#no nun sightings though thank fuck

[weekindecember]

i work at a kids museum and today we had a halloween event and there was a kid dressed as the rainbow skeleton and a dad wearing the dan baby outfit. truly nowhere is safe

[brokebonewritings]

Bless Me, Father

Priest! Matt Murdock x afab! reader

Tags/Warnings: 18+, violence, smut, mention of religion, hurt/comfort

Summary: Seeking a priest for guidance. You just weren't expecting this priest to be an ex, and a vigilante.

Word Count: 4.2K

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A/N: This was written for a really dear friend of mine. I love them a lot, and I hope they love this story just as much! Pair this fic with A Question of Lust by Depeche Mode and Church by Chase Atlantic.

You walk into the church slowly as you think about what you would say. The cold bitter air pricks your nose, immediately warming as you step into the sanctuary. It’s been a long time since you have been here, though you feel comforted by the environment. Setting your bag and scarf on a pew, you walk towards the confessional booth and step inside quietly. You inhale and exhale before speaking to the priest on the other side.

“Bless me, father, for I have sinned.” You start. Hearing him shift in the booth next to you, you continue on. “It has been 3 months, and 15 days since my last confession.”

You continue to tell him about things you have done in the past few months. About things you feel are wrong, and how it makes you feel. How you felt shunned by your family for expressing your personal thoughts and interests. You begin to tear up as you finish speaking.

He sits for a moment before speaking. The air felt tight around you as you anticipated his voice.

“My child, there is no reason to weep.” His voice was soothing, much like a cup of hot chocolate. He continues. “What you are feeling about yourself is not wrong. You are on a journey of self discovery. Embrace it, and those who shun you will see the butterfly they mistook for a caterpillar. There is no penance for you today.”

You glance over at him, and catch a glimpse at the young priest. He looked stiff, as if he were a mannequin. You nod at his words and wipe the tears from your eyes. Stating the absolution, you thank him and step out of the booth. 

Lingering for a moment, you took in sight of the beautiful cathedral. Nothing felt more peaceful than the quietness of the church. A few nuns were staggered in the pews or kneeling at the altar. The smell of sweet incense flowed through the air.

Turning to look over your shoulder, you see the priest step out of the booth and turn his head in your direction. He smiles and makes his way towards you to walk you out.

“I haven’t seen you here in a long time, y/n” He starts, you can tell he was shifting uncomfortably.

“Yeah, it has been a while huh?” You avert your gaze to the wood flooring. “Not since our breakup” 

He winces at that comment. You didn’t have mal intent behind it. Just stating the fact. It had been a nasty one at that. He wanted to become a priest, and you wanted to have a family. Simple as that.

“Listen if you ever need to talk…” He sighs. “You know where you can find me.”

“Sure, sure. For godly insight I suppose?” You mutter. “Since when did Father Lantom step down?”

“About a month ago. I was appointed here personally.” Seeing the grip he held on his cane, you decided to take your leave. Not wanting to further the conversation before it got too awkward.

“I, uhm, have to head to work. Those court documents are not gonna write themselves, I guess.”

“Right. Well. Hopefully I will see you back again soon..” He said, giving a curt nod before you turn to leave. “And, God be with you, y/n”

“God be with you too, Father Murdock.”

“He WHAT?!”  Karen whispered in your shared office. She really was your closest friend so obviously you had to tell her.

“Right! So he was my ex from college which was so long ago, but god we were so in love.” You crossed your arms in defeat. “How could he look even better now?!”

“Oh no! You cannot go running back to that ‘used to be good’ feeling.” She stood and crossed to you. “Did you forget that, HE’S A FUCKING PRIEST.”

“I KNOW!” You huff. You were perfectly content without the knowledge of Matt actually achieving his dream. Sure it was extremely selfish of you to think, but he did break your heart. No wonder you hadn’t heard anyone talk about him, he basically fell off the face of the earth. Lost in thought, you hardly noticed when your boss approached your office.

“What’s up guys? What’s the hot gossip?”

You look up to see your boss, Foggy, leaning against the doorframe. Hardly a boss though, he liked to consider himself a friend to everyone in the office. 

“y/n wants to fuck a priest!” Karen casually said. You gasped loudly at her sudden statement, and stood up from your chair.

“I never said that!”

“Woah, didn’t see that one coming.” Foggy chuckled at the response. “Why a priest though?”

You roll your eyes as you lean against your desk. “It was a really long time ago okay? And he definitely wasn’t a priest then.”

Foggy cocks an eyebrow and looks at Karen. Who in return gives him a look.

“So what was he then?” Karen asks, looking back at you. You considered the question for a moment before sitting back down.

“Just a good catholic boy, I guess.” 

“You guess?” Foggy says suddenly.

“I mean, sure we had some fun.” You start quietly. “But we always found our way back to church on Sundays…”

“I thought you weren’t religious?” Karen asked curiously. You considered the question before answering.

“I’m not anymore. Not after how everyone made me feel after our breakup.” You turn back towards your desk to end the conversation. Foggy and Karen both shrugged at each other before going back to their own tasks.

Letting the tears fall silently from your eyes, you didn’t like when people watched you cry. Not that you liked to be emotional, but you didn’t want anyone to see you as weak.

The work day was long and strenuous. You worked quietly at your desk, only looking up to answer questions or find more paperwork.

Clients called and you helped to the best of your ability to answer questions, sending them to Foggy if you couldn’t. Until it was way past your time to head. You hadn’t realized it was dark outside. Turning around, you noticed Karen was also still working.

You gather your belongings and stand to leave. Giving Karen a quick hug, before heading out.

You walked quickly down the street after getting off the bus. Not that you were trying to act in fear, but you definitely knew that someone was following you down the street.

Hell's Kitchen was never the safest at night anyways. Working late was the worst, especially in cases that involved some sort of underground organization.

Turning down another block, you turn your head to see if the man is still following you. Of course he fucking was. What is the deal with men these days? Maybe you were overthinking it, and he just lived on the same street as you. Clearly you were too lost in your anxiety to not notice the second man coming from in front of you.

“Hey, pretty thing. Where are you rushing off too?” He says before grabbing your wrist. You gasp suddenly, trying to rip your hand from his grip.

“Please let go, I’m just trying to go home!” 

“Oh honey… Our boss would like to have a word with you.”

Without missing a beat, the man wraps his arm around your waist, and begins to pick you up. The kicking and punches you were throwing didn’t seem to phase him.  His other hand covered your mouth to muffle your screams.

That’s when you noticed a dark figure standing on top of the building nearest you. You prayed that it would help you. 

And just like that, your prayer was answered. Maybe. You watched as the figure jumped down into the alley way. Forgetting that for a moment, you continue to kick and flail your arms to deter the man. 

Of course there was a parking structure for these guys' convenience. You never understood how no one caught on to these things. While putting you into the car, you feel his body slamming against the door with force. Laying on the floor you scream as you see a man clad in a full white suit tower above you.

“Wait! Wait!” He puts his hands up in surrender “I’m a good guy I promise!”

Finally getting a full look at him, you realized you had never seen this hero before. Sure you’ve run into Spiderman multiple times, and even that Dr. Strange guy.

He stretches out his hand to help you up and you hesitantly take it. You narrow your eyes at him once you’re out of the car. The accent was not from around here. British. It was definitely British. “So who are you supposed to be?” You ask.

“Oh erm. Just call me Mr. Knight.” He starts and then continues with a bow. “It’s a little late to be walking around here, innit?”

You shrug and stand there awkwardly. Reaching for your satchel you finally realize it was missing. Turning back to the car you bend and reach around for it. Once you find it, you climb back out and turn to see that this “Mr. Knight” guy was gone and replaced with a scarier version of a mummy.

He sees the surprise on your face and the fear flash in your eyes. “Same guy. Don’t call me Mr. Knight though.”

The once crisp white suit had turned into a wrapped garment with a large crescent moon in the middle of his chest. It really did look like a superhero outfit.

“Stay right here. I need to get rid of these guys.”

You nodded and watched as both goons got back to their feet in a battle stance. The man in white pulled two crescent shaped blades from his chest, and waited for one of them to throw a punch. As they began their battle, you ran further back to avoid any debris flying around.

Turning your back against the violence, you didn’t want to see what was going to happen. Your eyes shut tight as you hear the gargled screams of your kidnappers. Once you determined it was all over you glance back up and see another figure standing in the dark parking structure.

Gasping loudly you trip over your own feet before falling backwards. You scramble back up and run over to the man who just saved you. He looked confused as to what you were frightened about. That was until he saw the figure. 

“If you know what’s good for you then you need to leave.” He said.

The figure in front of him growled. “I’m only here for her.”

Wait. You had seen this silhouette before. Sometimes as you walk down the street you would catch a glimpse of him. ‘The Devil of Hell's Kitchen’ they called him.

“It’s him.” You let out slowly. The man in white looked towards you, before you noticed the grip on his crescent weapons.

“Listen, guy, the lady is not interested in getting kidnapped tonight.” He said harshly. “You look like you don’t wanna die tonight either.”

“What makes you so sure you’re gonna kill me?” The figure taunted before taking a step forward. You look at this stranger with begging eyes. Hoping that you wouldn’t have to be in the middle of a hero battle. He sighed as he looked at you and then back at the devil.

“You asked for it pal.” He muttered before running towards the dark figure. Each fluid motion of his fists were dodged by the other man. You could tell that he was growing tired of the devil missing his punches.

He snarled loudly before yelling, “I’m tapping out!”

Suddenly the wraps disappeared and the white suit returned. The crescent shaped knives were replaced with a long bow staff. Breaking it in half, he readied himself for the devil’s next attack.

He was quickly met with a kick to his face and the sharp inhale really proved how hard the kick was. The next rounded kick was stopped by the chain attached to Mr. Knight’s staff. The devil flipped back as he untangled the chain from his ankle.

It was like lightning the way that Mr. Knight moved. He threw his hook up towards a pipe and went into a sprint. Swinging himself around so that he could end up on the other side of the other man. Failing as the devil grabbed hold of his forearm and slammed him on the ground.

The sound alone made your ears ring. You stayed behind the car door watching them fight. It was the only battle you have seen up close, and boy did it not fail to both excite you and make you feel fear.

Continuing with his motion, the devil begins to punch the hero into the cement. Over and over. Until finally there was a sudden stop of movement.

Mr. Knight held the devil’s fist, straining to keep it from making contact with his face once again. You noticed that the man in red looked up suddenly at you. His intense gaze made shivers go down your spine.

“Oi, wait a minute I know you!” Mr. Knight said suddenly. “Daredevil! It’s Us!”

‘Daredevil’ snapped his head back down to look at Mr. Knight and pulled his fist away.

“Steven?” His rough voice sent more shivers down your spine. The tone sounded vaguely familiar, like you had heard it somewhere before.

“Yeah mate!” 

The man in red stood up fully and held his hand out to help Steven up. You don’t understand fully how he didn’t recognize him, if you saw a suit that crisp you would have remembered immediately.

You stand surprised as the suit morphed back to the wrapped garment. It changed right in front of you, just like magic.

“Where’s your partner, Spector.” Daredevil asked. “You never go anywhere without them.”

He winced after the question. Something personal you supposed. “It’s the reason why I’m in America.” He leaves it at that.

Both men turn to look at you. You cower a bit not really knowing what they are about to do. The devil takes a step towards you, and you promptly take a step back. He holds up both his hands.

“I’m not here to hurt you.” He states. “I thought you were in danger.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Yeah well, Sailor Moon beat you to it.”

“Hey!” The other hero said with offense in his voice.

You both turn to look at him. He hesitates a moment, most likely not going to say another word. How could you be meeting two heroes in one night? Well, not heroes, more like vigilantes it seemed like.

Clearing your throat, you looked around at the scene and wondered which lucky person would find that in the morning.

“This has been real fun, but I’d really like to go home and sleep.” You finally say. Daredevil and Mr. Knight both nod towards you as you start walking away.

“Let me walk you home.” A gruff voice says, turning to see Daredevil take a step towards you. It wasn’t a question, it was clearly a statement. “To make sure you get home safe.”

You shrug and walk towards the entrance of the parking structure. A voice calls from behind you both that makes you stop dead in your tracks.

“Hey Murdock, if you see my partner, give me a call…” Moonknight said with a hint of sadness in voice. You glance up at the vigilante beside you. Murdock. Matthew Murdock. The only Murdock you knew.

He reaches a hand up to touch your shoulder. Not believing what you had just heard, you flinch away.  “Matt?” You managed to choke out.

“I’m sorry.” He says gently. “Let’s just get you home.”

“No.” Tears pricking your eyes. “You need to tell me what’s going on.”

“Fine.” He says before starting to walk again. You follow close behind him. Street after street you managed to keep up with him. Seeing the church come into view you realize that he was taking you to his own sanctuary.

Matt opens the side gate to the cemetery and steps aside so you could enter first. You step inside and head to the bench you both sat at when you were younger. He lingers a bit by the gate before entering and following you deep into the graveyard.

