

“Move here. You can open up a garage, we have the buildings for it, Nero would even let you put something up closer to the road, you can come with me to the Farmer’s market, you can drive me to the vet at 2 in the morning when I’m worried that Billie got into something or that one of the chicken’s has a fever,” you chuckled, “you can ride dirt bikes with the boys and tell them about Jax, not SAMCRO president, but your best friend, how you fell in love with your best friend’s sister, you can wake up and feel settled, feel at peace.”

Chibs wanted to say yes. He wanted to build a fire and burn the kutte right here right now, but he knew it wasn’t that easy. In this moment it was but as the thought settled, as the days would pass, he’d think about it, he’d dwell in it, wonder if he made the right decision, miss the kutte, miss the guys.

“It’s not that easy, love.” Chibs tired to level with you.

“Doesn’t seem like the life you’re living now is either.” You would beg him, it wasn’t below you to beg. “It’s going to kill you.” You were firm in your words, it wasn’t begging but you thought it might have an impact on him. “The club is going to kill you.”

“A normal life would too.” He answered too quickly and immediately you knew it was a losing argument.

The sound of an engine and the gravel dirt being stirred up and you knew it was Thomas and Nero coming back home. Chibs looked over and saw them pulling into the driveway when he stood up.

“Was really good seeing you, love.” He put his hand on your cheek and looked down at you. “Really good.” His thumb caressed your cheek and he smiled.

You nodded in agreement and thanked him for the journal. His hand was still on your cheek when you shut your eyes tight. “Don’t come back here unless the ink is blacked out and the kutte is off.”

The words broke you to say, but it was more than just you that you had to look out for. You had two boys to think of and the man who was generous enough to give you half of his acreage to live on.

“Ay.” He agreed with no disdain in his voice, if anything it was littered with understanding and what you hoped was well, hope.

Your eyelids remained shut as his hand dropped and he walked off the back porch. You heard the car doors close but no words exchanged. If you weren’t dealing with everything that just happened in your head right now you’d be imagining the way Nero was probably lifting his sunglasses while Chibs was lowering his, the nods both would give to eachother, the curious questioning look on Thomas’ face as he tried to place the visitor.

“You alright?” Nero’s voice was filling your ears and you wished it offered up the level of comfort it normally did.

The tears were wiped from your face immediately and you stood and smiled. “Yea, I’m good.”

Nero knew you weren’t but he also knew you weren’t going to share with Thomas two steps from joining you on the porch.

“Who was that?” Thomas was asking as he looked down at the snack he was fidgeting with to open.

Your gaze looked at Nero and said so much while not speaking at all. Before you either had a chance to answer, another voice was coming from the other direction as the back door swung open. “Was that guy on the bike here at the farm?” Abel’s voice was like a knife to your heart.

“Yea, it was someone looking to sell me something.” You lied straight through your teeth to both boys.

“Oh.” Thomas said as he passed by both you and Nero without second guessing your statement and walked right past his older brother into the house.

Abel looked like he might need more convincing but you could tell he decided to drop it. “I’m goin’ out later but I picked up the feed order and left it in the ATV wagon.”

“12AM curfew.” You pointed at him and he waved you off but you knew he’d be back before 1.

“What was he sellin’?” Nero asked you, the only one besides you who knew exactly who it was that was here.

You looked at Nero and shook your head at him.

“A dream.”

#SOA #Sons of Anarchy #Sons #SOA Fanfic #sons of anarchy fanfic #chibs telford #chibs telford fanfiction #chibs sons of anarchy #chibs x reader #chibs telford x reader #teller sister #jax teller sister #jax teller sister reader

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animelovelover123 · 10 months ago

Note

Hey there! You don't have to answer, but what do you think (insert DMC charas of your choice) would do for Valentines Day? Love your work btw. Always makes my day when you post 🥰 Have a great evening

Devil May Cry Boys Valentine

Parings: Dante, Reboot Dante, Vergil, Reboot Vergil, Nero, V x Reader

Author Note: Thanks for the suggestion! I woke up late today (was up and down all night because of period pain) and when I saw this and started imagining scenarios it made me feel better. Hope you like it, happy Valentine’s Day/Singles Awareness Day!

Dante

This mans straight up forgot, like always. He is always forgetting dates and holidays, especially if he is out on a mission in some remote place so doesn’t have the typical festive decorations that litter stores to tip him off that some event is approaching. Even when he is at home though, sometimes he holes up in his house just eating delivery food and relaxing so the world outside and the passage of time goes on without him.

He scrambles to prepare something, anything.

What can he set up in less than a day? What do people do for Valentine’s Day? He is not used to having a partner.

Fancy restaurants? Can he get into any of those? No, they have all been booked months in advance.

Okay, candlelit dinner at home. Should he order something? No, that’s not special enough. So he should cook. He can cook, right? It can’t be that hard.

It was… it was hard.

Well while that disaster is on the way, what else can he do?

Flowers? Flowers sound nice. Again though, most florists are sold out of the traditional roses, but at least he can make his own with his demon abilities (see Lucifer from DMC4). How many does he make though? One? Six? A dozen? Well now Dante has enough roses to fill a hot tub but that’s fine, he can just sprinkle the petals around. What does he do with the stems? Uh… just throw them in the closet for now.

What else?

He should dress up! He still has a suit, right? Does it fit him still? He hasn’t worn it in years.

In the end, you have dinner with Dante who tries to act cool, despite the fact that he is in a suit that is two sizes too small, his food is a mushy mess (a good-tasting mush might I add but still), he nearly set the place on fire with the old candles he used, and you both have little nicks all over your hands from cleaning up the rose stems that came cascading out of the closet when you tried to hang up your coat.

He swears up and down that he will do better next year. Yes, it was a disaster, but by god he tried.

Reboot Dante

Dante is not into Valentine’s Day and how commercialized it is. Every ad, shop, and website proclaims that if you don’t buy your partner <insert product name here> then your relationship will fail. What bullshit.

But you know what is kind of fun? The day after.

Pounds and pounds of chocolate and sweets on sale for cheap.

Popular hangout spots mostly barren as everyone just went.

Bars and restaurants with half-used bottles of wine and champagne that are usually multiple tens of dollars a glass now being sold at a fraction of the price because it was quickly going stale.

Valentine-themed lingerie and sex toys practically being given away at stores.

So hold off on the celebration baby. Save that cash you would have spent.

The next day you and Dante will go on a shopping spree, buying more chocolate than you two could eat.

And as you two indulge in said chocolate, you can bounce from one place to the next, enjoying bougie alcohol at empty restaurants and practically having places like amusement parks, arcades, and waterparks all to yourselves.

And when you two get home, well you now have a drawer full of new lingerie and sex paraphernalia that Dante is dying to try. Which one does he want to try today? Oh no baby, you don’t get it. Dante wants to try them all.

Vergil

Vergil is the kind of man who did not see a point in doing anything special for Valentine’s Day. He gave you love and affection all year round, why would doing something specifically on this one day mean more than any other?

But if you show even the slightest sliver of disappointment at this, he will do something. Nothing basic though. If he was going to go out of his way for this then he was going to be extra about it.

So on the day he picks you up from work, school, or just your home, in a limo.

He takes you to a dress and suit rental shop filled with gowns and suits of all styles and colours. He also made sure to find a rental place that also offered accessories so jewellery, headdresses, and shoes were also available.

He will not exert his will over your choice, but he does want to be present for you trying things on and he will suggest some things. He claims that he simply wants to make sure you are presentable, but he secretly is having a lot of fun seeing you in different styles, patterns, and colours. He takes mental notes of what kind of things you look good in so he can get them for you later.

Once you pick out whatever you like he takes you to a dance hall where a ball is being held. Men, women, and everyone in between are dressed to the nines and dance around the room to live music. The way the lights shine, the glitter of jewels sparkle, and the fabric of all the dresses swish around creating a dream-like atmosphere.

Vergil will lead you in multiple dances. If you seem nervous or mess up the steps, he does not criticize you. He brushes it off as there is no need to worry. Yes, this was an elegant ball, but that should not restrict you. He did not bring you here to try to force you to act fancy.

He brought you here to make you happy, and that’s all he cares about. Not just today, but every day.

Reboot Vergil

This man is always working and unfortunately does not spend a lot of one-on-one time with you. He makes exceptions for special events though, such as your birthday, anniversaries, and Valentine’s Day.