Once you both are inside, and he makes sure the coast is clear, he takes off his mask. Setting it down next to you, you stare at it. You cannot actually believe that you were saved by Daredevil. Well sort of.

And to make it all worse, Daredevil was your ex. Your knight in shining armor was someone who completely broke your heart. How poetic. You look up at him as he paces.

“You do realize how sacrilegious this is, right?” Your comment definitely breaks the ice. The smile that tugs on the corner of his mouth is only slightly comforting.

“This started way before the priest thing.” He stops pacing and sits next to you. “While we were together actually.”

“You’re joking.” Your mouth gapes open. He stays silent. “Oh god. You’re serious.”

He grabs the mask before speaking up. “ It’s partially the reason why we broke up.”

“What?” You his through your teeth. Was this guy serious right now? “What do you mean it's partially the reason why we broke up? You said you wanted to pursue a life of Christ, Matt.” 

“I did! Didn’t I?!” He raised his voice. “I did what had to be done to protect you, y/n!”

You stood from the bench and put your hands over your ears. Not wanting to hear another word from his mouth.

“Okay what are you doing?” He asked.

“I don’t want to listen to you anymore!” You shout. “I mean do you even know how ridiculous that sounds!”

“I did it for you, y/n! I did all of this for you!”

Then there was silence. Not even the wind howled through the trees in that moment. Letting everything sink in, you felt your heart pounding against your chest. You bring your arms down in a folded position and stare at the man in front of you.

“I really was in love with you, Matt.”

“I’m still in love with you.” He stood as he confessed. “I think about you. Morning, Noon and Night.”

Air that was trapped in your lungs was released all at once. Like you have not been breathing for a whole year. You felt insane to think that this wasn’t some convoluted nightmare.

He took a step towards you, and you let him. Feeling like this had all happened for some divine reason, you let him take your hand. His glove was rough against your skin. You never broke your eye contact off of his face. Studying how his jaw tensed and untensed, or how his eyes always followed the sound of your voice.

“Please Matty.” You sniffle. “You broke my heart once. I can’t take it a second time.”

“I promise you, there won’t be a second time.” He says before leaning down and kissing you gently. It takes a moment for your brain to process what was happening. Once you realize it was in fact a real kiss, you kiss him back. Arms snaking their way around his neck and his around your waist.

The kiss becomes more hunger filled. You can tell you both were touch starved by the way your hands began to roam. His body was pressed into yours, and you could feel yourself getting more turned on every second.

“Sweetheart.” He says. “You smell so fucking good.”

You moan lightly against his lips. Taking his bottom lip between your teeth, you tug on it lightly earning yourself a low groan. The way it vibrated between both your chests went straight to your core.

“Matty. I need you.” You pant as you pull from him slightly. He cups your face with his hand and nods.

“I need you too, sweetheart.”

Rushing through the front door of the church, you kiss the man in front of you with an intense passion. You can’t remember the last time you were touched by a man. Let alone kissed by one. 

The way he grabs your waist with his gloved hands was addicting. You feel every desire and you’re sure that he could smell your arousal. You begin pushing him towards a pew before he turns you around and stops the motion altogether.

“Wait.” Hearing his voice startled you. “We should move to somewhere more private.”

“Where? The only other place is your office, and I’m not about to be bent over a desk, Matt.”

He raises an eyebrow and looks in thought. Whatever was going through his head made your heart start to race. Taking your arm, he leads you towards the confessional booth pulling off his suit, and your own clothes in the process.

Once he is satisfied with how naked the both of you are, he climbs inside. You follow behind him and once he makes himself comfortable in the seat, you straddle his lap.

Leaving a trail of marks down his neck, you feel the heat of his hard cock against your stomach. Moaning from the sensation you readjust yourself and begin to slide him into you. You hear the way his breath catches as your tight cunt passes over his cock.

It’s silent in the church, the only sounds being made were the moans coming from you and the priest you had underneath you. You can’t help but wonder if this was the wrong thing to be doing. Despite those thoughts, you continue to lewdly whimper and sink yourself onto him.

“Oh Father Murdock, how fucking holy art thou” You smirk as you hungrily kiss him.

This makes him groan against you as he thrusts himself deeper inside you. Gasping loudly, you feel his cock in the pit of your stomach. How he managed to thrust that far into you was an act of God. You look down to watch his hips thrust up into you, and you push down onto his cock. It was absolutely breathtaking knowing that he was doing this to you.

“Y/N, you are going to be the absolute death of me.” He gapes, “You feel like absolute heaven.”

“I’m not going to last much longer, Matty” You clench around his length as you begin to bounce more sloppily.

You hear a slight growl creep up from the back of his throat before he grabs your thighs and flips you both over. This new angle had you at a curve, which made each thrust more earth shattering.

“You don’t get to come until I allow it.” His voice echoed through the small booth. Chills were sent up your spine. Looking up at this holy man through your lust filled eyes, you try to focus on every feature of his face. The way his jaw was tensed, and how his eyebrows furrowed.

The intensity of each thrust sent you into an overstimulated galaxy. Seeing stars was typically not what you experience in times like these. Then again, you both had not had sex in a long while.

His panting mixed together with the groans falling from his lips was drawing you to your edge. The little voice in your head kept repeating itself. ‘You don’t get to come until I allow it.’. Fuck did that have an affect on you.

Your moans began to sound more high pitched as the overstimulation hit you. He lowers his head to your chest, taking a nipple into his mouth and sucking on it harshly. The gasp you let out pleased him even more.

He continued to suck before moving his mouth to your neck, leaving small bruises here and there. You could feel his thrusts start to slow down as if he were getting tired. 

“Pl- please, I'm begging you.” You whimper pathetically. 

He smirks before whispering in your ear. “On the count of three. Okay, sweetheart?” 

You nod as you groan loudly.

“One.”

His thrusts begin to pick up, as he fucks you harder than before.

“Two.” 

Your cunt starts to clench around his cock as you try to hold on for that third number.

“Three.”

You both moan and pant as you come together. The pulse of his cock as it releases his hot seed into you feels good against your quivering pussy. Never before have you experienced an orgasm this good.

Breathing finally steadying out, you stare up at him. The sweat running down his forehead was very prominent. You noticed a smile beginning to make his way onto his face. You smile as well.

“What?” You ask quietly.

“I think this is the most sacrilegious thing I have ever done.” He says back in a whisper. 

“Oh and not the vigilante thing?”

He shakes his head before pressing his forehead to yours. “How bout you tell me about what has your heart racing at the moment?” He says instead.

“I just didn’t think I would ever be doing this.”

“How about you share your confession then?” He says while giving you another small thrust making you moan.

“Oh…” You ponder. “Then, bless me, Father, for I have sinned.”

[faydingrain]

Mordecai

'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the orphanage, only an imitation Santa Clause stirred, knocking over the Christmas tree like a buffoon. (You're right—that didn't rhyme. Excellent observation.)

Mordecai grunted as he hauled the bundle from over his shoulder. Not that it was heavy, of course. Rather, the burden of the task was what weighed his shoulders down.

One by one, he carefully (for some reason) placed each present, one by one, beneath the glittering Christmas tree he had roughly fixed. This part was not difficult, and was greatly appreciated by the nuns hovering nearby.

The challenge came after he set up the morning gift display—sneaking crap into the stockings by each sleeping child's bed.

He'd already been warned that some are light sleepers, but then, this was part of the reason he was chosen for the job. Since he knew how to be light on his feet, the task should be simple for him. That didn't change the fact that this was a hassle though.

The first room posed no issue. In, out. The content for each sock was set aside and labeled, so he wasted no time having to hunt for the right things to give.

"You're not Santa Clause."

Ah, shit. With an arched hand hanging over the stocking, his eyes found the commenter. He was surprised that so many vampires allowed children to be indoctrinated into the believe in Santa nowadays, but he didn't give half a shit about society, so what did he care?

But, there was no convincing this child otherwise. A vampire's senses never lie. "You're right; I'm Santa's little helper."

"Where's Santa?"

"He couldn't get past security."

The girl frowned. "That doesn't make any sense."

"I know, right?" Mordecai shook his head. "But I know these guys and checked everything myself."

"Is Santa still here?"

"No, he's not."

"Why not?"

"He left, so now I'm handing out the gifts."

"Why isn't Santa doing it?"

"Because Santa's a busy man and doesn't want to be here."

"So I can't see Santa?"

"No, and you're not gonna see your gifts either if you don't go back to sleep." He grit his teeth, using every ounce of restraint to not curse at this kindred child.

Frowning, she began sliding back under her bed sheets as told. Seeing this, Mordecai resumed his stocking-stuffing.

Except, as he moved to the next one, he could feel her eyes on him. "Hey. Go to sleep."

She stared back.

"Close your eyes. Deep breaths. Weren't you taught how to fake it at least?"

After a blink, she shut her eyes.

"Oy," he huffed. 

As he slipped to the next room, she giggled quietly.

.

Along the next row of over-sized socks, he froze mid-sneak as a loud snort emitted from one of the kids. Still as a statue, he waited for at least 2 minutes, muscles prepared to switch into superspeed mode if necessary.

…No further noise?

No waking?

No questions?

Groaning, he dramatically released the tension in his body and continued on with a shake of his head.

"You're not Santa!"

For fuck's sake.

"Who are you?"

Not in the mood to deal with the human, he replied, "I'm Santa's distant cousin, The Man in Red."

"How did you get in here?"

"Your security sucks."

.

On Christmas morning, the sun beamed down upon the sparkling snow surrounding the church. The song of chipper Cardinals filled the trees close by, rivaling the festivities inside.

Surrounded with joyous children, the girl with a smooth, black bob watched them thoughtfully. It wasn't often she saw human and vampire children playing together, even in this setting.

"Melina?" While Charlie lurked nearby to monitor them, Mordecai snuck up behind her, no longer adorning the old santa costume he was loaned. "Ya happy?"

"Incredibly."

"I still can't believe you made me do this."

She flashed him a grin. "But the children love it."

He merely sighed.

"...Thank you, really."

"Whatever. Brat." As Melina giggled, a small smile found his lips.

"You granted my Christmas wish."

"What are friends for?" He closely wrapped an arm around her, giving a slight squeeze. Then, he retreated out of sight before those two kids could rat him out.

[from-a-reckless-writer]

puso kong pagal (ngayon lang nagmahal)

Her cheeks flush hot as she walks out of the building and straight into her car. She thanks God, Narda isn’t in front of her anymore to witness her fluster. The air is marginally warmer out in the open than in the office, and she tries to chalk it up to the city heat that her cheeks are still a prominent red as she slides into her seat.

What on Earth was she thinking? Willingly making a fool of herself in front of a girl like that? In front of all her subordinates no less? And SuperRegina? Ay Dios Mio, where did that even come from? But oh, was it so worth the way Narda smiled when she did the pose though. It was like a little trigger in the back of her brain lit, flashing and blinking red at Regina—its only directive being; make the pretty girl smile. 

And God, if Regina wasn’t an addict to making pretty girls smile, and God, was Narda’s smile addicting. Her eyes, too. And her laugh! Narda laughed her adorable little laugh, and for a split second Regina’s heart was injected with adrenaline. Her heartbeat running a mile minute in disbelief that a girl like Narda finds her silly enough to unabashedly laugh with, finds her safe enough to confess her fears to. 

Jesus, Regina’s getting in too deep, too fast. 

The car starts moving and she’s still flustered and warm enough to want to open the windows and breathe in the city air of Nueva Esperanza. Call her a sap, but there’s always been something in the smells and sights of home that always brings her mood down to a calm. That’s why she’s always taken to biking whenever she wanted to escape her father’s presence in the house when she was younger, why she wanted to get her driver’s license immediately at 16.

The car exits onto the main road, and the traffic noises and smog, forces her to roll the windows back up again, leaving her with nothing but the silence to face her thoughts. This isn’t the first time she’s made a fool of herself in front of some girl—not that Narda is just some girl, no— although she couldn’t exactly call the first time making a fool of herself so much as making an embarrassment of herself and her family name, or at least that was what her father would have her believe. 

She still remembers being 15 and sitting in a guidance counselor office with her father beside her, two days after being caught with a female classmate in a compromising position inside an empty classroom after class hours. The stern nun reiterating all the values and virtues of being a good Catholic and her father apologizing on behalf of her. 

She’s never felt so fucking small in her entire life. 

Some of her classmates sympathized with her. They were in an all girls catholic school, there was always going to be someone bound to be queer. The girl she was caught with didn’t deny it either, didn’t disappear like Regina thought she would, and that was a relief. To know they were in it together. Although, of course, she can still feel the eyes on her as she walks down hallways, the judgment as she went to prom alone. For a while there, it was easy to believe her attraction was a mistake. It was confusing for the most part, because how can falling for someone, feeling so good about somebody, a first love so innocent and pure, be as convoluted and sinful as they make it out to be? 

It wouldn’t be till after a few more years that she’ll figure that one out. 

After that whole ‘incident’, she poured all that she had into academics, and it all paid off when she graduated class valedictorian and got into UP Pre-Law, PoliSci, of course. The pride on her father’s face on her graduation day completely erasing whatever shame she felt that day inside the guidance counselor’s office. 

College was a whole different story, she packed up her room in Nueva Esperanza and was shipped off to QC. Dorm life was all the freedom she dreamed about having, her father being too busy boasting that her daughter is an iska, to pay attention to Regina’s growing “extracurricular activities”. 

Slowly but surely, the fears she harbored in high school regarding her sexuality disappeared, there was a liberty here that allowed her to explore her feelings, her attraction, her body. Here in Manila, she was free to frequent bars, experiment, and take people home to her dorm every other Friday night. Being a Vanguardia didn’t hurt as much as it did, not when she can get into places she otherwise wouldn’t get in, not when pretty boys gasp at the sight of her sports car and the girls’ jaws drop at the size of her closet. 

But that was only in the beginning, because being in UP meant opening her eyes to a much more radical point of view, and being a Vanguardia now held a hell of a lot more gravity than just getting into bars and shit. It meant the chance to help fund rallies, it meant getting to join grassroot organizations who fight for social justice, and it meant meeting people that made her feel she belongs. 

Meant seeing the world for what it truly is. 

Hinubog ng kolehiyo ang pagkatao nya. 

But as the age old adage goes; time flies by fast when you’re having fun. Before she knew it she’s wearing a sablay, then studying for PhilSATs. And then, law school from then on out. 

Yet, far as she was from home, successful as she was in Metro Manila, there was always still a part of her that yearned to go back. To go back to the open roads, the bustling city center, the green fields, the quiet mountains, and the cliff. 

Always the cliff. 

There was always that part of her that kept dreaming about that girl on the cliff. She half suspects that certain chance encounter is what made her realize there was a part of her that would always feel something for girls. Because, how is it a stranger she barely knew at all managed to worm her way into her soul? A moment such as that doesn’t happen by accident does it? There must’ve been something deeper for it. 

And besides, there was always something about her words that had resonated deeply with Regina. In her dreams, it’s always the same scene, they see each other again on that very cliff under that blue sky that only she’d glimpse in Nueva Esperanza. The years have made her features blurry to Regina, but she can still remember the short cropped hair, the pastel of her pink shirt, and her sudden yet gentle hands around her arms. 

Sometimes, in her dreams, they don’t talk at all, she just smiles at Regina and gestures for her to sit on the ground next to her, their feet dangling over the edge, the great mountains before them. Sometimes, they do talk, and when they do, the first thing Regina always says is, “Naka-alis na ako ng bangin. Ikaw?” 

Nakaalis na ako ng bangin, at kilala ko na ang sarili ko. Ikaw? Pwede ba kitang makilala? 

When she wakes, it’s always with that same yearning deep in her belly. It’s the same yearning she’s feeling now. The roads run past in a steady blur of green. She never expected that this would be how she’d meet Narda again after all these years. Maybe it’s naive to believe it was a kind of kismet moment. But how can she not think about it? What other explanation could there be but fate? 

After finishing college, she made the hard decision of going back home. She found herself a review center in Nueva Esperanza and decided she’d prepare for bar exams at home. This meant giving up a lot of things. The friends she’s made, the people she’s helped, and of course, her freedom. Her sweet, sweet freedom. If those were the things she had to give up to make Nueva Esperanza a better place, then so be it. 

It was honestly not a surprise finding out that the hometown she left hasn’t changed all that much. It was still the same quiet yet bustling city, with the same people she grew up with and the same haunts she used to frequent. And of course, the same corrupt system still in place. 

The only welcome thing she accepted after her homecoming was Brian. 

Charming, considerate Brian, whose only downside in Regina’s opinion was that he was a cop. Brian felt like an easy fix of affection, he was so different from the men she used to fool around with in Manila that when she’s with him she can pretend college was nothing but an experimental phase. Even though the rainbow pride badge in the bottom of her bag argued otherwise. But her father approved of him, and side by side, they looked good together. The Good Lawyer and the Good Cop. He completes the image she’s been trying so hard to cultivate. 

And just when she thinks she’s getting closer to winning him over, to achieving the perfect portrait… 

Narda walks in. 

The girl from the cliff. 

It was unnerving how fast Narda had chipped at her. She always leaves her at a loss. Not to mention, it’s amazing how quick Regina bends to her. Narda kind of makes her feel like high school over again. She makes her feel confused, makes her question who she truly is when they’re together. 

Who is the real Regina? She finds herself asking sometimes, the one who’s a cut-throat attorney who’ll bring the people their justice? Or the Regina who would throw superhero poses just to make you smile? 

What she does know is that Narda brings out the best in her. Makes her want to strive to be good. It’s bizarre, how everyone tells her she’s one of the greatest do-gooders there is in Nueva Esperanza, but she takes a look at Narda and she thinks, I’ll never be nearly half as good as her. 

It’s as if Regina has to actively remind herself all the things she has to do to be good, all that she requires to achieve to reach a standard, but to Narda, it all seems so effortless to her. Narda’s a hero. She just is. It’s a given for her. 

And God, Regina’s already half crazy for her. 

The car is turning to take the entrance to her apartment building’s parking lot, when her phone chimes. She taps the screen and an unknown number greets her. Her fingers slide across the screen to open it. She gets a lot of these kinds of messages, hazards of being a public attorney—everyone knows your number. 

What the text message contains though, and who it’s from when she discovers, surprises her. 

UNKNOWN NUMBER 6:37 P.M: Hi ma’am! Narda toh. Hiningi ko po number nyo kay Brian, sana ok lang po syo yun, gusto ko lng po mag thank you sa pagbisita nyo kanina. Gumaan po talaga araw ko. Hope u have a good evening ma’am. 

Regina’s heart beats loud in her chest, she can feel a blush creeping up on her cheeks again. The car comes to a halt and Ali moves to step out, she throws him a quick “Go on ahead.” Too anxious, too excited, too…everything, to even care. She stares at the message again. Then stares some more. A minute goes by then another. She types something, then erases it, hesitates. She wonders if Narda is watching her type, is waiting for her response. 

After careful rumination she settles on:

You’re welcome!! Always happy to cheer up a friend :)) pero I thought sinabi ko na sayo don't call me ma’am anymore? 

The response comes quick, by quick she means not a second later. She tries not to celebrate too much at the thought that Narda was probably waiting for her reply. 

UNKNOWN NUMBER 6:38 P.M: Ay sorry, Regina. 

Regina smiles. She can hear Narda’s teasing tone through the screen. She changes her contact name and in the split second that it takes her to do so, another text comes flitting through. Her phone beaming and beeping as if echoing Regina’s heart. 

Narda <3 6:40 P.M: Eto okay na po ba?

Regina can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of her. She’s smiling silly as she types. 

Super okay! &lt;3

She wishes Narda would drop the po, but oh, well, baby steps. They’re getting there, if today was anything to go by. 

Narda doesn’t respond back till after she’s gotten off the elevator and onto her floor, and Regina tries to calm her heart down as she reads the reply.

Narda <3 7:01 P.M: <3

Puso, Regina thinks, puso nga naman oh. 

[antique-traveler]

i remember you mentioning you’re planning on writing trans matt, and i’m so excited. trans matt is so special to me and i feel like he isn’t written enough. like if u squint hard enough you can act like matt’s scars are top surgery scars. like i fr believe that foggy would get curious one day and go through ALL of matt’s scars with him (kinda like that one scene in season two with elektra) maybe in college or sometime right after they just met

anon this was such a good idea god i loved writing this so much. the other trans!matt piece is still very much in the planning stage rn (also i'm debating if i want it to be mattfoggy or xreader, lmk y'all's thoughts) but thank you for giving me an excuse to write something kinda short and sweet :-D

2k, T, warnings: slight internalized transphobia, references to sex but not nsfw

[note: foggy's reception to matt coming out is definitely kinda clumsy, but i wanna let y'all know it's not transphobic. i just figure that it's 2012 and he's probably not very educated on modern gender theory, yknow?]

Matt’s gotta know he’s hot, right? Sighted or not, surely he knows that every member of the human race swoons at his biceps and jawline and smile. Foggy knows that if he had muscles like that, he’d never put on a shirt, ever, but somehow Matt seems almost… self conscious of his body. 

Granted, they’ve only known each other a few weeks, so Matt could still be getting over some new roomie shyness, but Matt’s not shy about anything else, is the thing. He doesn’t hold back when he complains about his professors, he gladly circles an arm around Foggy’s shoulders when they stumble home together after a long night of drinking. Despite all that, though, Foggy’s still only ever seen Matt shirtless, like, twice. Foggy had only gotten a brief glimpse of Matt’s fucking six pack abs before he turned around to pull a sweatshirt over his head.

He’s obviously smokin’, Foggy already knows that, even if his hips are maybe a little wider than the average underwear model, but Foggy notices something else, too: Matt’s got scars. He’s not covered in them, Foggy only counted four or five, but they’re certainly noticeable. There are a couple thin, white ones on his back, the line running across his shoulder and collarbone near his neck, and the dark, diagonal line just to the right of Matt’s belly button. Most noticeable, though, are the two long, faded lines that span over his ribcage, sort of underlining each of his well-defined pecs. 

Foggy’s not one to judge, and they certainly do not detract from Matt’s hotness, but Foggy knows that that amount of scars is pretty rare for a run-of-the-mill twenty-two-year-old, and he’s seen enough horror movies about evil nuns to be a little skeptical of the orphanage where Matt grew up. 

Foggy tries to bring it up one night in early October when they’re both getting ready for bed and he sees another flash of Matt’s muscular bare back.

“Hey, Mattothy?” Foggy asks, trying to sound as casual and nonchalant as possible.

Matt pushes his head through the top of his hoodie and is adorably unaware of how messy his hair is when he turns to face Foggy. “Yes, Foggward?”

“What’s the deal with all the scars, man? Are you in, like, a secret ninja fight club or something?”

Matt pales a little bit before letting out the most forced laugh Foggy’s ever heard. “No, it’s a… it’s a long story, Fog. Maybe I’ll tell you later.”

Matt definitely won’t be telling him later, Foggy knows that much. Clearly he doesn’t want to share with the class, though, so Foggy begrudgingly lets it go for now. “Alright, bud,” he says after a moment of raising an eyebrow that Matt can’t see. “Well, I’m calling it a night.”

“Don’t let the bed bugs bite,” Matt says with a reserved smile.

Foggy flicks off the lamp on his nightstand and lays back on his pillow, trying not to form theories about all Matt’s scars as he drifts off.

><><><

Two nights ago, Matt gave Foggy the best blowjob he’s ever given, and he’s been riding the high ever since. He knew that Foggy was attracted to him, of course. Knew it from the moment he stepped into their dorm for the first time and all of Foggy’s blood immediately flew south for the winter, but to find out that that attraction was more than just physical, that’s the part that Matt didn’t expect. Matt’s never had a friend like Foggy before, and he’s pretty sure that for a while he just thought that all best friends gave each other dreams about getting married and retiring to a lakeside cabin, but now he knows better.

This thing between them is so new it’s barely even a “thing”, just kissing and giddy laughter, but it’s still the best thing that’s ever happened to Matt. Better than putting on his first testosterone patch, better than legally changing his name to Matthew Michael, even better than running his fingers over his chest for the first time once the bandages were off. Remembering all those moments, though, reminds Matt of the one thing that might ruin this amazing new thing he and Foggy have between them. For now, Foggy hasn’t actually asked to sleep with him yet, for now, Foggy hasn’t discovered the box of T patches tucked away under Matt’s bed, for now, Foggy doesn’t know that Matthew Michael Murdock has only been Matthew Michael Murdock for three years.

So anyway, two days after clumsily stuttering through a confession and smiling into a first kiss and kneeling slowly in front of Foggy, the two of them are getting ready for bed. Matt’s only just pulled his hoodie off over his head when Foggy speaks up from his bed.

“Hey, Matty,” he says before Matt can put on a sleep shirt. “Come over here.”

Matt awkwardly holds up a t-shirt and quietly asks, “Can I just–”

“Nope,” Foggy laughs. “I don’t think you know how hot you are if you’re that eager to put a shirt back on. You do realize that six packs are actually incredibly attractive, right?”

Matt feels heat rush to his face and makes his way to Foggy’s bed. “Uh, I guess? I didn’t really know if what I could feel was very visible, in my defense.”

Foggy just scoffs and pulls Matt onto the bed with him, wriggling around until they’re both laying side-by-side, facing each other. Once they’re both settled in, Foggy pushes forward and kisses Matt gently, like a compliment. Matt smiles as he pulls away, and he can feel Foggy’s eyes roaming over his body.