He will spend time with you for these events. Note, though, that the likelihood of Vergil actually spending the specific day with you is low. His social life must work around his work, he warned you of this before you started dating. So your Valintine’s Day celebration will happen in about a month's vicinity of February 14th.

When the time comes though, Vergil spares no expense. Literally, this man is loaded and he will use this opportunity to shower you with luxury and attention to make up for all the time he spends working.

We are talking about a multi-day vacation to anywhere in the world you want to go to do whatever you want. And you know exactly where you are going because you are the one that planned it all. Again, Vergil is a very busy man.

This isn't to say he will not have a few surprises in store for you.

Despite what it may seem, when you are talking at him while he is typing away on his computer he is listening. He has a specific file on his computer that lists all of the things you are interested in and said you wanted and will secretly add to it while you talk.

The surprises he gets you for Valentine’s Day will be extravagant, not a simple book or game you have been interested in. He just buys those for you whenever they come up, if you don’t take the initiative and get it yourself with his card. So be ready for things like private concerts from your favourite singer and/or group, getting to play the beta version of an unreleased game you have been waiting years for, or getting to play a minor role in an episode or two of your favourite TV show.

The time you two had together would be relatively brief, as only a few days were scheduled and he reminded you that he would have to return to work as soon as possible.

It was almost two weeks later when he could finally pull himself away from you.

Nero

A traditional lover from a traditional city and religion.

Even if Nero was not really into the rules and restrictions of The Order of the Sword, some of his beliefs did line up with theirs.

For example, Nero wasn’t interested in getting you something sexy for Valentine’s Day as he felt it was a bit sleazy and he worried that it would give off the impression that he was only interested in sex. However, if you are the one to gift him with a special something something in the bedroom then he will be all for it.

No, Nero wanted to keep things clean and simple.

Flowers, chocolates, and a card filled with some personal and deep feelings that you better not tell anyone about because he would die of embarrassment if it got out.

He’ll take you out on a date, but not to a restaurant or anything. Instead, he planned a picnic for you two. He made all the food himself, with minimal help from Kyrie. Mainly she just acted as a recipe book and made sure everything he made was safe to eat. Nero was a decent cook, but he did not want to risk making you sick. It may not look immaculate (he doesn’t have a normal right arm, give him a break) but it tasted great.

On the day he will take you out of town, somewhere nice and natural. A peaceful place with a beautiful view and no one around for miles that can get in the way of you two being together.

This will be the first Valentine’s Day V ever celebrates, period. He knows of the day, of course, and many of the traditions that accompany it. But he has never gotten to experience them.

It was also a bit troublesome as many of the typical Valentine’s Day activities, such as fancy dinners, either at home or going out, giving flowers and reciting poetry were things V did for you regularly.

So if days with him are already filled with elegance and refined shows of affection, how would he make this day special? Well, he will do the opposite.

V invites you to make homemade chocolates with him. With his lack of experience, it is a messy task and the finished product is far from immaculate, but that did not matter to him.

He could clean later and his familiars could eat any mistakes created. (They were demons, they could eat chocolate despite their animal forms.)

What mattered was experiencing something new with you. To spend the day working together, laughing at the mess-ups and sharing the prideful joy of success.

And he also quickly discovered the appeal of licking chocolate off each other.

#devil may cry imagine #devil may cry x reader #dante x reader #nero x reader #v x reader #vergil x reader #reboot dante x reader #reboot vergil x reader #valentines day

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brandyllyn · 5 months ago

Text

Silk from their soul (24)

The Ghoul / Cooper Howard x f!reader [no use of y/n]

Rated: T Words: 2k Summary: A kiss

Series Masterlist My Masterlist

It’s been a hell of a long while since he had the faith of a good woman in his holster. It’s a heady feeling, putting a spring in his step. He could probably wrestle half of Vault-Tec bare handed right now if someone let him. The only problem is that they’re not letting him near her.

Oh, she’s still in sight. Walking a few steps behind that fuckwit scientist. But when he’d tried to fall in next to her those rank goons had intercepted. Instead, he’d dropped back to walk with the three bounty hunters.

“I don’t suppose you’ve worked with our malodorous friends here before, have you?”

Sancho shakes his head, chewing on his lip. “No. And I don’t like it.” Cooper waits and the man shoots him a look. “Starting to get the feeling I won’t be getting my bounty.”

“I’d be mighty surprised if you did.”

Sancho frowns but doesn’t say another word and Cooper doesn’t press the issue. He can see a structure in the distance and he squints as it comes into view.

Nero’s palace is a piece of shit.

With as many caps as the man had put out for her, you’d think he’d be able to spare a few on his defenses. Or even a some fucking paint. But the buildings are falling down, bits of sheet metal propped haphazardly together to form other structures. As they get closer a small party comes out to meet them.

“You have the merchandise?”

Galen frowns at the man, using one hand to shield his eyes from the sun. “I have the subject, yes. Please stand aside.”

The guard exchanges a glance with Galen’s bodyguards before stepping to the side and Cooper makes a note of it. There are people peering out as they walk through the slanted doors, most of them sad and bedraggled - not a one worth half a fight. When they get closer to the central building he starts to see some real muscle, but no one who’d give him a lick of real trouble.

“Feel like the four of us could take the place out,” Sancho mutters.

Cooper doesn’t even look his way as they pass inside. “There ain’t no us.”

Nero’s younger than he expected, and about a foot shorter. Hell, his girl’s probably got at least half a foot on the bastard. He’s balding too, with a bit of paunch and lips so thin they disappear into his red face. He’s got his feet kicked up when they enter the room, a sneer on his face.

“This her?”

She steps forward, head high, and a soft smile on her lips. Cooper feels something in his jaw crack at the way she’s walking towards that asshole, hips swaying and eyes making promises - even assuming she has no intention of keeping them.

They probably should have planned things better last night. He’d had every intention to. If she wanted to go in guns blazing then he was down for that. And if she was going to play some game with the assholes he was fine with that too. He was her hired gun, paid for with the cum likely still dripping out of her.

He’d need to keep an eye on that - be sure her healing could keep up with his radioactive spunk.

But the way she’s walking, the way she’s smiling, she had some plan in mind and Cooper has no fucking idea what it is.

“You must be Nero,” she breathes, tilting her hands out in supplication. They’re still bound and she gives them a slight frown before smiling again. Her breasts are doing something bordering on obscene, heaving in her dress until every eye in the room must be stuck on them.

Too bad Cooper was going to have to blind them all for it.

“Dr. Galen told me how handsome you were,” she’s taking a step closer and her breasts are almost in the man’s face. “I thought he must be lying, no one could be…” she stops abruptly, a hitch in her breath that she lets out in a masterful piece of acting, “so lovely.”

God, the cretin is eating it up with a spoon.

“Why is my future wife tied up?” he yells, almost snarling. “If there’s so much as a scratch on her I’ll cut your damn dicks off.”

The smile she gives him is dazzling and Cooper is about to eat someone’s fucking face.

“It’s understandable, a big, powerful, strong man such as yourself,” her fingers reach out, wrists still bound together, and gently trace the buttons on his shirt, “can never be too careful. What if I was dangerous?”

Someone appears next to her and cuts the binding on her wrists and she steps even closer, leaning over him and resting a hand on his thigh..

Nero shakes his head for a moment. “They say you ran away.”

“I got lost,” she pouts, “I wanted to get here sooner and I… I did something silly. Can you forgive me?”

The man’s eyes sharpen and suddenly he’s gripping the back of her head. “Get on your knees.”

There’s only a slight hesitation before she lowers herself, tilting her head up with lips parted. Cooper had imagined the same thing a hundred times, only he was never standing across the room for it.

“You’re mine,” Nero grunts, twisting his hand and forcing her towards him. “You understand that?”

“Of course I am.”

“And you’ll never run again.”

“Never,” she breathes, leaning into his grasping hand. “I couldn’t possibly. Not after seeing you.”

“Did anyone touch you?”

“I would never,” she sounds so vehement Cooper almost believes her, even though he knows for a fact there’s a perfect impression of his handprint on her left asscheek.

“Good,” Nero grunts. He glances up at the doctor, “How does this work?”

She answers first, “You don’t need to ask him. No more questions. Just kiss me.”