After a moment, Foggy’s breath catches and he finally asks, “Will you actually tell me where you got all these scars?” Matt’s heart drops and before he can object, Foggy cuts back in. “And you’ve already evaded the question once. You’re not ‘long story’-ing your way out of this one, mister.”

Matt feels his mouth go dry and tries to keep his cool. He hesitates for a second, then shifts on the bed so he’s lying on his back, face still pointed at Foggy. If Foggy can’t see the two on his back, maybe Matt won’t have to tell him about Stick. He cautiously raises a hand to run over the scar across his shoulder.

“This one,” he starts, “is from my accident. It wasn’t very deep, but it was still too long to go without stitches.” The breath that Foggy lets out is shallow and sad, so Matt attempts to lighten the mood as he describes the one on his belly. “This one comes with a very exciting and dramatic backstory. I got it when I faced off against an evil foe named appendicitis.”

Foggy thankfully laughs at that, but soon he goes quiet. “What about the ones on your chest?” He lays a gentle finger on the puckered skin below Matt’s nipple and Matt feels his pulse skyrocket and bile threaten to gather at the back of his throat.

He’d hoped he’d get a little bit more time with Foggy before telling him, hoped he’d get just a couple of weeks of being loved by someone who viewed him as a man without question. He knows that everything’s about to change now, though. If he’s lucky, Foggy will just let him down easy, they can finish out the semester as distant, awkward roommates, and then Foggy will request a room change for the spring term. If he’s not lucky… well, Matt doesn’t want to think about what will happen if he’s not lucky.

Foggy must notice Matt’s demeanor change, because he shifts a little closer to him on the bed and rests a hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay, Matt? I’m sorry if I crossed a line or something, you don’t have to talk about it if–”

“No, Foggy,” Matt cuts him off, “it’s okay. I, um… this is something you need to know about, before this thing we have goes any further.” Matt takes a deep breath and turns his face  up towards the ceiling. “I’m transgender. The scars are from when I had my… my breasts removed.”

Foggy goes completely still next to him, so Matt swallows the lump in his throat and tries to continue as confidently as he can. “I came out a few years ago, but I’ve always been this way, you know? I just couldn’t really talk about it at St. Agnes. My dad left me some money, and you know I’ve picked up some tutoring jobs, and a lot of that money goes towards…” Matt trails off and clears his throat. He’s almost done, just a little bit more and then he can let Foggy be disgusted. “So I– I came out sophomore year of undergrad, and I changed my name, and I have these patches I wear with hormones in them. I, um… sorry that this probably isn’t what you were expecting.”

Foggy doesn’t say a word for a moment, just breathes slowly through his open mouth. In a small voice, he finally says, “You, um, you have a… a bulge, though?”

Matt feels the weight of his packer from where it rests against him in his boxer-briefs and blushes what must be a bright red. “It’s fake. It’s a silicone thing so I can, you know, use a urinal and stuff.” When Foggy stays silent, Matt finally turns his face back towards him and feels a rebel tear slip out of the corner of his eye. He wishes he’d kept his glasses on. “Foggy? Can you please say something?”

“Matty, I don’t–” Foggy cuts himself off, then moves to prop himself up on his elbow. “You didn’t think I’d wanna end things over this, did you?” 

Matt’s jaw drops open and he flushes again. “I, uh… kinda?”

“Is this why you didn’t want me to… reciprocate, the other night?”

“Yeah,” Matt admits before pushing himself up to lean against Foggy’s headboard.

Foggy sighs and seems to weigh his words. “I’ve never met anyone else who’s… like you. I’m definitely surprised, but… Matty, I really like you. I think you’re smart and funny and kind and, like, really hot, and none of that changes just ‘cause you’re– ‘cause you used to be–” Foggy stops mid-sentence and lets out a heavy breath. “Shit, I’m probably saying this all wrong. What I mean is that I care about you a lot, Matt, and I wanna keep doing all the… kissing and stuff. I don’t care if you don’t have a dick or if you used to have boobs or anything like that.”

Matt laughs wetly and lets the relief wash over him. “Thank you, Fog.”

“Is it weird that I said ‘boobs’?” Foggy asks with a shaky laugh. “I feel like ‘boobs’ was an inappropriate word for the gravity of this conversation.”

“No,” Matt gets through in between giggles, “you’re an adult, you’re allowed to say ‘boobs’. It’s not like I have them anymore, anyway.”

Foggy smiles and gets a little more serious again. “I’m attracted to you as a man, okay, Matt? Like, you were the confirmation that I’m not straight. I wanna make sure you know that.”

“Thank you, Foggy,” Matt says again, still smiling. Foggy leans over and kisses him hungrily and Matt kisses right back. Matt feels Foggy’s lips on his own, and every movement feels like a promise, like he’s pressing Matt’s name into his own mouth.

Foggy pulls away after a few minutes and lays a hand on Matt’s hip. “You know, if you’re okay with me going, uh, down there, I’d be happy to… return the favor from the other day.”

Matt blushes for the hundredth time that night and his whole body starts to fill with warmth. This is what he thought he’d never get, this is the dream scenario that he barely ever let himself consider for fear of disappointing himself. He nods as Foggy starts to undo his fly, and drops his head back down on the pillow. 

Now this is the best thing to ever happen to Matt.

[rainbowdelicsunshine]

Hello! 👋

I just got done watching the new Chucky episode, and I’m freaking out! 😭

As much as I am mad at “good” Chucky for killing poor Nadine, I can’t help but to wonder if he wasn’t actually faking it the whole time.

I mean, he had done things that I think the real Chucky would never have done. For instance, he was singing to himself about unicorns when no one was around, he threw up at the sight of blood, he tried to kill Buff!Chuck, and even the evil therapist seemed to be weirded out by him.

I think the therapist may have said something that set him off, honestly.

Even though Good!Chucky had his sus moments throughout the series, I do think that he was “good” but only for a small amount of time. Or of course he may be doing a whole “Nica!Chucky” thing where the good and bad versions of himself are switching back and forth.

Idk, maybe I’m still too optimistic! 😭

Anyway, what are your thoughts on the evil therapist? I hope we get a flashback with young Charles and her!

AHHHHHHHHHHH ALLL MY RAGE HATRED AND ANGER ALL GO TO THAT FUCKING HORRIBLE EXCUSE OF A THERAPIST, SHE HITS SO MUCH OF MY PTSD POINTS THAT ITS HARD FOR ME TO PUT IT ALL INTO WORDS HOW I FEEL!!!!!!!!

Also I do firmly believe that Mixter was the sole reason that he regressed back to being a killer and it's one of the exact tactics she used on him as a child

I also feel there's gonna be a lot of parallels between Scout and Glen and Glenda, or at least I really hope there will be

And yeah, if he really was faking, he WOULD HAVE NEVER EVER cried out for help and said someone was KIDNAPPING HIM to the priest and the nun while he was in Mixter's arms, LOOKING AND SOUNDING COMPLETELY TERRIFIED OF THE SITUATION!!!!! THAT SCENE PRACTICALLY TORE MY HEART OUT!!!!!!!

God, I wanna see flashbacks of what she did AND I WANT SCOUT TO KILL HER LIKE HOW NICA!CHUCKY KILLED THE THERAPIST IN CULT PLEASE WE NEED JUSTICE!!!!!!!!!!

Thank you soso very much for coming by my awesome friend, it's always awesome to see you in here! Hope you come back soon and have a wonderful evening!!

[honeypiehotchner]

kiss me on the mouth and set me free (Damon Salvatore x fem!Reader) -- one shot

Hi my lovelies! I know this is not my usual content whatsoever, but I’ve been watching TVD with my best friend (@treat-winchesterswith-kindness​) and she was begging for a Damon smut, so this is the result. And I have to say...I enjoyed the hell out of writing this one xx.

Beta’d by @treat-winchesterswith-kindness​ and @a-radical-notion <3

Warnings: (Birthday) SMUT! (Slight) virginity kink, Daddy kink, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), biting (of course), size kink

Damon’s fingers touch gently underneath your chin, tilting your head, forcing your eyes to meet his. Not for compliance, he’d never do that to you. But for attention, for focus, for sincerity. He wants you to know his true intentions, the kind that only you can see when you’re looking into his eyes.

The usual mischief isn’t there. Instead, swirling in his eyes, are the softest emotions you’ve ever seen. The most genuine. The warmest.

Slowly, you nod. Your silent, willing compliance. Your silent, please.

As he leans forward to connect your lips--

“Good morning, sleeping beauty.”

Your dream is ripped right out from under you by the smirking vampire standing in your bedroom. “Damon, what the hell?” You sit up in bed, rubbing your forehead. “What the fuck do you want?”

“Yikes, what’s with the attitude? My feelings are fragile, you know.” He grabs a pillow off your floor and hugs it to his chest as he quite literally falls onto the reading chair you have by your window.

Your only response is a glare.

“Come on, do you not know what day it is?”

“No,” you mutter, dropping your hands onto the bed in defeat. “What day is it?”

His expression is surprise, sadness, and unamused all at once. “Your birthday.”

“Oh,” you chuckle. You guess that is today. You’ve been so busy lately. You knew it was coming up, but you weren’t aware it was coming up this quickly. And now it’s here, and you have no plans.

Or at least you thought you didn’t have plans.

“Up, up, up,” Damon orders, waving his hands at you as he stands. “We’re celebrating, you’re not allowed to say no. Up.”

One thing you’ve learned about being friends with Damon Salvatore is that once he’s set in his ways, he isn’t budging. So, despite feeling like lead has been injected into your bones, you let him drag you out of bed -- literally. He reaches both hands out and you accept, wrapping your fingers around his and allowing him to tug you to your feet.

You and Damon have always been close. More than close, actually. You’ve never kissed or anything, at least not on the lips. He kissed your forehead once when you were sobbing over something. You kissed his cheek once in public when a guy wouldn’t stop hitting on you. And the two of you have held hands before, but more as an “I don’t want to lose you” measure in large crowds. You love concerts, and Damon does too (especially rock) but he hates the crowds because he hates losing sight of you.

You wouldn’t be surprised if everyone just assumed you and Damon are dating. You know the two of you aren’t -- because he’s definitely had sex with other women while you’ve been friends with him -- but you also know his behavior might lead others to believe otherwise. You also know that’s kind of his whole intention.

He’s protective. It’s what he does best. When you’re next to him, no one who isn’t your friend will look at you. And when you’re not with him, you’ve noticed the number of people who approach you with ill intentions has considerably decreased.

Once you’re known indirectly (or directly, you guess) as Damon Salvatore’s girl, no one comes near you. Exactly how Damon likes.

You don’t mind it. You hate being bothered. You’re surprised you let Damon bother you for as long as you did before you caved. You can’t lie, you liked it. You liked him. You still do.

But Damon isn’t the settling down type. He’s not the type to be monogamous, at least not from your experience. You do wonder at times what his goal was whenever he’d tell you about his sexual encounters. It wasn’t like he was bragging, but you couldn’t help but feel like he was trying to get a reaction out of you.

So, obviously, you didn’t give him one.

Damon doesn’t always get what he wants. He just thinks he does. And you like to make him believe that.

“Are you ready yet? I’m starving,” Damon calls from the hallway.

You roll your eyes. “No. And you can’t be starving, you’re dead.”

“I know,” he smirks, sauntering into your room. “Look at you.”

“Look at me?” You scoff. “I wore this outfit last week.”

“Yeah, but you look...hotter, I don’t know. Maybe it’s your birthday.”

You roll your eyes again, a habit you do most often when you’re with Damon. “Whatever. Where are you taking me?”

“Oh, just, all your favorite places.”

“You’re full of shit, Damon.”

+++

After a full day of doing all of your favorite things, most of which Damon hates, by the way. You have no idea why he’s been entertaining you all day, but you’re assuming it’s only because today is your birthday. He’ll go back to his usual self tomorrow and hang out with you only when it doesn’t involve things he hates doing.

“Which one of your comfort movies are we watching to end the day?”

You eye Damon skeptically from the kitchen. He’s currently on the couch, flicking through Netflix lazily.

You don’t want to question any of this until tomorrow, so you tell him which movie to queue up, and you hear him muffle a groan.

You return to the living room with a giant bowl of popcorn, plopping it in the middle of you and Damon. He presses play on the movie, and you eat your popcorn with a smile.

Of course, you should’ve known it was too good to be true for Damon to keep his mouth shut all day because about halfway through the movie, he drops the bomb you had been waiting on.

“So...you’ve really never had sex?”

You roll your eyes, but don’t respond.

Earlier today when the two of you were walking around, Damon kept pointing out cute guys. And they were cute, you’ll give him that, but you had no idea what his deal was. After five or six guys are pointed out, Damon asks you, “Come on, you’ve never had birthday sex? A one-night stand on your special day?”

You had laughed and shoved his arm, and confessed, “I’ve never had any sex, period. So no thank you. Can we please go?”

You knew it was way too good to be true when Damon dropped the subject immediately and moved on, letting you drag him away to your other favorite spot.

Of course, you should’ve known he was only waiting for the right time. You did know. Which is why you haven’t answered him right now.

But he keeps going.

“What about held hands? Kissed anyone on the lips?”

“First of all, you’ve held my hand, and second of all, of course I’ve kissed someone on the lips, I’m not a nun!” You lie.

He looks skeptical. “When was it?”

“I was…” He gives you the look harder, not compelling you, but might as well have been. “Fine. I’ve never had sex, and I’ve never had my first kiss. Are you happy now?”

“Of course I’m not happy!” He gives you another look, this one like you’ve gone batshit crazy. “You’re missing out on one of life’s greatest experiences!”

“And this is exactly why I never told you,” you toss a popcorn kernel at him, watching it bounce off his forehead. He looks up at it, but he doesn’t blink. “Not everyone thinks sex is all there is to life, Damon.”

“Okay, that’s not what I meant--”

“That’s exactly what you meant.”

“I just mean if...you’re waiting…”

“Please, stop. Talking.”

“You don’t need to wait.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Because I’m right here.”

You stare at him blankly. “What?”

He shrugs nonchalantly like he’s not the biggest manwhore around. “I’m here.”

“You’re joking. Quit fucking with me.”

“I’m not fucking with you-- Well, at least not yet--”

“Oh my God, shut up!” You laugh, swatting at his arm, hating the way you’ve gone hot all over.

Damon Salvatore is attractive. Scratch that-- He’s more than attractive. He’s the kind of attractive everyone says they want in a guy, but obviously, it’s too much to ask for, so they settle for a little less. You can’t ask everyone to look like a God, but Damon does -- though you’ll never let him hear those words leave your lips. Never.

The prospect of having sex with Damon has crossed your mind more than once. Probably a thousand times, if you’re honest, but you always knew it would never happen. He’s Damon Salvatore. First of all, he doesn’t do anything besides casual sex, and second of all, you’re pretty sure his sex only includes experienced partners. You don’t exactly fit either of those criteria.

You never even thought he looked at you that way. You figured if he had, he would’ve made more jokes or insinuated things. But he never has with you.

“I’m being serious, you know.”

At this point, fifteen more minutes of the movie have gone by. But you haven’t been paying attention.

“Can I ask why?” You say, keeping your eyes focused on the TV screen.

“Why what?”

“Why now? Why are you suddenly interested? Because if it’s just to get your dick wet, I will kick you out.”

“What do you mean suddenly interested?” He counters.

“What do you mean?” You fire back, finally looking at him. “The whole time we’ve been friends, you’ve had more one-night stands than I can count. You never flirt with me. And just today you were trying to find someone for me to have birthday sex with. Are you serious?”

“Okay, yes, I have had a lot of one-night stands, and yes, I was being...obnoxious today, but I have flirted with you.”

“Since when?”

“Since every day I’ve known you!” He cries. “Did you not notice?”

You slump back into the couch cushions. “Well, I guess not.”

More minutes pass. The movie plays and you try to pay attention, silently wishing the couch would swallow you whole right now. This shouldn’t be embarrassing, but it is.

“I’m not saying you have to have sex tonight, but whenever you’re ready...I’m here.”

“Of course you’ll always be there for that.”

“You know I didn’t mean it that way,” he says, and you would’ve brushed him off again if he wasn’t looking into your eyes so deeply, and reaching for your hand. Not in a way that insinuates anything, but for comfort.

Silently, you turn your hand over and let him hold it. “What if...What if I’m not ready for sex yet, but…”

“But?”

“But…” You sigh, averting your eyes back to the movie. “What if I want you to kiss me?”

“I can do that.”

You nod, but you don’t move. Your hand stays gently held in his, your eyes glued to the movie. You suggested it yourself, yet you’re nervous.

Distantly, you hear the bowl of popcorn moving to the coffee table. You feel the cushion beside you dip slightly as Damon scoots over. And then…

“You’re going to have to look at me if you want me to kiss you.”

You feel his fingers gently lifting your chin, turning your gaze toward him.

“Are you sure?”

You roll your eyes, not as harsh this time because you’re too busy buzzing with the fact that his fingers are still on your chin. “Just shut up and kiss me.”

“Okay, okay,” he teases, his thumb stroking your jaw.

He moves slow, not wanting to rush you, but he moves so slow that you wish he’d use his speed. Before you can make a comment about it, though, his lips are finally on yours.

Kissing isn’t what you expected. But since it’s with Damon, it’s amazing.

He still moves as slow as possible, his hand moving from your chin to your jaw, cupping your face, pulling you closer. You have no idea what to do with your hands, so you leave them in your lap, curled into fists.

Damon pulls back, pecking your lips once, then twice, before finally pulling away.

“How’s that for a first kiss?”

You don’t bother responding. Instead, you grip his shirt in both hands and pull him back to you, kissing him harder. A growl releases itself from the back of Damon’s throat, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip in retaliation.

You open up for him instantly, fists releasing his shirt when his tongue strokes into your mouth gently. His hands find your waist and squeeze, massaging your skin, tugging you closer until there’s practically not even a centimeter of space between the two of you. You wrap your arms around his neck, a small whine leaving your lips when he pulls back.

“Damon…” You whisper, your vision hazy, but in the best way.

“Look at me,” he says softly, his lips ghosting over yours.

You blink slowly, looking back into his eyes. “Hm?”

“Do you want more?”

You nod pathetically, still annoyed with him for stopping.

“Words, little one,” he taps your nose with his index finger. “What do you want?”

“More,” you say almost instantly. “I need more, Damon.”

“More it is,” he smirks, giving you what you need.

You inhale deeply when he kisses you, and when you exhale, your breath fills Damon’s lungs. Your fingers thread through his hair at the base of his skull, your arms keeping you steady around his neck. His lips devour you in every form of the word, claiming you, coaxing you to open up to him. His hands tug on your hips, pulling you into his lap, straddling his legs.

Your comfort movie plays on the TV in the background, the volume turned down, but still there. Somehow, it makes more of your nerves melt away. Damon’s touch makes the rest of them disappear.

Damon pushes your hair back from your face as he holds you captive with his kiss. Another nip to your skin and he pulls back.

“I want more,” you blurt, “but I’m not a one night stand.”

“You are most definitely not a one night stand,” he replies softly, pecking your lips. “If you want more, I’ll give you more.”

“Give me more,” you all but demand, rocking your hips. “Now.”

“Ah, ah, ah,” he tightens his grip on your hips, stopping your movement. “Just because it’s your first time doesn’t mean you get to do whatever you want.”

You fully stop your movement out of surprise and annoyance. “Why not?”

“Because…” He thumbs the pout from your lips. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“Damon,” you groan. “Just because I’m a virgin doesn’t mean I haven’t fingered myself.”

He chuckles lowly, grabbing one of your hands and lifting it up into view. “I am a lot bigger than your fingers, princess.”

You shudder at the nickname and fail to hide it.

His usual mischievous smirk stretches across his lips. “You like that?”

You nod. No use in trying to hide it.

“Princess,” he murmurs. “What do you want?”

“Fuck me,” you say proudly, already tired of the teasing.

He smooths his hands down your arms. “That’s not asking nicely.”

“Please, will you please just fuck me already?”

“Nice of you to say please,” Damon replies, pressing a kiss to your lips. “But I need to get you ready first. Don’t pout, kitten. Come on.”

He shifts his weight to lift you up, laying you back on the couch. Slowly, your pants are dragged down your legs. You wait for him to take your panties, too, but he doesn’t.

You lift your head, but Damon stops you before the comment leaves your mouth. “Patience, princess.”

You throw your head back into the pillow with a groan, one that quickly morphs into a moan when he mouths your clit over your panties. His tongue darts out to tease your hole through the fabric, smirking into your pussy as you squirm. He thumbs your clit before massaging your lips.

“There we go,” he murmurs. “I can feel you getting wet, and that’s what we need, Princess, I don’t want to hurt you...not unless you ask.”

A flash of a wet dream you had a few nights ago, where Damon’s mouth was in your neck, his teeth breaking skin only barely, but enough to taste.

“Did you just get wetter? Oh, Princess…”

The sound of ripping fabric fills your ears when Damon’s teeth tear your panties away. The sudden cool air on your wet pussy causes your hips to buck, and Damon’s hands promptly push them back down.

He crawls up your body, briefly paying attention to your collarbones and neck, daring to nip there, but not breaking the skin, and leaving as quick as he came.

His entire body covers yours as he leans down, pressing sweet kisses to your lips, smirking when he finds your lips already parting for him. And when your hands find the buttons on his shirt, he chuckles, but keeps kissing you, fiercer now as you unbutton every last one, leaving his shirt hanging wide open.

“You feeling good?”

“Do you really need to ask?”

“Just checking, baby,” he coos, kissing both of your cheeks, then your nose.

He slides back down your body, settling over your hips. Now, without the barrier of your panties, you can feel his breath on your pussy. Before you have time to process that feeling, though, Damon is diving in headfirst -- literally.

Damon is not a stranger to going down on a woman, and it’s actually his favorite thing in the world to do.

He doesn’t even try holding you down. One arm is stretched across your hips, while his other hand is busy massaging your lips, coating his fingers in your wetness. You expect him to thrust his fingers into you then, but a loud moan has you looking down to see Damon’s fingers in his mouth, tasting you.

He opens his eyes and catches yours, smirking around his fingers as he pulls them out of his mouth. “You taste good.”

You scrunch up your nose, earning a laugh from him.

“I’ll make you taste one day, kitten, you might like it.”

“Hmph.”

“Don’t start pouting now,” he says, keeping his eyes locked with yours as his fingers trail down to your entrance. “Just one for now, Princess,” he whispers, spreading your lips and pressing in.

One isn’t much, so all that you feel is pleasure and heat in your core.

“More,” you whine, lying back down, breathless. “Please.”

“There’s my good girl,” he coos, kissing your hip bone. “Asking so nicely. I’ll make you feel good, don’t worry.”

Another finger enters you and it is a bit of a stretch, but still not much. He was right, his fingers are bigger than yours -- and you’re sure his cock is bigger, too -- but it’s still not enough.

“More,” you cry, the word breaking into a choked moan when he scissors his fingers, opening you up.

“There it is,” he smiles, leaning down to flick your clit with his tongue before sucking gently on the bundle of nerves. He continues scissoring his fingers until he hears your moans growing quieter, and that’s when he adds a third finger.

Now you feel the stretch, but it isn’t painful. Your moan is louder than you expect, your back arching off the couch, and Damon swears for a second he might’ve stumbled upon an angel.

A small whimper leaves your lips when he curls his fingers, pressing into your g-spot ever so slightly. Not hard enough for immense pleasure because he doesn’t want to wear you out immediately, and he knows you aren’t used to that level of pleasure -- not yet at least.

He pauses his assault on your hip bone, never biting hard enough to leave a mark, to return to your clit. He’s not sure if you know it, but you’re close. He can feel your walls fluttering and squeezing his fingers, the tell-tale signs.

Once you feel his mouth back on your clit, sucking and nibbling gently, you’re blinded by the pleasure that crashes into you. It’s as if the skies opened up and struck you with lightning straight from the sun.

When Damon moans into your pussy, the vibrations send waves of pleasure through your every fiber, and you have no choice but to cum all over his fingers.

Something you do when you’re pleasuring yourself is you stop almost immediately, but Damon continues, milking every last bit of your orgasm until you’ve calmed down. He leans his head on your hip while he continues massaging your walls until he can pull his fingers out without hurting you or startling you.

The emptiness you feel when his fingers leave you is a little startling, but only so much so that you need something else inside of you. Which is why while he’s busy sucking on his fingers again, making a complete mess, you’re sitting up and tossing your shirt over your head.

“Woah,” Damon says around his fingers, his eyes widening when your bra comes off, too. “Hello.”

You almost glare at him. “I need you inside of me.”

Damon raises an eyebrow, licking his lips. “Pardon me?”

“Please,” you groan. “Please, I need more, I…”

“Shhh,” he shushes you, his fingers massaging soft circles into your thigh. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Please.”

He nods. “Lay back, Princess. I’ve got you, don’t worry.”

You obey, mostly out of exhaustion than compliance, and Damon knows that. You’ve always been a bit of a brat, but he’s seeing even more of it tonight.

He makes a show of shrugging off his shirt, watching you watching him, your arm bent underneath your head to prop you up. One leg is up and the other is down, and you look like Heaven.

Damon undoes his belt and tosses it away, taking note of the way your eyes follow it all the way to the floor. You don’t even look back to him until his pants are hitting the floor, and him stepping out of them catches your attention again. Black boxer briefs are all that is left, and they’re barely containing him.

He loves how intently you’re watching him. The genuine curiosity sparks in his eyes when he pulls his underwear down, kicking them aside. You blink slowly, marveling at the sight of him. He’s...pretty.

“Like what you’re seeing, baby?”

You nod slowly. “Mhm. Taste?”