He does, thin lips crushing against hers and it takes everything in Cooper to not go into a full berserker rage. They part and Nero gives her a predatory smile.

“Now suck my cock, show them all what an obedient little slut you are.”

With determined nonchalance she turns her head and spits, glaring at him with a small smirk. “I don’t think I will.”

Nero reels as if someone hit him. He glares over her head, eyes narrowing on one figure slowly backing away. “What the fuck, Galen,” Nero hisses. “You fucking said-”

“I did,” Galen holds his hands up. “It’s supposed to - she must have imprinted on someone else.”

Imprinted?

“Which one of you fucks,” Nero rounds on the bounty hunters who immediately take a step back. Cooper doesn’t, tilting his head thoughtfully as he stares at her.

“I said,” she turns slightly, meeting his eyes, “no more questions.”

No more… oh shit that was his cue. In one motion he lifts the revolver of the man next to him, putting a bullet between Nero’s eyes even as he spins to take out the next guard. The room erupts into chaos, people running every which way as shrapnel starts to fly his direction - something hitting him in the shoulder.

“Hit the deck,” he barks at her, grunting in satisfaction when she does so, covering her head with her hands. Someone bumps into his side and he whirls on them, eyes narrowing as Sancho takes a shot past him.

“Take them out and split the loot?”

Cooper doesn’t agree but he doesn’t shoot him either. That’s a problem for later. Right now there’s a host of ill-equipped idiots who think he’s an easy target just because he ain’t ducking for cover like everyone else.

Three more bullets through three more eyes put a stop to that real fast. There’s a pause while Cooper and the three bounty hunters eye each other over the bodies around them.

“Parlay?” a voice asks with a shaky tremor.

Cooper grunts, looking for the source, protectively standing over where she’s still laid out on the floor. “You even know what that word means?” he asks the air.

The frowning face of one of Nero’s men pokes out from behind a wall. “It means I don’t want you shooting my dick off.”

Tilting his head Cooper doesn’t try to hide his grin. “And why would I refrain from such a thing?”

“Cause I don’t give a shit about you, or your girl.” The man eyes him a moment before stepping out further. He’s armed, so not a complete fool, but not aiming it at anything important.

“That doesn’t exactly endear you to me.”

“Leave,” the man says quickly, “you ain’t got a reason to be here, right? Y’all leave, we can all move on with our lives.”

“What about the bounty?” Sancho asks, stepping forward with a frown. Cooper ignores him, turning to crouch next to her and holding a hand out to help her up.

“You okay?”

She shakes her hands out, a bit of someone’s brain sliding off and splattering to the floor.“I’m fine. Gross, but fine.”

He picks a piece of skull out of her hair and tosses it to the side. “You ready to go?”

“No.” Stooping she pulls the revolver from Nero’s body, checking the chambers before clicking the clip into place. “We need to find Galen.”

Cooper frowns at the room, suddenly realizing the scientist isn’t there. Sancho and the man are squabbling and he doesn’t bother to be polite when he interrupts, “Where’d the egghead go?” Both men stop to stare at him. After a moment he prompts them with a slight wave of his gun. “You know, Doctor Shit for Brains.”

“I think he went that way,” someone says, pointing back out the main door. Next to him she nods, holding the revolver loose in one hand and stepping over the blood smears. She doesn’t seem concerned with what is going on in the room so Cooper isn’t either. With a touch of his glove to his hat brim he gives them a smile, “Pleasure,” and then follows her out.

They find Galen not far away, arguing loudly with someone about supplies.

“Nero promised me enough to get back to the facility.”

“I don’t give a flying shit what-”

The trader blanches when he sees Cooper and backs away, leaving Galen gaping at thin air.

“Seems you might be having a bit of a problem.”

The scientist turns so suddenly he nearly falls over. “Oh! Ella come here, you’re not safe with that… thing. We need to get back to safety. It will all be okay.”

“I’m not going with you.”

Galen frowns, glancing at Cooper but this isn’t his fight. He stands sentinel instead, ready to defend her if need be.

“Ella I-”

“Don’t call me that. I’m not… I’m not Ella - I’m an Ella. Some woman you created.”

“Now El-” Galen flinches when he sees her gun. “My dear, you know there was no point in encouraging any individuality - it would all be moot once you…” his gaze shoots to Cooper for a moment before he finishes, “grew up.”

She’s barely listening to him. “I’m not a person to you am I? None of us were. Just another number, another ella.”

“Please, you know I loved you. That I cared for you. All of you.”

“You never even gave us names,” she tells him softly, raising the gun to his head. “Even dogs have names.”

When they leave, they both have blood on their hands.

☢ ☢ ☢

For updates follow and turn on notifications for @brandyllyn-writes

#the ghoul #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #fallout series

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jacevelaryonswife · 2 years ago

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Kneel to the Empire or die with the Republic

A woman cannot be left alone to her own fate. After the fall of what you used to know, your only option was to kneel to him.

pairing: Young!Gaius Julius (Augustus Imperator) x Fem!reader

warnings and a note: angst, grief. This story is based on Domina (tv show), I don't have so much knowledge about the historical facts that involve Augustus, so, for those who have more baggage I'm sorry if something sounds wrong from what happened, please be kind, or just don’t read. English is not my first language. 3,8k

In addition to grief, other factors tightened your chest after your father's death. A good man, a faithful supporter of the Roman Republic and power of the Senate, a patrician descended from an important aristocratic lineage, and the most aggravating: one of those responsible for orchestrating the assassination of Gaius Iulius Caesar.

When the military forces of Gaius Julius, born Gaius Octavius, great-nephew of Julius Caesar, began to act in Rome, you knew you had few certainties and much to fear. Perhaps you were executed with your family, dying in an honorable way and with your head held high against a dictator (in the words of your older brother), or just having your traitorous blood eliminated by the defended cause of the heir of the most important man in Rome. They said he was different, a restorer of the Republic, a supporter of power in the hands of the people and the Senate, a middle ground between Caesar and the most avid Republicans. In those days, nothing was clearer to you than your death, however, Gaius Julius' stroke of mercy in sparing women and children from those considered enemies was at the same time a breath of relief and a punch in the lung.

Relief to the fact that you would have a chance to live, since the fear occurred when your brothers did not have the same luck when they were sentenced to death.

"What are we going to do?" You asked scared.

The two looked at each other for a considerable time, with Nero lowering his head before answering: "you will stay here and we are going to fight.”

“What? I can't stay here! There must be somewhere where his men don't find us."

"And how would you live? Running away forever? It's not the fate our father wanted for you." Claudius said.

"That's exactly what he would do instead of kneeling to a dictator, what do you expect me to do?"

“We are trying to protect you! There is no gentle future beyond these walls and I’m sure that Julius' men will still be less kind if they capture you," Nero said, exalting himself before holding your hands: "we cannot risk your life beyond ours, our father is not here, our allies are almost all dead, there is no hope for the three of us, but there may be for you."

The fall of tears marked your face until they flowed into the union of your hands. “I don't want to be alone,” you whined.

"You won’t”

It wasn't known at the time, but that was the last time you were with your brothers. The soldiers of Gaius Julius broke into your house the same night, looking closely for any fresh trail of male presence. The soldiers responsible for your safety were murdered without any chance of defense, with the exception of those who submitted quickly, fearful for their lives. You didn't judge them, how could you, after all?

When a man pressed you incisively on the whereabouts of your blood, shaking your shoulders rudely, an authoritarian voice interrupted him with a short message:

"Not her."

With wide eyes and irregular breathing, you were released immediately. The violence on the inside was mirrored on the outside, being the clearest reminder of those destined to die with the Republic. Your inert body remained in the sights of the man who guaranteed your release, the same facing you a few seconds after his order.

“My men will do your protection tonight,” he said.

The confusion in your frightened face was clear on the tip of your tongue when you asked a simple question:

"Why?" That didn't happen to other women.

"You'll know at the right time."

That's all the man said.

You remained static for long minutes after the departure of those who vandalized your home, with your father's servants — ordered by them — to remove the corpses from the house and sanitize the rooms to their original. Impossible. Doesn’t matter if the blood is removed, the death will be marked forever in each piece of furniture and corridor. One of the soldiers responsible for "your protection" approached with fear and touched your arm with delicacy, hitherto unknown to you, to get you out of the trance.