“Next time,” he promises, kneeling on the couch, pushing your legs apart. “Tonight is all about you, Princess.” He presses a kiss to your lips to seal the deal, and you accept it, reminded of how empty you feel now that your legs are spread again.

You go quiet when you feel his cock nudging your entrance. He stretched you, but he feels so big.

“Is it...Is it gonna fit?” You ask, your arms wrapping around his neck again for support.

“I’ll go slow,” he murmurs, kissing your forehead, cheeks, nose, and chin. “You tell me when to stop, okay?”

“Okay.”

He kisses you again, sweeter and softer this time, but it’s only a distraction for when he initially enters you. He could tell you needed the distraction, and he was correct.

When you begin to feel him, your nails scratch his skin and he stops, staying there, waiting for your word.

He goes slow as promised every time you ask for more, and stops whenever you say so, or when your whimper is louder than expected.

Soon, though, he’s fully seated inside of you, and you feel sufficiently full. At peace. And ready for him to fucking move.

“Move, please, Damon, I need you to--”

He pulls out slightly and snaps his hips, knocking the breath out of you. He watches your face, but there are no traces of pain, only pleasure.

A rhythm slowly forms, one that you enjoy, until you need more and when you ask for more this time, Damon doesn’t hold back.

So much so that it forces a new name from your lips.

You didn’t mean to say it, but when he stops moving out of surprise, you can’t help but whine it once more. “Daddy, please.”

“God,” Damon groans, dropping his head into the crook of your neck. The rhythm this time is slow and dizzying. “Say it again.”

“Daddy,” you whimper instantly, bucking your hips, pulling him in deeper.

“Just like that,” he murmurs, lips ghosting over your vein. “You have no idea how hard it is not to just…” He pauses, letting his teeth graze over the sensitive skin there. “And when you call me that…”

“Daddy…” You cry out, feeling him nudging against your cervix.

“My sweet little girl,” he breathes. “Letting me take her virginity. That’s my Princess, my baby…” His teeth graze your skin again, teasing you, and then…

“Please,” you mumble, closing your eyes. “Do it.”

He freezes, and you feel it, but you’re tired of him freezing, so you wrap your hand around the back of his head, pressing his mouth into your neck.

“Do it,” you repeat, even more breathless. “Please.”

Damon can’t resist, not when you feel this good wrapped around him, when you’re begging, when you’re pushing him closer, yearning for it.

He speeds up his rhythm, chasing his high. He doesn’t trust himself to cum with his teeth in your neck, but he can cum right before, and sink them in while you’re cumming. The pain won’t be as intense while you’re mid-orgasm.

Almost as soon as you feel Damon’s seed spilling inside of you, your back is arching, your own waves of pleasure shooting through your body, your second orgasm of the night capturing you. And when you least expect it, because you assumed he had decided against you, Damon’s teeth sink into your neck.

It’s a feeling you’ve never felt before, but it’s one you’ll be asking for more often.

Your body relaxes, Damon’s now half-hard cock sitting snugly inside of you while he drinks from you, and when he finally is done, you’re floating blissfully.

You catch only a glimpse of his face before it returns to normal, and he kisses you gently to get your attention.

“How was your first time?”

“Amazing,” you murmur, scratching gently at the base of his skull. “Really...amazing.”

“Do you want me to move?”

“No,” you shake your head. “Stay.”

“Okay, well I need to pull out of you, but then we can cuddle.”

“Fine,” you huff, dropping your arms from his neck.

Slowly, he pulls out of you, leaving you empty once more, despite the pleasure still thrumming through your body. “You can warm my cock another time, okay Princess?”

“Hmph.”

He stands and shakes his head. “Alright, it’s nap time for you.”

You look up hopefully. “Bed?”

“Yeah, come on.” He slides his arms underneath your legs and back, lifting you up bridal style.

You’re asleep in his arms before he even makes it to your room.

[uuujeewriting]

may I request HCs for Albedo, Childe, Kaeya, Diluc and Xiao realizing their fem!darling is a yandere? like how would they feel and react?? ( i hope u don't make it too angst :(( ) - if u don't feel comfortable wrting this, i am deeply apologize, feel free to ignore this :<

stop it [albedo, childe, kaeya, diluc, xiao]

they find out their darling is a yandere! how will they fight to fix them?

tw: UNHEALTHY/TOXIC RELATIONSHIP, gore, violence, cuss words, manipulative behavior, obsessive and possessive behavior, murder

albedo x fem! reader, childe x fem! reader, kaeya x fem! reader, diluc x fem! reader, xiao x fem! reader

a/n: just a note that this behavior should not be romanticized and should not be followed! i believe that the boys would not condone this behavior either. sorry that this took a while nonnie! hope this is to your liking.

i would like to clarify that if any of these scenarios/hc's of mine are similar to other writers' works, it is unintentional and i apologize

not proof read

albedo

it came to him when he started picking up on your possessive behavior

he first found it quite unusual, how defensive you were when people–even his own students–pointed out how much you hogged the man to yourself

it was no secret you loved him, albeit maybe you did a little too much 

for the first few days of this repetitive behavior of yours, he didn’t seem to take it too seriously, he even indulges your fantasies when he found the time to do so

calling him yours alone and how everyone wouldn't matter, just as his queen said

how foolish of him to feed into this obsessive mindset of yours, he now knows

the kreideprinz was a fearless man, never submitting even to the most nerve-wracking of consequences

you should earn an award for making him tremble

face to face with your gruesome figure, albedo hesitates to move

finally, you break the tension

“what’s wrong, my love? is something bothering you?” you ask, taking a step forward

“stay back. don’t you dare touch me- i-..” he grows speechless

you slowly retreated to your space, pouting

“is it this corpse? i’m sorry, but she was getting in the way! always asking about your whereabouts and such, truly a burden-”

“sucrose was my assistant! why the hell wouldn’t she ask about me?!” his heart rate quickened, the blond has never experienced this much terror in his life

you grew silent, taking in the chief alchemist’s words

he feels his heart drop to his feet when he sees you smile slowly

“well, there’s nothing we can do about it now, hm?” you hug albedo after throwing the bat you used to bash open your victim’s skull, tainted with putrid crimson 

you laugh and bury your head in his chest but you notice droplets of water falling to your scalp

you look up at your quivering love and he stares back at you

“i’ll fix you, i’ll do whatever it takes to change those despicable temptations of yours and i’ll get you back, y/n.”

childe

childe was naturally clingy, never letting you out of his sight for more than two minutes. as a result, he didn't pick up on the subtle signs of your toxic behavior

what made him question this was your unreasonably foul attitude towards his family

one night, you and him visited his siblings in snezhnaya to have dinner

he was jubilant to say the least, the love of his life will finaly get the chance to meet the people he loved just as much as her!

"why are you so excited to see your siblings?" your question left him dumbfounded

did you not want to see them?

"well, y/n my dear, if there was anything i loved nore than you; it would be my beloved family!" he chuckles

when you reach his house, he's so excited that he misses how your eyes darken when he knocks at the door

"big brother! you're here!" teucer jumps in joy and hugs his sibling, the brother in question hugs back lovingly

how you hated it, make it end already

"teucer! i've missed you, too. how are sister tonia and the others?" childe smiles

was your presence suddenly not the most important thing anymore to him?

oh no, you're not going to let this happen

you cough and childe looks back at you, apologizing

"sorry, babe. come inside, i'll introduce you to the others." he takes your hand and guides you indoors to the living room

at the sight of their dear big brother, the group of siblings raced and laced their arms around him one way or another

childe laughs and attempts to stretch to hug all of then at the same time, only being able to circle two of his siblings

you felt inadequate again, damn siblings.

as childe introduces you to his family as his girlfriend, you didn't bother to mask your dislike for them

this concerns your beloved to the highest caliber

dinner rolls around and uncharacteristically, you offer to help out with preparing the food

childe was reluctant but overall, he couldn't deny a chance for you to finally change your views on atleast one of his siblings

"thank you for allowing me to help, tonia." you smile, feigningly to clarify

"it's no problem, i should be thanking you for insisting." she laughs and leaves the food on the counter to grab a condiment placed on the opposite side of the kitchen

quickly and silently, you scan the premises for what you needed

you find a container of rubbing alcohol in a compartment

grinning, you took it and spilled half the container into the water jug to be served

discarding of the half-empty bottle and putting the jug's lid back on, tonia returns and continues preparing the food

perfect.

when the food and tampered water was served, you replaced childe's glass of water swiftly

one of the siblings drinks the water and after a few minutes, he excuses himself while coughing

tonia was next and then teucer, childe was going insane and growing more and more concerned

finally having enough, he checks the food and once he smells the strong scent of alcohol in the jug of water, his eyes widen

he turns to you, his heart sinking at your triumphant expression

"y/n, how could you?!" he furrows his eyebrows, what happened to his beloved?

"they were taking you away from me. what was i supposed to do?" you raise an eyebrow

he clenches his fist. when he hears his siblings suffering, he heaves heavily

"we'll talk about this later and i swear to the gods i will change your attitude."

kaeya

kaeya is perceptive, he may have picked up on your despicable views earlier than the rest

how? don't question, it's his responsibility to take care of you

he does nothing at first, finding your obsessive behavior harmless at the present time

however, he draws the line after one particular event

"haha, well- if it weren't for how you sneaked through headquarter grounds, i wouldn't have had to waste my time tracking you down." he peers sarcastically at rosaria, he latter scoffing

"it's none of my business what you find suspicious." she sips on the wine she was holding

kaeya lets out a 'tch' and looks away, clearly upset

he arrives home to you cooking supper, his arms snaking around your waist

you smile, "bad day?" you ask, you know how he gets when he's dim and gloomy

"not particularly, but just had some trouble with sister rosaria."

what?

"what about her?" your grip on the ladle tightens

"nothing, it's really not a big deal." he palms your hand, kissing your neck

"oh, alright. if you say so, love." you state, but he should've watched what he says

you had your mind set and there was no stopping you

around 2-3 am you sneaked out of your shared home with the captain.

grabbing a cloak and satchel which incased your belongings, you head out into the streets

'where could that damn nun be at this time of night?'

you ponder for a good few minutes until-

bingo; clearing camps.

sneaking past the knights is rather easy, distract them with a rabbit and all is good

pulling the hood of the cloak lower to hide your face, you speed into the wilderness in search of rosaria

you find the preoccupied nun vanquishing a camp of hilichurls around the whispering woods, too busy to notice your presence

opening your satchel, you take your mask and secure it to your face

time to go through with the plan you'd devised.

"huh-?" rosaria hadn't reacted fast enough and you managed to tackle her to the ground after the last hilichurl was disposed of

she chokes on your hold and attempts to shove you off, only for her attempt to whiff

grabbing the polearm she had in her dominant hand, you twirl it and use it to replace your hand on her throat, choking her with ger own weapon

"w-who in t-the world..?" rosaria glares and struggles to keep herself conscious

you smirked, putting more pressure on the polearm

she grows more and more panicked, you bask in her expression of utter helplessness

she should have known better than to mess with you

to mess with kaeya

this is what she gets

you are going to have your way

yes, almost there-

"not quite, fiend."

suddenly, you get pulled back by the hood and you gasp in shock

rosaria recovers quickly and stands up, snatching back her weapon from your distracted figure

"though i hate to admit it, you sure can be a helpful comrade, cavalry captain." the nun scoffs

your blood went cold

"now who in the seven nations might this rodent be?" kaeya frowns, you attempt to struggle from his grip but to no avail

he takes off your disguise and you purse your lips

"..y/n?" rosaria questions, much more confused than your lover

"i had a feeling." kaeya remarks, surprising both you and the nun

"kaeya, you understand right? she upset you, she made you go through all that work just for you to find out it was some shady bitch roaming around the fucking city!" the two wince at your vulgar language, clearly not having any of it

"what's done is done." rosaria states and goes ahead to return to mond

kaeya lets you go and crosses his arms, disappointed in you

"you should know better, y/n. i'll have you know that although i love you dearly, this behavior of yours is not what i want from you." he reprimands you and you furrow your brows

"it's just me showing my love for you, i don't see what's wrong."

your statement makes the knight sigh

this is going to be a long night for the both of you

diluc

diluc wouldn't be too busy to spend time with you, but he'd be too busy to take notice of your toxicity

you lived in the manor, because of this, you had access to everything in the site

and when i say everything, i mean everything

yes, he trusted you too much and that's his downfall

not his, but rather a maid's

you were aware of his darknight hero duties and he made sure that you did, kissing you goodbye before leaving to rinse the land of roaming dangers

one night in particular, a certain head maid had made you quite envious

offering diluc a glass of grape juice, fixing his collar before he goes on about his daily stroll, even daring to clean his shared bedroom with you! my, how audacious she is.

after giving you a tender kiss, your lover heads out into the night and leaves you with the maids, giving you the opportunity to continue on your devious ways

calling adelinde into the garden, she comes along with the items you requested

two towels, a fork and a plate

of course she questioned it but who was she to deny her master's sweetheart?

with shaking limbs, she made her way towards the garden

"ah, finally. you're here," you make your way towards adelinde and she gulps

"i-i have the items you requested, miss y/n," she hands you the three objects that will serve a huge purpose tonight

"thank you," you smile at her as she attempts to smile and bow respectfully

"if that is all, i shall take my leave." she retreats into the manor

or atleast, she thoughts she was going to

quickly, you roll the towel and gag adelinde with it, tying the towel together and stabbing it to her nape with the fork with brute force

she screams for a split second and you smile, quickly bashing her head with the plate.

looking down at your doing, you grin impossibly wide

"miss y/n, why couldn't you have simply knocked her out first as to avoid her creating a rather loud shriek?" elzer sighed

"i wanted to hear her in agony, is that odd?" you raise an eyebrow at the chairman

he shakes his head, "no, not at all, master."

the next day, diluc is faced with a rather odd feeling of dread

as he finds adelinde, ironically, nowhere to be found, he immediately asks elzer which in turn is sworn to secrecy by you

it completely drove him mad, and you tried to take his mind off the maid yet he only pushed you aside

this angered you to the core

"what–is that maid more important than me now, after all this work i've done for you?!" you yelled at him and he huffs in annoyance

"what do you mean work?!" he yells back

"what could you have possibly done for me-" "i got rid of that bitch!"

he freezes, what did you just say?

you, there's no way. you aren't serious right? he must've misheard you, there's no fucking possibility that his head maid was de-

"she's gone. i made sure of it."

diluc feels a boiling sensation in his stomach and he takes your wrist to drag you to the outside of his office

"y/n, you better tell me where she is or i swear to barbatos i'm going to-"

he stops himself. what was he going to do? the same thing you had just done?

you smile at his realization, circling him

"see? you were just about to be hypocritical there, love." you chuckle

diluc gritted his teeth and steadies himself

he's going to teach you a lesson one way or another, but never in his life will he come to commit the crime you'd done

xiao

the adeptus neither cared nor disliked the things you do for him, however, when you stepped out of line one day, he began to watch over you like a hawk

it was when the traveler, lumine, visited your adeptus lover

you were excited to see xiao, you had two plates of almond tofu in hand and was stepping up the staira to the balcony

you hummed a little tune to yourself

"first hilichurl got sick, second hilichurl took care, third hilichurl gathers medicine, fourth hilichurl prepares-"

you halt your singing when you hear laughter

laughter from a woman, huffs from a man

an adeptus

your adeptus

"xiao, thanks for meeting up with me today, i really appreciate it." lumine smiles at the yaksha, "we would've been at a loss if it weren't for you."

frowning, you step back and watch them from behind the opening of the balcony

"i am in no need of your reassurance, puny mortal. it was a necessity for rex lapis' sake, do not take it any other way." he says, although the flush of his face was an obvious indicator that he also cared for his friend

"yeah, whatever you say xiao." paimon laughed and lumine soon after

fuck. you felt something break on your foot.

xiao and the traveler snapped their heads to your direction–

only to find nothing there

"i'll go check on it," lumine offers and xiao simply nods, finishing the tofu she brought for him

the blonde traveller walks to the scene and sees a plate of almond tofu in bits and pieces

"eh?... what's all this?" she questions

she crouches down to observe the scene

her fault.

"AH-!" lumine tumbles down the stairs with you on top of her

not giving her time to react, you punch her in the face repeatedly

"don't-" smack in the face

"try-" punch up her chin

"to-" bash her head on the floor

"take-" punch to the left

"him!" punch to the right

verr goldet and paimon cries for you to stop, the former prying you off the bruised blonde

xiao hears the commotion and sees the traveller's nose bleeding and your figure heaving on the ground, fists clenched

if verr goldet hadn't pulled you away, you would've killed the girl

xiao huffs and shakes visibly

"what is all this?" he angrily mumbles, "care to explain yourself, y/n?"

"xiao-" you begin to cry, "why would you spend time with her? i'm hurt of course!"

"you intend to tell me you're the only one i can talk to?" he raises his tone

"yes!" you whimper

unbelievable

"..verr goldet, bring the traveller to a healer, y/n, come with me." he holds a stoic expression

he was beyond angry

following him to the balcony, he keeps a distance from you, about three steps away.

finally coming to a stop, he faces you.

"i don't know what got onto you, but we're going to solve this," he crosses his arms, "right here, right now."

[watchmegetobsessed]

Serendipity - Part II. (Harry Styles)

a/n: hello lovelies! thank you so much for the likes and reblogs on the first part, i hope you are enjoying the ride so far! here is part 2 for yall and as always, i would LOVE to read your comments and feedbacks!

pairing: Harry x OC (Annalise Lloyd)

word count: 8k

SERIES MASTERPOST  ⚫️ my masterlist  ⚫️  come and talk to me about Serendipity!  

Serendipity (n.) Finding something good without looking for it.

Annalise finishes up the lasagna with shredding some cheese on the top before sliding it right into the oven, listening to Benji reading up the text from his book, struggling with some longer words, but then manages to put it together in his head at the end. The doorbell rings and she tosses the dirty dishes into the sink.

“Good job, Benji. Read that last part,” she smiles down at the boy, sitting at the kitchen island, his legs dangling, hanging down on the tall stool, arms placed on the counter, his eyes following the lines.

“…However… the rabbit… slept longer…” Benji carries on as Annalise walks to the door, already knowing who’s gonna stand on the other side.

“Hi girl!” Chloé smiles at her upon pulling her into a hug before she walks in.

“Hey, I just put the lasagna in,” she smiles back at her best friend.

“Oh, amazing! Hi Benji! How is my favorite little dude?” Chloé scruffs his light brown locks, the little boy smirking up at her as she sits on the stool next to him.

“Hi Chloé! Wanna see my new dinosaur?” he asks, excitement sparkling in his eyes.

“Well of course! You know I love dinosaurs!” she cheers and Benji is already about to climb off the stool, but she stops him.

“Hey, what about reading? Have you finished?”

The look in his eyes tells her the truth that he hasn’t reached the end yet, he sucks his lips into his mouth, trying his best not to smile slyly. She can’t help but chuckle and shake her head at him.

“Okay, you can go,” she sighs and he is fast to shut the book and jolt upstairs to get his newest toys. Annalise just stares after him with a delighted smile.

“So what’s up? I can tell something happened today,” Chloé starts, leaning on her elbows on the counter, eyes examining her friend.

“How can you tell?” she chuckles furrowing her eyebrows as she puts away the leftover ingredients.

“I can see that little shine in your eyes,” she grins pointing at her. “So spill it!”

Sighing she washes her hands and dries them on the kitchen towel before she leans against the counter, folding her arms on her chest.

“Remember the guy I met on New Year’s Eve?” Chloé’s eyes light up at the mention of the mystery guy Annalise met a while ago, but she didn’t tell much about him, just that they had a great time and he kissed her. She was also mad at her when she found out she didn’t even give him her number, but has gotten herself over it by now.

“The musician? Of course!”

“Alright, so there are two things about him,” she starts, wanting to come clear, but right as she would continue, Benji appears, holding his latest toy, a vicious looking T-Rex in his hands.

“Chloé! Look!” he beams, handing her the figure.

“Oh, wow! This looks so cool! Does it have a name?”

“I call him Reggie!” Benji proudly states, making both women smile, because only he would name a murderous dinosaur Reggie.

“Love it, Bud. I’m almost jealous!” Benji grins up at her, hugging the toy to his chest.

“Hey, Benji, why don’t you go watch the telly a little, so we can talk over here?” Annalise asks and he surely likes the idea.

“Bye!” he sings running off without a question and a few moments later they hear the telly turning on with whatever cartoon he has turned on this time. Chloé turns back to Annalise, eager to hear what she has to tell.

“So hot guy musician, go on,” she gestures as Annalise leans onto the kitchen island across her.

“Hot guy musician’s name is Harry Styles,” she mumbles, lowering her voice, as if someone else was around and could hear her say that. At the same time, Chloé’s eyes basically leave his sockets, widened to the point where Annalise thinks she completely zoned out.

“What the fuck?” she whisper-yells, careful not to let Benji hear her cursing. “Lis! That’s like a major point you left out!”

“I know! I just… I never thought I would ever see him again, so I thought I would keep it to myself.”

“Wait, so you met him?” she gasps, almost falling off the stool, making Annalise laugh.

“I ran into him at Tesco today. Totally randomly in the cereal aisle.”

“Oh my God, I think I’m gonna have a heart attack,” Chloé gasps, placing her hands on her chest, taking some deep breaths. “So what happened? Did he recognize you or what? Wait! You were with Benji?” she gasps again and Annalise nods shortly. “You said you didn’t tell him you had a kid, oh my god!”

“It was so fucking awkward, I wanted to die,” Annalise chuckles awkwardly. “He came up to me all nice and flirty and I was in full panic mode and he was telling me how I didn’t give him my number and then Benji ran up to me calling me mummy.”

“Jesus, I wish I was there to witness it,” Chloe snorts and Annalise gives her a look, though she sees why she finds it funny, she is just not there yet to laugh about it. “What did he do?”

“I sent off Benji to get something and tried to explain it, he was shocked, to say the least. But he was more upset about the fact that I didn’t tell him, rather than that I was a mother. He thought I was married and that’s why I ran off.”

“Can’t blame him, would have definitely crossed my mind too,” Chloé comments with raised eyebrows. “So what else happened?”

“He was desperate to get my number, like literally desperate. When I paid, I could see the panic in his eyes that I’ll flee before he could pay his stuff and come after me. Felt bad for him, so I waited for him.”

“Oh my! You were giving him a chance already!” she cheers and Annalise shakes her head.

“I was not! I wasn’t planning to do anything!”

“Oh but you were. You can deny it all you want, but I can see right through you,” Chloé snorts and Annalise just rolls her eyes at her. “Okay, so what happened then?”

“He convinced me to give him my number. But I told him I’m not looking to date, he said he just wants to be friends. For now.”

“The dude wants to fuck the shit out of you.”

“Chlo!” you snap at her, glancing in the way of the living room, making sure Benji didn’t hear her.

“What? It’s the truth!” she laughs, clearly enjoying the sight of you all blushed and nervous.

“Well, that’s not gonna happen. I’m not getting myself into anything.”

“You mean a nice, satisfying relationship with a clearly amazing guy who is on his knees already for you? Yeah, sounds horrible,” she scoffs, earning another hard look from Annalise.

“No one is talking about relationships. Maybe he does just want to fuck,” she answers with a shrug.

“What’s so wrong about that?”

“Chloé,” she sighs shaking her head.

“I know, I know. You are pretending to be a nun just because you have a kid. I get it.”

Annalise rolls her eyes at her, taking a glance at the oven to make sure the dinner hasn’t burned down yet. It’s clear that the two of them are not on the same page when it comes to Harry. Chloé understands her closed-up behavior when it comes to dating, but she thinks Annalise is taking it a little too far, while Annalise thinks it’s perfectly fine to shut every male out of her life.

Just as they settle in a short silence, Annalise’s phone lights up with a buzz, signaling that she got a text. They both turn in its direction immediately, Annalise’s stomach dropping before her eyes snap at her friend.

“Is that him?” she asks, urging her friend to check the sender. Annalise walks over and grabbing the phone from the counter her lips part seeing the name on the screen.

Harry: Hope you haven’t spiraled and regretted giving me your number just yet.

“What’s he saying?” Chloé asks in excitement.

“Just… asking if I’ve regretted giving him my number.”

“Tell him you want to suck his di—“

“Don’t you dare finish that,” she warns her, typing her response to the text.

Lis: I’m sorry, who is this?

Harry: … very funny!

Lis: Sorry, I had to. And no, I haven’t regretted it, though I’m close to spiraling.

Harry: Oh no, then I have to do something about that quickly!

“You cheeky slut,” Chloé murmurs right from behind her, making her jump, because she didn’t realize she was standing there.

“Fuck, don’t scare me like that!” she scolds her before returning to the text thread. “And I’m not a cheeky slut.”

“Yeah, you are. Totally flirting with him.”

“We have very different definitions of flirting then.”

Harry: When do you have lunch break tomorrow?

Lis: Usually around 12.30

Harry: text me the address, I’ll be there

“Shit, he wants to have lunch with me tomorrow,” she sucks on her breath looking up at Chloé, who read the whole thing shamelessly over her shoulder.

“So what?”

“Should I say yes?” Annalise looks at her in panic, feeling like a lost, nervous teenage girl.

“Oh my God! If you don’t say yes I’m gonna literally murder you, Lis!” she groans, her head falling back in annoyance.

“Alright, alright! No need to be so harsh!” She quickly turns her attention back to the screen and just sends the address without a comment. No reply comes, he just likes the message.

“I hope he fucks you in a restaurant toilet,” Chloé bluntly comments, making Annalise’s jaw drop.