“We will assume from here, go back to rest,” he said.

"What's going to happen?" Your question was weak, almost like a meow.

"The house will be cleaned and the perimeter protected."

"From who? Why do you want to protect me?"

He remained silent for a few minutes before answering: "I'm not allowed to say."

Permission? What was going on? What was being planned for you? And by whom? Gaius Julius himself or one of his trusted men? Would you be held hostage? Would you marry any of them? Would it be sold as a slave or prostitute?

The rest of the night was spent in torment, with you pushing the internal lock of your door hard and putting on a clot to try to hide some jewels and coins with you in case you needed it and managed to escape. Sleeping was not an option, but a part of you wished that sleep would erase the horrors experienced and the departure of his brothers, so nervousness and fear partially succumbed to sleep. You allowed yourself to stay in the room a little longer that morning, ashamed of facing your servants and guards (no longer yours, but of the men of Gaius), only to receive a knock on the door of the same man you spoke to for the last time.

“I would like to sleep a little more,” you said through the door, afraid enough to open it.

His breathing was perfectly audible, followed by a moment of silence. "You will have some time, but you will need to leave soon to feed yourself and receive the lady Octavia's visit."

Octavia? Octavia Minor? Brother of Gaius Julius Caesar Octavianus? What the fuck was going on?

If there was any pretension of tiredness in you it was in a distant past, your mind had just been set on fire with what was going to happen, with what that woman might want with you. She was no stranger, visually speaking, since the glimpse of her red hair and elegant posture were seen by you at the wedding of Livia Drusila and Tiberius Claudius Nero. She, Scribonia, Marcus Vipsanius Agrippa and him, the reason for everything that is happening, with his hair and eyes dark as the night, with cheap charm and indecent actions.

You didn’t forget how you caught him having inadequate relations with Cicero's wife during the celebration, how he didn’t seem intimidated or embarrassed by his wide eyes, or how he went to you discreetly after your escape, so calm and carefree that it seemed unreal.

It's too unreal to have him by your side. Too unreal that he approached the daughter of one of the men responsible for the death of his great-uncle.

“I'm sorry you saw that, I should have chosen a place with a door,” he said when he settled comfortably standing next to him.

Your breath froze when you heard such a lack of respect, was he making fun of you?

"Don't worry, the time will come when you will do that for your husband," he provoked again, not receiving silence in response.

"Have you finished yet?" Your question was irritated, although low, without looking him in the eye.

"Yes, I did."

You didn't notice his pertinent choice of words, keeping yourself in the same place while waiting for him to leave.

“A beautiful thing like you deserve a better husband than Livia's,”

And so, he left your side.

Everything that preceded your departure from the room to the bath and to the food resulted in a constant tension in every room of your house. You felt eyes accompanied by you at all times, both from the soldiers of Gaius and from your father's slaves. It seemed that another series of murders would happen and was only prevented, for the time being, by the visit of the dictator's sister, which happened in the early afternoon.

A comforting smile directed to you was present before and after the hug given. "I'm sorry for what happened yesterday, the war usually gets the best of us."

That couldn't be said to her, you thought.

“Thank you.”

One of the guards guided the way to his father's conversation room, where there was some fruit and wine waiting. Quick flashes of happy memories made you walk slower before sitting next to her, it seemed like an eternity from full happiness, and maybe you would never fully recover it.

“Your house is quite beautiful,” Octavia began, looking around, “I always imagined it was, but it's different when being inside.”

“Has had better days,” you said apathetic, looking down.

Holding your hands, she held your chin to face her. “Again, I'm sorry for what happened. It has been a difficult period for all of us, on both sides, and I imagine that being alone in a world of men is more aggravating. That's why I'm here." Your silence made her continue, although she did not mention of stopping. "I believe you follow your father's ideas, perhaps not because you understand what a republic means, but because you accept what your blood believed-"

"I know what the republic means, just as I know what your brother is doing, but I don't think he came here to ask for my opinion," you interrupted her.

“Not an opinion, but a decision,” she rectified.

“And what decision is that?"

She looked down, displaying a strange smile as she took a deep breath. Her response took a while, as Octavia calmly took a bunch of grape in her hands and picked up a berry before resuming the subject.

"Your father's decision to delay choosing a suitor for you was quite risky for your reputation, rumors could have been made about your purity instead. I like to think he was kind, to the same extent as a fool. But maybe, all this time serves a greater purpose,” she took another break, waiting for you to guess, but everything seemed too absurd to unravel.

"What purpose?"

"A woman cannot be alone in the world, especially one with your birth. When the news that your brothers are gone is spread, men of all regions and ages have prowled your carcass and will force a marriage to get your dowry. Maybe some of your uncles or cousins, or any of them. I come here today to offer a better proposal than any of them: Gaius."

The self-control over your expressions was not well executed, since your eyes frowned and your mouth opened. No, it couldn't be. It was a fucking joke. How... how dare she?

"What?" You asked out loud. “Gaius? Your brother Gaius?"

"Yes, he in person." Octavia answered.

“Why? Why do you want me to marry him? Why me?"

“Although many claim that Gaius intends to end the Senate and Republic, this has already proved to be a fallacy. In his trajectory, he showed that he did not conquer power alone. In fact, the Senate is on its way to deliver this power to him, because it recognizes his virtues. He is a merciful man, who wishes to restore the Republics to their glory days.”

“Merciful?” You asked. “Where is the pity in sentencing my brothers to death? How nice would it be to marry the heir of the man my father helped kill? How good would it be to marry the man who is the reason why all this is happening?” Your voice came out exalted again.

Octavia, in turn, restricted herself to looking down. “All the men who remain in Rome will be supporters of Gaius, maybe yes, some dissatisfied rebel can remain, but in the end, their opinion will be worth nothing, so any husband they arrange for you will be loyal to my brother, it’s no less worse.”

“Gaius decreed the death of my brothers, that’s bad enough,” you answered.

“But what will be worse for you: to be unhappy with a bad stranger or to be the wife of a young sovereign leader? My brother was not very favorable to your family, but he would not do the atrocities that could happen to you being alone and vulnerable at this time.”

No answer was formulated by you, maybe a punch in the stomach would be preferable when facing your reality.

“Gaius himself suggested this idea,” she added.

Before or after declaring your brothers as enemies? How could he think of something like that? The memory of your family and your dignity was insulting! You would become what you wouldn’t like to say and that your father would vehemently deny.

“It’s a lot to assimilate, I know, so you have until the rest of the day to think about, tomorrow one of the soldiers will take your answer in writing,” Octavia said.

“No,” you said. “I’ll come to you. Papers can be tampered with, not my word. But I ask you to order your brother’s men not to touch any woman in this house during my absence.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

It was a deal. A marriage proposal by Gaius Julius Caesar. Not a request, an agreement, that’s what it was, an arrangement to improve his image. That was your function, to improve the lives of men, and unfortunately, even if you don’t choose it, there is no way to get out of this situation unscathed, because Octavia didn’t lie when she referred to the fate that awaited you. But that was worse, he was to blame for the chaos and violence that Rome witnessed, the reason why your home was destroyed. You were truly scared between choosing such options. They were all bad in many ways, but Gaius’s was disrespectful and humiliating. And yet you were still considering it. Was surviving so important?

Or was it that you were too cowardly to face your destiny. Between running away and getting married, you preferred death, but you were too cowardly to cut your throat. Maybe one of Gaius’ men could do this after you rejected the proposal, or Octavia herself could meet someone who messed with poisons. By the Gods, you were desperate.

“I don’t know what to do,” you told a personal servant while bathing.

You still didn’t know what to do when you went to sleep, when you woke up the next day, when you ate nothing more than a few grape berries, when you were taken to where Octavia was and when you faced her. You believed that years could pass and you would not yet have a concrete answer to that situation, but even so, the known evil (Gaius) seemed less worse than what could happen if you rejected it.

Even though it is a simple word, it has never been so difficult to make a statement before.

“Yes.”

You accepted him as yours.

Gaius’ sister’s smile was warm, wrapping your body in a hug while saying that from now on you would be sisters. Your dresses and goods would be sent to your new home, and a few maids could be taken too — at your insistence.

“We have our trusted servants, no need to worry,” Octavia said.

And then it became clear that the evaluation of his company was not only for capacity, but for loyalty and security.

“Gaius will be back soon, I’m sure he will be pleased with your presence here,” she said next. “You couldn’t have chosen better.”

Choices. No, you didn’t want to keep torturing yourself by thinking about the other options.

However, a curious fact was noticed by you in the days that followed in Gaius’ house, under the company of Octavia and other ladies: they would die to be in your position. Or rather, they would kill to be the wife of the next leader of Rome. It was one of the certainties you came to believe, Gaius Julius would not lose the war and those women would do anything to be in youe place. The feeling of danger that filled you on the other days was terrifying, restless and too tense to remain surrounded by other people. Turning to Octavia about the possibility of being poisoned, she eased your fears by saying that everything that arrived on your plate was tasted by others noticed. It wasn’t so comforting when you realized that people could die for you. No, that was insanity. Everything related to what you were living was insanity.

Long days and long nights were bathed in fear in your new home, but nothing compared when the news of his return echoed through the walls. Next to your faithful friends, men, family and servants, there you were, in the center, next to your new sister. The smile that stamped his front was raised when he saw your serious and nervous figure waiting for him. The son of a bitch looked like he had won the biggest of the prizes. And in fact, he did it, after all, his image was built for that.

For the reconstruction of the Republic.

No word of his speech was heard by you, just waiting for such torment to end. But the celebrations were just beginning. At first, he did not go directly to meet you, but in the middle of the night, when you were away for too long in a distant room, he approached surreptitiously with gentle steps.

“Even though it was a generous proposal, a large part of me thought you would refuse it,” he said, calm with a breeze.

A sigh was your first reaction.

“A large part of me thought about refusing.”

He stood next to you, or in front of you (depending on the perspective) in the hallway.

“And what made you change your mind?”

“I don’t know,” you replied.

“Don’t you know?”

“No, I don’t know.”

“So why are you here?”

“I was afraid of being alone, not that I’m not at the moment. Not that the other option was less worse, in fact, both were bad enough.”

“And what was the other option?” He asked with a mixture of humor, surprise and curiosity with his sincere answer.

“Your sister can answer that.”

He didn’t hold his smile this time, even if weak and nasal. After that, he was silent for a while, posture changing up before speaking even lower:

“I’m sorry for your brothers.” Perhaps it would have been better to have been silent since your only reaction was to walk in the same direction that he came, leaving him behind, or trying. “Wait, wait! I’m sorry, it was something stupid to say.” He held your arm firmly, but without being rude, as he got even closer.

“Yes, it was,” you agreed and showed the frown you fought so hard to disguise.

“There was nothing to do about them,” he confessed.

“No? Did your supporters say that or was it your idea to declare them as enemies?” You asked (accused) him.

“Would they accept to be loyal to me?”

Of course not.

“I thought you was doing this for the people and the Senate, to restore the Republic,”

“And I am, but would they accept this if it was done by me?”

You smiled with mockery, looking the other way and leaving him unanswered.

“I know you have enough reasons not to trust me, or hate me, but I don’t intend to fail as a husband, and I don’t intend to disrespect you,” he said, trying to soften.

“Just like you disrespected Cicero?” You remembered the incident at Livia’s wedding.

It was his turn to sigh, releasing your arm to hold your hand.

“Cívero married her because her family is rich. That’s why everyone gets married: money, power and family. That the only thing that’s matter.”

“That’s why we’re getting married. Money, power and family,” you said bitterly.

“Yes, it’s. But I know it wasn’t an easy decision fot you to make.”

If your conscience wasn’t trying to push him away, you could have noticed a certain compassion in his beautiful eyes.

“No, you don’t know. You don’t.” That was too much, no, it was an excess of what you could handle. “You have no idea what it’s been like to live with this burden. The people I loved are dead and I feel that at any moment I will be next, and I will still marry you. No, you don’t know how I feel. My father would bitterly deny me if I were alive, my brothers too, because I’m going to marry you, because I’m a fucking traitor!” Tears collapsed violently from your eyes. “Because I have nothing else, there’s nothing left.”

Oh no. He advanced on you with a tight hug, holding your head against his chest. “It’s ok, it’s ok, you’ll be fine, I promise, I’m sorry, I’m sorry for all this. I promise I won’t betray you, I promise, I’m sorry.”

You didn’t know how many tears you had saved for that moment, for him. Because of him. You couldn’t imagine leaning over to seek comfort in him, squeezing him so hard to prevent him from running away. But he wouldn’t go anywhere, no, he wouldn’t. He wrapped you in a cocoon while holding the back of your head. The inconvenient thought that incriminated him for your situation was unpleasant to deal with, for him, and unconsciously, for you, a small relief was present in the back of your mind because no one was around.

“I promise you, nothing less than respect. I can’t get back what was lost, but I can guarantee new things,” he said when you calmed down.

“I don’t need jewelry, Gaius, or dresses, or maids. I already have that, I’ve always had it,” you countered it.

“I’m not talking about material goods. Some things need interference to be solved, others can be remedied by time, or mitigated. I don’t intend to put pressure or do little of you, I know it wouldn’t work, and that’s not how I want to solve things between us. I hope one day you can forgive me, I’ll be waiting for that.”

Taking a risk by kissing your forehead with affection was dangerous, but touching your lips was off limits. He has waited so long for you, since he saw your wide eyes and beautiful face at Livia Drusilla’s wedding. A beautiful girl from an important family, the same family involved in the size of her great-uncle, yet a beautiful girl to have by his side. He knows it was cruel to have made such a proposal, but it would be even more cruel to leave you for your luck. He could not allow this, not when your fragility was exposed to him in a more frighteningly palpable way, not when even in suffering you confronted him. Call him a fool or hopeful, but he believed that eventually, taking time or not, you would be totally his.

The confusion was evident in your eyes when he felt for the first time the slight landing of soft and gentle lips against your own. His lips... kissing you. Your eyes closed in the final seconds, before a whispered statement was sworn to you in a serious and masculine tone:

“Everything will be fine.”

————————

I didn’t like this as much as I imagined.

general taglist: @chompchompluke

tag for this fic: @lovelykhaleesiii @arcielee

#gaius julius x reader #young!gaius julius x reader #domina hbo #tom glynn carney #gaius octavius x reader #gaius julius caesar #emperor augustus #fanfiction #tom glynn

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hogoflight · 1 year ago

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WHAT IF APOLLO KEPT DISOBEYING ZEUS AND HE HAD ENOUGH AND WENT “FINE THEN!! I’LL TURN YOU INTO SOMETHING THAT CAN’T TALK!!” AND HE GETS TURNED INTO A TALKING OBJECT*.

*Arrow of Dodona rules apply.

Cannot decide which one I like more:

Bow bc he’s Apollo ofc. But also so he could have BEEF with the arrow of Dodona (alright fine also maybe romantic tension for YOU out there. You know who you are. Bow x arrow). This could also be neat as a convenient Segway into bringing along an Apollo kid (to use the bow) and making them spend more time with each other. And exploring a lot more of the “Apollo being an absent father” and the effect it’s had on his kids AND his dedication and willingness to show them he loves them so so much AND HIS PROMISE TO DO BETTER!!

However also: a different sword for Meg. Acts as both an emotional out from Nero (Apollo talking to her, being her bestie) and as a metaphorical out (learning that she can succeed and thrive without the weapons given to her by Nero and the fighting style he made her develop to execute people etc. so he can’t manipulate her by going “you can’t live without me… look at everything I did for you…” etc. Also focusing more on self-defence instead of brutality, etc.) also we get sunflower siblings!!

It’s so funny to think about a version where everything is exactly the same but Apollo is just an object now. Eg the three-legged race but Meg is loosely tied to Apollo who is being dragged on the floor. His kids gently tuck in a bow into bed (he is crying and. And. And. Quiveri-). The sea serpent in the dark prophecy trying their darnedest to strangle a sword. Need I go on.

What if he also speaks in horrible Shakespearean and will not stop swearing HE’S SO SO ANGRY. but I also like him speaking exclusively languages that have historically been spoken nationally across Greece. But also English with a heavy Greek accent.

Commodus is throwing knives at a target but the picture is just of a bigger knife.

The wielder of Apollo goes “he keeps bothering me with his cursed whispers.” “Please please please stick a cucumber under Seymour’s big cat head I despise him! In fact I hate all cats because they remind me of myself. OHO, WHOOPS let me explain-“

WHEN MEG SEES APOLLO AS A PHYSICAL PERSON FOR THE FIRST TIME. SHE’S LIKE “YOU’RE REAL.” “YEAH??” “I can punch you for real now.” AND THEN THEY HUG :(((((

#apollo #toa #toa cursed weapon au #Dadpollo #meg mccaffrey #commodus

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thisreadswhatever · 1 year ago

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Anything For The Club: Part Four

series masterlist

[description]: jax teller x fem!reader, nero padilla x fem!reader, oc characters x fem!reader

[wordcount]: 1.2k+

[summary]: Things start heating up after you receive a threatening phone call.

[series cw]: 18+ minors do not interact! female reader, swearing, sexual harassment/assault (non-canon characters), alcohol use, mix of fluff, smut and angst throughout, p in v sex, teasing, violence, gun use, mentions of blood, murder, blackmail

Nero spent the next few hours poking fun at your office escapades, highly amused at the whole thing. It wasn’t the first time you and Jax had fucked in your office, but the first time everyone realised it was happening when you were in the act. You continued to work as usual, and The Club headed out for some business.

You were trying to avoid Mandy and her questions about the letter as best as you could, so you decided to spend the rest of the evening on the front desk, greeting clients and assisting the girls in assigning their rooms.

The front desk was always easy going. The phones never really rang in Diosa, only the occasional caller interested in opening times or room availability. So when the phone did ring, you always had the girls answer it. Sofia was one of the front desk staff who had been working at Diosa for only a few weeks now, she was young, blonde and always overly cheerful to everyone she met. She answered the call, before turning to look at you, holding the phone against her chest to avoid the caller from hearing her speak. “It’s for you, y/n. Says we are overdue on an invoice for maintenance services.”

“It’s almost midnight, they’re calling about a payment now?” Sofia shrugged her shoulders, and extended the phone to you. You took it from her, and placed it to your ear.

“Y/N speaking, can I help you?”

“Ah, just the voice I wanted to hear.”

You instantly recognised his voice from the night before. You felt goosebumps cover your whole body and a sickening feeling twisted in your gut. You shifted away from the incoming clientele, trying to avoid any eavesdroppers hearing you.

“Why the fuck are you calling here? If I wasn’t clear enough, you and your crew are no longer welcome at Diosa”, you were hostile in tone despite the fact you were whispering.

“Relax, sweetheart. Only wanted to ask you on a date.”

“Listen asshole, I’m not interested. Don’t ever call this number again.” You slammed the phone in the holder, but your hand never left it. You stood there, hand on the phone hook, frozen in shock at the audacity of this man. He was taunting you, first the letter, now this? What the fuck did he want?

The phone rang again and you answered it briskly, “I just told you to not fucking-”

“Shut the fuck up and listen. Otherwise your pretty President is going away for a long time.”

You didn’t respond.

“Good girl. You can take instructions after all. Now listen to me carefully. Tomorrow you’re gonna be at the diner just outside of Charming, Highway 23. Tell a member of SAMCRO and they all go to prison for exchanging AK’s across the Mexican border. This ain’t a bluff. If you aren’t there tomorrow, Jax and his shitty little club goes down for life. Do you understand me?”

You wanted to respond, but you couldn’t get your mouth to move. You were utterly broken in shock, with no repair in sight.

“Do you understand me?” he repeated.

“Yes.”

“Good girl. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow. Wear a sexy dress for me.”

The line hung up.

Fear had frozen you solid to your core, a feeling you hadn’t ever experienced before. Nothing usually scared you. Until now.

“Who was that?” Nero appeared behind you, making you jump. He placed his hand on your shoulder, leaning in to meet your eyes, “Easy ese, are you good?”

You swallowed back the lump that had forged in your throat. “An overdue invoice I forgot to settle. I’ll figure it out tomorrow.” Your voice cracked as you spoke.

“At this time of night? Who's the bill for?” You really didn’t need Nero’s interrogation right now.

“Maintenance. Guess they really need their money.”

“If there’s somethin’ you’re not telling me.. I can’t help you if I don’t know. We’re partners, remember?”

“Everything’s fine. Can you lock up again tonight? Jax left his keys and can’t get into the house.”

He narrowed his eyes, not buying the story you were pushing. “Get back to Jax, I can handle it tonight.” “Thanks, Nero.”

You practically ran out of Diosa, fumbling with your keys as your hands couldn’t keep up with your brain. As you drove home, you kept replaying his words in your head. He must want money, you told yourself. Why else would this guy be so up your ass? What was he getting out of threatening the club?

You recalled what Nero had told you last night, Vagos was a crew involved with the cartels south of the border. You didn’t doubt with those connections that he could have dirt to bring down The Club. You figured he must’ve seen Diosa and thought The SONS were raking it in, and he must want a piece of that. It still didn’t make sense why he would want you to be the cash mule, when it was known old lady’s had nothing to do with club business. The Club couldn’t get you out of this one, and you sure as hell couldn’t tell Jax.

Your ears were still ringing from his words, Club goes down for life. You weren’t ever going to let that happen.

You were hoping you were home early enough that Jax would still be at the clubhouse. As you pulled on the drive, you saw the hallway light was on, and he was home.

You signed to yourself, “fuck.”

You weren't sure how you could see him without him realising something was going on. Jax could read your face from a mile away.

When you got into the house, he was at the kitchen table, shirt off and covered in oil, as he wrote in his journal. He was surprised to see you, smiling ear to ear. “Hey darlin’, what are you doing home so early?” He stood from the table and embraced you, kissing you like you hadn’t been sprawled across your office desk for him that same afternoon.

“Quiet night. Nero said he could handle it.”

He peered down at you in his arms, before kissing you on the head. “I’m glad you’re back now, I was just finishing up and then gonna shower. Wanna join me? Round two?” He grinned at you and rubbed his nose against yours.

“Actually, Jax, I’m pretty tired. I was just hoping to get to bed.”

He pulled from your embrace, holding you at arms length, searching your face for what was wrong.

“Something’s up with you.”

You were pleading with his eyes for him to let it go. “I just don’t feel great. I’m fine.” It felt so wrong lying to him.

He didn’t let up, eyes completely locked with yours as he stood back. “What aren’t you telling me?”

You shook your head, hoping you could sell your lies well enough for him to back off. “Nothing, Jax. I’m okay. Just had a long few days and I’m kinda run down. But I’m okay, trust me.”

He pulled you in again, pressing your face against his chest, your cheek rubbing against his warm chest.

“Alright, I'll join you in a bit.”

You stood on your toes to reach his face, planting a kiss on his lips.

“Love you.”

“Love you more, darlin’.”

You hastily walked to the bedroom and shut the door behind you. He could see straight through you. He knew you were hiding something, he just couldn’t figure out what it was you were keeping from him.

———

part five

find my masterlist here

#jax teller #reads writes #jax teller fic #jax teller imagine #jax teller x reader #jax teller x y/n #sons of anarchy #jax teller fiction #soa #sons of anarchy fic #fanfic #jackson teller

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dictatortirah · 25 days ago

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Gura x Nero for the Squirm fans

I wrote da first draft and @jestbii made everything better and gayer

---

“Whelp, that’s another job well done, Nero!” Hemlock proclaimed, clapping their hands together triumphantly- a cloud of chalk puffing from their hand, mostly to hide fingerprints. It erupted a sneeze from their snout, rather embarrassingly as they immediately faced away to deal with it.

Nero let out a weary groan that filled the air, his body protesting as he yanked the hatchet free from the cultist’s lifeless form beneath him, which was in the worst of state, considering death via hatchet was on today's menu. The force of the tugging nearly sent him tumbling backward, but he had quickly steadied his lumber body, glancing down in disgust at the grim sight before him. This never did get any easier…and it reminded him of very bad times. Blood pooled around the body like dark ink on parchment, and he couldn’t help but hope fervently that this cultist would stay dead- they’ve come back before, after all. With a final, forceful tug, he freed the hatchet, its blade slick and glistening in the dim light.

His jacket was ruined, splattered with crimson chunks and remnants of the awful task adorning his whole entire body. Even if he wasn’t a fashionista like Vitr, it were up to him, he would never allow himself to get this dirty again. I mean, he had promised Sniper he’d leave killing behind—especially after his past experiences in the cult’s twisted rituals. He still thought about those sometimes at night…well, at least until he showed up. Besides that, the thought made him shudder. Never again would he go back to those days.

He glanced at Hemlock, his boss, who was scanning the area for any witnesses around the area, obviously a bit frantic. They nearly got caught last time, and things like this would surely cost them their citizenship- or lives. The act of assessing their surroundings with every darting eye made a wave of dizziness wash over Nero, whoever, and he suddenly realized just how exhausted he truly was. Days of tension and sleepless nights had taken their toll on his already sick and weak body. He wobbled over to Hemlock, who noticed his unsteady gait and caught him as he nearly collapsed against him. Jesus, what had gotten into this man?

“Damn, Nero! I didn’t think this one would wear you out this much!” Hemlock exclaimed, alarm flashing across their wrinkled face as they steadied Nero quite carefully, brushing imaginary dirt from his shoulder. All this did was slather their hand in the all too familiar blood, however…Nero swayed slightly, struggling to regain his balance. “You don’t look so good. Worse than usual…and that’s sayin’ something, since you usually look like shit.”

In a sudden, impulsive gesture, Hemlock yanked off Nero’s hat, causing the sickened man to flinch in confusion and near offense. It was a move that always annoyed him; yet it happened almost every single day! It felt like a violation of his personal space—unless, of course, it was someone special doing it. He wouldn’t retaliate or anything, though- he respected hemlock and he was also much too tired to deal with it.

“Hey! Why did you—”

“Nero! When was the last time you slept?” Hemlock’s eyes bore deeply into him, concern etched deep into their wrinkled features. “Your eye—one of them looks like it’s about to pop out! No wonder you’ve been slacking lately. Jesus, boy, haven’t I told you to sleep?” They had asked, gripping the hat, almost in frustration yet mostly concern.

“I’m fine—” Nero stuttered, admittedly shocked from Hemlock's concern…he’d be heart warmed, if he hadn’t been fading in and out of consciousness as they spoke.

Scoffing, Hemlock held their temple. “No, you’re not. I don’t trust you to go home and rest once we wrap up here. I hate that you make me do this, but dammit, I’m sendin’ you home myself!” Hemlock declared firmly, stomping their foot to emphasize their point, firm in their decision. Nero was their best worker, after all…in fact, one of the only ones.

Nero wasn’t going to have this, though-

“What?!” Panic surged through Nero, and he quickly recoiled, snatching his hat back from the worried boss of his. That was unnecessary! What if Sniper asked Hemlock about their work? What if Hemlock released all of the details of their excursion? The blood smeared on both the detective's jackets would certainly raise questions, that was for sure, no matter how blind that bunny was! He instinctively took a step back, distancing himself from Hemlock, mostly out of discomfort.

Realization dawned on Hemlock as they noticed Nero’s distress. Oh…Nero probably wouldn’t like it very much having his boss roam around his place, huh? Especially with the little friend he had…Hemlock paused, before sighing, rubbing their head out of discomfort and embarrassment..

“Agh, don’t worry about it, bud. We’ll wash up first. I’ll just have your little rabbit friend make sure you get some rest, you worrywart. Now, let’s go.” Hemlock began to head toward the nearby river, and Nero hesitated, trailing behind quite awkwardly. He felt a bit bad for being so quick to react, but there were more pressing matters in his mind…

“But…But I can’t go to bed.”

Hemlock halted, turning to face him. A look of puzzlement adorned their face, yet they never shifted their body to turn to him. What was he on about ?

“And why not? You’ve got a bed at home, don’t you!”

“Uh… y-yes, but.it’s because I…” Nero’s voice trailed off sheepishly, his head pounding. He felt dizzy again, nearly tripping over his own feet. He was clumsy, yes, but…his vision began to fizzle out, and things were becoming hard to discern. Had that been a bush he was approaching, or was it Hemlock?

Hemlock, having now fully turned towards the dizzy busybody, was currently studying him, concerned deepening in their gaze yet again. “Ah…yer an insomniac, huh? I’ve had my bouts of insomnia before. I have the proper meds for it. I’ll tell your friend to give them to you once we get home. Okay? Okay. Come on. We need to hurry..” they mumbled, turning, a bead of sweat dripping down their head from stress.

As Hemlock began washing off their coat with urgency, Nero followed hesitantly, the cool water splashing against his face doing very, very little to clear his muddled and messy mind. He cursed silently, repeating the motions in a futile attempt to wash away the grime—both literal and metaphorical. But, no matter how much he slapped his face with cupped hands of water, it never did anything besides cause him to shudder..

Insomnia. Yeah, right.

He had been depriving himself of sleep for a reason that weighed heavily on his heart- and his weakened mind. It had been three days—maybe four—since he last even closed his eyes or gotten a lick of sleep. And, guess what? Gura hadn’t visited him in dreams since then- and to put it plainly, he just couldn’t. It wasn’t possible. However, with each passing night, the pressure of the worm’s gaze loomed larger in his mind, paranoia gnawing at his every thought, his body shutting down due to the lack of sleep. Was Gura watching him, lurking in the shadows? How much longer would he hold out against the creeping dread of sleep? Would he ever be free from that piercing gaze? And those rough hands that would plunge him into the darkness?

Nero shook his head, fighting against the wave of anxiety, not wanting to appear pitiful in front of his boss. What could he say to convince Hemlock he was fine, and that he didn’t need sleep? He feared that if he succumbed, he’d awaken in the warm embrace of Gura’s fluffy ever sprawling tendrils, and the thought alone sent a shiver down his spine.

…Fluff. Even if he didn’t like it, he couldn’t help but think of the comfort it brought him, being wrapped in the fluffy embrace of the multicolored fur…suddenly, the prospect of sleep felt enticing, as if Gura’s hands were beckoning him, pulling him into the deity’s soft, vibrant form…where Nero belonged.

He hated to admit it, but..he missed Gura. He envied the thought of.

“Nero, seriously, Jesus Christ, are you okay?” Hemlock’s voice cut through his spiraling thoughts like a sharp kitchen knife slicing a soft tomato, causing Nero to jerk up. Nero looked down, realizing his hands were trembling, his vision blurring, the ultimatum of his deprivation finally flowing through his body. Exhaustion was finally catching up with him; his body was on the verge of shutting down, and god did it feel awful.

“I-I’m..yawn…I’m..fine..”

No… he couldn’t let himself fall asleep, not now and not ever again. Gura would be furious with him, and he’d never let him live it down. But, no matter how much Nero fought, the forceful feeling of the worm’s presence loomed closer, waiting for the moment he had surrendered to darkness, ready to be snatched up.

Ultimately, the man could no longer run. As his thoughts twisted in a downward spiral, his weak and shaky legs buckled beneath him, and he collapsed onto the ground, right on the bank of the river. The last thing he heard before surrendering to unconsciousness was Hemlock’s frantic voice calling out to him, being shaken with the grip of a worried boss-

---

And as suddenly as it all went downhill, with just a few mere seconds, he was awake again.

“Nero… Oh, Nero!” Called a cocky, alluring voice.

Panic flared in the man’s tightened chest. No, no..

“Do you really think you can hide from me forever, Nero? Hehehe..aren’t you a cutie pie?”

Dammit…he let it happen…again.

Nero took a deep, shaky breath, steeling himself before opening his eyes. He knew it was coming, but he’d never truly be able to handle it…

The worm god loomed above him, his eyes swirling with an intense fury that filled and coursed through his elongated body, hands on his hips in sassy manner. Gura had a way of making himself appear larger when he was angry, his immense form casting a shadow that felt oppressive…yet, Nero couldn’t force himself to be scared of the God before him.

Even if he wasn’t scared, an odd sense of exasperation coursed through Nero, but he forced himself to maintain his composure. He wouldn’t let this cocky God get the upper hand…not again, and hopefully, never again.

“H-Hey, Gura,” he said, trying in a nonchalant tone. “So, uh… it’s been a while.”

“Been a while?!” Gura’s voice boomed as he circled Nero like a predator assessing its prey, sizing him up to see just how well he could devour him. “So, you tried to avoid sleeping to avoid ME for FIVE days? And when your body finally shuts down, you act this cocky with me?! I never thought you’d be such a fool…and so harsh to me, too. Oh, and I’m not going to pretend I haven’t noticed you KILLING my cultists!”

A hand shot out, gripping Nero’s quivering jaw and forcing him to look directly into Gura’s eyes, grinding his soft fur covered fingers along the goats mouth, feeling his gums. “Look at me when I’m talking to you, toy.”

Nero scoffed, forcing himself to meet Gura’s spiraling gaze, eyes darting as his hands gripped at anything he could- which had happened to be Guras own arm. Despite the rage flickering in the deity’s eyes, a strange calm washed over him as their gazes locked, and Nero’s breath hitched as the pit in his stomach slowly but surely dissipated. The moment lingered before Gura snarled, growling, shoving Nero’s jaw back and sending him tumbling into something soft and plush, causing Nero to audibly yelp!

He gasped as he landed, recognizing the familiar sensation of Gura’s fluffy form slowly enveloping his body, wrapping around every part of him in a warm, soft hug. A part of him revealed in the comfort, fingers instinctively sinking into the warmth, squeezing and shuddering.

Gura turned away momentarily, muttering to himself in frustration, and after a pause, he had faced Nero again..a giggle crawling out of the deity's throat, and his once harsh scowl morphed into a teasing grin.

“Oh, Nero! Where are my manners? Now that I have you in my grasp, we might as well make our time worthwhile. We have plenty to talk about. Plenty...”

With a swift motion, Gura coiled around Nero, forcing him to sit down along his…stomach? This god was truly hard to understand, his stomach could be just about anywhere with just how infinite his body had seemingly been. A part of his body shifted upwards, bending into a makeshift table, balancing two cups and a teapot for them to share. Gura loved being able to mess with Nero with this..it entertained him.

“U-Ugh, seriously, again with this?” Nero grumbled, glancing up to find Gura’s sharp gaze locked on him. The worm’s grin was wide, but the anger still simmered beneath the surface, making Nero uneasy. He shrunk into himself, but the fur only scraped along the intimated man’s body once again, and he let out a yelp from the sheer feeling of it.

“Hm..well, then, let’s catch up,” Gura said, taking a sip from one of the cups..although, he had recoiled, as he was never very good at brewing his own tea, quick to set the cup back down and lean forward, hands folded beneath his chin. “This past week, you’ve successfully killed three of my disciples with that godd of yours…Impressive, I must say. Trying to thwart my plans as usual, I see… You’ll never stop being such a pain, will you?” He leaned closer, his face inches from Nero’s, their breaths hitting one another’s, the tensions in the room enough to cut with a knife.

“Killing is what my cult endorses, isn’t it? Aren’t you a little afraid of becoming like them again? Hah, you’d do good in my cult..wearing a little robe, whispering my name..”

Flustered, Nero interjected- “A-Absolutely not! I know what I’m doing,” Nero shot back, his voice stronger than he felt. In reality, he felt..soft..this fur was soft. But still, he fought back, much braver sounding that he really was in his heart.

“Ugh..If it takes a bit of blood spillage to stop you, then so be it…I’ll never let you lay a finger on the people I care about.”

Gura sighed, feigning an overly exaggerated exasperation, hand along on his temple. “Still playing the hero, huh? You really are a pain. Why don’t you just drop it and join me…?” His hands began to grip upwards along Nero’s body, causing him to writhe in the most playful ways... Gura loved the yelps Nero made…as his hands tugged all along Nero’s body, Nero grimaced, shuddering.

“W-well… wouldn’t it be easier for you to just kill me? Get it over with, huh?” Nero stammered, feeling the shift in the air, causing him to uncomfortably writhe in the deities grasp. He could sense where this was headed, and he didn’t like it…it was all too familiar.

“…Kill?” Gura repeated, raising an eyebrow, intrigued. He never really thought of killing Nero, before…but his implications of the want excited him. “Hah, you think I’d want to kill you?”

“Yeah…yeah, you could’ve killed me since day one- But you chose not to, isn’t that right?” Nero pressed, a spark of defiance igniting within him. He knew gura hated when he became bratty like this..

“While I was… staying up, I noticed things. Whenever Mallet is about to finish me off, you stop him…you may not be able to speak to me, but you keep me alive. You don’t want me to die. Are you that weak?”

Gura’s expression darkened, but he pulled Nero even closer, his grip tightening. His hands, coiled around Nero’s squirming body, gripped and tugged against his clothing, hands squeezing and digging at his calves and gliding along the man’s thin waist to earn a shudder or two.

“Hah..you always bite back when you never should. You know I don’t like it when you fight back..but, oh, if you think you’re so clever, why not keep talking?”

Nero gulped, hands twitching as he tried his best to look away, biting his lower lip.

Jesus Christ, he hated when gura acted like this..so malicious, and he always knew exactly where to touch to irritate the man more and more.

“U-uh… i’m just saying how…i- i uh….” He gave up quite quickly, his bravado shattering under the stress of the direction. He may have accidentally dug his own grave…

Gura began to giggle, knowing he won…oh, Nero was so adorable like this!

“Oh, baby, that’s what I thought. You’re always so much more obedient to your god than you’d like to admit.” A single hand trailed down Nero’s cheek, grazing down to his collarbone to tap it, trailing as he brought his head in to smell Nero’s fear.

“Haha..you’re still lovable as always, Nero… if you won’t say it, then i will.”

An arm slowly began to coil around Nero’s neck. “I hate you, Nero. But that’s what makes you so very, very entertaining to me…and I can’t have you dying on me when things are about to get fun.. Death is an escape for you mortals. And I don’t want you to escape just yet. The satisfaction of death…only I need to give you satisfaction.” Another coiled around Nero’s body, the hand lying on his waist squeezing his body in the most rough way he could.

“You’ve ruined my plans so many times, my little disciple…and I think a punishment is due. And what’s a better punishment than being my little punching bag for the night? heheh..” he trailed his long, snake-like tongue along Nero’s cheek, tasting the sweat beads like a primal beast as Nero groaned and recoiled in disgust. Even he had standards!

Nero placed his hand on the arm coiled around his neck, tugging, but the arm remained firmly. “S-so now you want to spend more time with me?” Nero forced a chuckle. “I didn’t think you missed me that much...let me go, I’m not plaything..”

“Mmg..shut it.” The arm suddenly tightened around his neck, causing him to choke and gag, legs flailing slightly against the Gods fields of fur.

“Nero…Last I heard…dolls don’t talk back.”

As Nero struggled against him, Gura laughed, clearly enjoying himself and the power he dominated over Nero’s body. He missed seeing Nero like this. Begging for mercy, writhing, squirming… “Besides being entertaining, you’re valuable to me. You have something I want…. Your smarts- your mind. And I’m not letting you walk out there freely while holding what should be mine..” “O-oh really..? Hf… give me all you got. I’m not ever going to give in to you.” Nero retorted, disheveled into breathless groans, his eyes daring.

“My, my..You can keep trying to struggle, Nero. But I can do this forever if I wanted to.” The worm snickered, his face now an inch close to Nero’s, a smirk along his face as his heart raced. “Not even old age can save you from this one, boy..forever and ever you’ll be mine..my disciple to play with, and mine to devour the fear from as much as I please.”

The coiling arm around his neck suddenly released its tantalizing grasp on the man’s neck, and Nero took a deep gasp and caught his breath- but, before he could think of a smart retort, hands held his cheeks, and the worm suddenly forced him into a kiss.

An oddly sweet scent filled the man’s nose as Guras fingers dug deep and tender into his cheek, the worm squeezing and rubbing along Nero’s stomach and chest to put him in a snake-like death lock. Gura loved how Nero fought back..with groans and hisses between every slip of their lips. It drove the deity mad with empowerment.

Nero struggled at first, but quickly gave in. It had been a while…and he couldn’t help but love the utter excitement he derived from the attention, their lips pressing in a confusing symphony of lust and toxicity.

And, after a moment, Gura had pulled back, and left them both breathing heavily as if they had just ran a marathon. Gura loved seeing Nero’s grumpy face after a kiss, his pouting lip made him seem adorable.

With a whine, Nero glanced back into the worm's spiraling eyes…and, as he gripped the Gods snout, he sighed, leaning in to press their foreheads together.

“Fine…I may have missed you..a little.”

#welcome to gleamfolk city #squirm #fic #writing

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