“You are so vulgar, I shouldn’t even let you into this household with that dirty mouth of yours!”

“Oh come on, I know it took you years to stop cursing around Benji, I’m pretty sure one of his first words were fuck.”

“That is not true! I hate you, why are we even friends?” Annalise grimaces, grabbing her oven mittens to check on the lasagna.

“Because I’m fun, I’m honest and I babysit for you sometimes,” Chloé lists with a proud smile on her face as Annalise pulls the dish out of the oven, the warm smell of the fresh lasagna immediately filling the kitchen.

“Right, remind me of that more often, please.”

They set the table together and Lis calls for Benji, who abandons the couch without a word. Annalise has always been grateful for having such an unproblematic boy. Becoming a mother at such a young age, she had many doubts and fears about how things would turn out and the worst was that she would somehow ruin him, watch him turn into a deviant, low-life criminal. Though Benji is only six and a lot can happen in his life that lies ahead of him, Annalise has been feeling a sense of relief whenever she looked at him. The way he handles his everydays, doing what he is told to do right away without a second guess or throwing a fuss, it makes her think that maybe, probably… hopefully she did a good job raising him. As a single parent, having been one for years now, this is all she wishes above all the happiness in the world for her son. 

The three of them sit at the small dining table, eating dinner while Benji rambles about how excited he is about the field trip that’s coming up soon, his teacher is taking the whole class to the zoo and Benji is over the moon to see his favorite animals up close.

“Which one do you want to see the most?” Chloé questions, pointing her fork at the boy.

“Giraffes and the monkeys!” Benji cheers, bringing a smile to his mother’s face, seeing him so enthusiastic about it. She knows that Benji doesn’t just want to see the animals, but can’t wait to learn about them. He is a curious little guy, Annalise knows that already.

Chloé helps to clean up the kitchen and they hang around the living room a little longer before it’s nearing Benji’s bedtime. Annalise walks her friend out, hugging her goodbye at the front door, but before Chloé could leave, she turns back around and gives a hard look to Lis.

“I’m serious about this whole Harry situation. Please don’t close up entirely, alright? You deserve to have some fun, get to know him better. You could never know what’ll turn it out to be.”

“That’s what scares me,” she mumbles quietly, eyes fixated on her feet. “Not knowing how it’ll end.”

“Take the chance. Live a little. You haven’t since… graduation?”

Annalise keeps quiet, biting the inside of her cheeks. She hasn’t let herself completely relax since she found out she was pregnant. Being barely out of high school, having to deal with the fact that she would be a somewhat teenmom was shocking enough for her to regulate her whole life to the point where she couldn’t even remember the last time she actually enjoyed herself without a worry. That night in the pub, Harry managed to make her feel that sense of freedom. Like she could finally let go of everything that keeps her tied down into this strictness in her everydays. For one night, she had no worries, no fears, she just allowed herself to be… herself. Her old self for once.

“You deserve it, Lis. Don’t convince yourself that you don’t.”

She just nods without a word and lets Chloé embrace her in another hug before she walks down the stairs of the small townhouse and makes her way home with one last wave in her direction at the door.

Annalise’s proudest achievement is that even with a child and being a single mom, she managed to get a college degree and score a job she actually likes. No, she adores what she does. As a caretaker at a retirement home. She works from nine in the morning until four in the afternoon. Her boss let her have those one hours bunch up and get pushed back to Saturdays so she could drop Benji off at school easier on weekdays. Having to work on Saturdays weren’t a big deal, because Benji usually came with her, have the best time with the elders in the home while Annalise worked, they even helped him with homework. They would have lunch somewhere after work and have the rest of the day to themselves. 

Going to work the next day Annalise can’t push her excitement down, thinking about seeing Harry later that day. Arriving to the home she is immediately met with Eloise and Bart, one of her favorite pairs in the home. The old woman’s eyes light up the moment Annalise walks through the door and she greets her brightly.

“My Darling! Good morning!” she beams as Annalise approaches them. “How are you?”

“I’m splendid, how about you, Elly?”

“Fantastic. Bart promised me to take a walk in the park today, right Bart?”

The quiet man nods with a shy smile. They are quite the pair, Annalise always thought. Elly being a chatty, lively, social butterfly, while Bart was more the kind to stand behind and let his lady shine and Annalise always found that endearing. 

“How is Benji?” Bart questions shortly.

“He’s good, getting better with reading day by day,” she smiles.

“I can sense something on you, Darling,” Elly comments, narrowing her makeup-covered eyes at Annalise. “There’s a little sparkle in your eyes, want to share what that’s about?”

Annalise chuckles shaking her head. Nothing and no one can fool Elly, she reads people like she does with the morning paper, easily seeing through them without a fuss.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” she smiles, though they both know it’s a lie, but Elly lets it slip.

Annalise says goodbye to them and heads to the dressing room to get ready for the day. Though all her thoughts were about Harry in the morning, once she gets down to work she easily shifts her focus back on her tasks. The hours slip by faster than she expected, always having to do something, and before she notices, there’s only ten more minutes till the time she told Harry she’d be getting her lunch break.

She finishes up changing the sheets in one of the rooms, drops off the dirty ones at the washing room before heading back to the break room to collect herself a little before Harry arrives. She thinks it’s silly, but she feels like an excited little girl with a crush, finally seeing her favorite boy on the playground. She never bothered to lie to herself about how attracted she is to Harry, because it’s quite obvious. She’s just still not sure what she really expects from the situation on her hands.

She pulls her hair tie out of her ponytail, letting her hair fall to her shoulders in loose waves. Tapping under her eyes she gets rid of a mascara smudge, fixing up her makeup quickly before she takes one last look at herself in the mirror. She is definitely not trying to look like she wants to impress the man, but she doesn’t want to look like a mess either.

Her phone vibrates in the pocket of her light pink scrubs and fishing the device out her heart leaps upon seeing the sender of the text message.

Harry: I’m right outside.

Lis: Coming!

She pulls on her knitted sweater she wore in the morning and throws on her coat before grabbing her wallet and heading out. 

“I’m eating out today, I’ll be back soon,” she calls out at the station downstairs where some of her colleagues are seated. They all smile back at her, carrying on with their work as she walks out the double doors of the home. 

Her eyes immediately find the tall frame leaning against the little gate that separates the foregarden of the home from the street. Harry is dressed in a pair of black pants and a navy blue sweater under his black coat, a pair of sunglasses covering his intent green eyes. 

“Hi,” he greets her, his smile bringing his dimples out as he watches her walk out the small gate and stand in front of him.

“Hey. Found the place easily?” she asks with a soft smile.

“Yeah, it was all good. Ready to leave?”

“Yes, but I need to be back in an hour.”

“That’s perfectly fine,” Harry smiles and walks her over to the black Range Rover parked at the sidewalk, opening up the passenger side for her. She mumbles a quiet thank you sitting inside and once Harry is behind the wheel too, she turns to him feeling her nerves creeping up on her neck like it’s the first time they are seeing each other.

“Where are we heading?” she asks, but Harry just smiles in her way starting the car and leaving from the home.

“You’ll see.”

Harry effortlessly strikes up a conversation, asking Annalise about how long she’s been working at the home and why she chose it. She finds herself easily sharing all the information.

“I’ve been working at Golden Sunshine for about three years now. I absolutely love it, my boss is very flexible and understanding, which is kind of essential in my… situation.” 

“And why did you choose to be a caretaker?”

“I don’t know, I was always told that I’m great with taking care of others and I think I’m patient, which is great when you work with elders, especially when they have different health problems, having a hard time remembering simple things. You can’t imagine how many times I need to introduce myself to residents that’s been living there for years,” she chuckles softly. “But it’s alright. I like helping them, making these last chapters of their life as peaceful and comfortable as possible.”

Harry glances in her way with a genuine smile and he needs to push down the sudden urge to envelope her in his arms. He is fascinated by how big of a heart Annalise has and that she’s not afraid to share it.

“I bet they all love you,” he smirks, glancing at her shortly.

“I guess,” she shyly shrugs. “Though I think they love Benji more.”

Her smile fades for a moment. She can’t help but feel nervous to bring Benji up in front of Harry. She still doesn’t know for sure how he really feels about him and she is not trying to be the kind of mother who can’t talk about anything else than her kid.

Harry senses the change in her and is quick to clear the water.

“Lis, don’t feel bad about talking about Benji.”

“I just don’t know if…”

“If I want to hear about him?” he helps her out and she nods shortly. “I do. I think I made it pretty clear that I’m interested in you and that involves everything. Benji as well. I know he is a big part of your life so I wanna hear all about him. You don’t have to hold yourself back around me, alright?”

“I guess I’m just not used to… a man being interested in him.”

“I assume you had some bad dating experiences.”

“You could say that,” she chuckles bitterly.

“How did they react when they found out about him?”

Annalise doesn’t even realise that they have parked down and Harry has stopped the car. They sit there and Harry listens to her intently, genuinely interested in anything she shares.

 “Guys my age are not really ready to deal with a child. Most of them swore it wasn’t an issue, but at the end… it always was. So then I stopped talking about it, but I quickly realized that it’s not something I can just not tell.”

“Obviously,” Harry nods.

“So now I just don’t know what to do and what not to do.”

“Well, I know you’ve heard it plenty of times, but I really mean it that it’s not an issue to me in any way. From what I saw, he looks like a great little guy and though I was a little shocked last time when I met him, I’m not against seeing him again, if that’s how things turn out to be. I like kids, I really do, so don’t feel bad about talking about him. I want you to. I’m asking you to.”

Annalise is not sure how to react. She still has a lot on her heart and mind, but she genuinely believes Harry, something is just telling her that she can. Not sure what it is about him, but she is trying not to overthink it.

Moving her gaze away from him she looks out the window and sees that they are parked near a little park.

“Where are we?”

“One of my favorite places,” Harry smiles getting out of the car and Lis follows him to the trunk. 

He opens it up and there’s an old fashioned basket, one she always sees in movies when they are having a picnic. Harry grabs the basket and shuts the trunk once he has everything he needs and then the two of them start walking further into the greenery.

“I come here sometimes, just because not many people know it exists so it’s quite peaceful most of the time. Easy to stay unnoticed, ya know?”

Lis nods as they follow the graveled path that leads through the small park, squished between townhouses. It really isn’t big, she can see the other end from where they are, but there’s a lot to do and see. A nice playground takes up most of the space, but there are several benches, a little fountain a little further down the way, chess tables and even a small group of abstract monuments that’s also used as a playground by some kids. Annalise finds the place endearing and it’s like a hint of magic in the middle of the city. 

They aim for a bench, Harry sets down the picnic basket between them and opens up the lid, revealing that it’s filled with goodies.

“I wasn’t sure what you like or don’t like, so I packed a whole bunch of stuff,” he truthfully admits, making Annalise smile as she watches him roam through the basket, pulling some stuff out.

He really did think of everything. There are loads of fruits, sandwiches, all kinds with and without meat, cut vegetables, sauces, snacks, both sweet and salty. Even the worst picky eater would find something to eat in the load Harry packed for their lunch.

“You could have asked what I liked so you didn’t have to do all this,” she shyly tells him, but he just smiles at him with his head tilted.

“Wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Well, I’m surprised, so you succeeded,” she admits with a soft chuckle as Harry’s fist pumps into the air in victory, making her laugh.

Annalise chooses to eat a ham and cheese sandwich while Harry chooses one with salami in it and they have the little container filled with veggies sitting on the basket so they both can reach it.

Suddenly, she can feel the guilt crawling up her back and neck, reaching all her thoughts about how bad it was that she didn’t tell him about Benji. Even with her intentions of never seeing him again, she should have told him or at least mentioned it when she saw his interest in her. It’s been a struggle of hers for so long, wanting to protect herself and Benji, but also knowing that it’s not information you should keep to yourself for too long.

“I uhh-- I want to apologize,” she speaks up, breaking the comfortable silence between them.

“For what exactly?”

“For, um… That I didn’t tell you about Benji. I know I should have, but I--”

“You didn’t plan on seeing me ever again. I get it.” Glancing over at him, she sees that there’s no sign of anger or disappointment in his eyes, just a calm smile stretched across his face. “I’m fine to move on from this part. I understand your reasoning and I’m not mad at all. Would have been nice to know, but it’s all fine.”

“Are you really okay with it or are you just saying it because you know it’s what I want to hear?”

“I really mean it,” he tells her, looking at her with eyes that are completely open and she can read them like a book. She feels the relief coming over her.

“Okay. I just still want you to know that I’m sorry. It’s not like I’m ashamed of him or being a mother.”

“Doesn’t look like that.” Harry chews on his sandwich before speaking up again. “Can I ask… what’s the situation--I mean--”

“About the father?” she guesses and Harry nods. “Um… We started dating in tenth grade, he was my first… everything. First kiss, first boyfriend, first… love.”

Harry ignores the bitter taste in his mouth as she talks about loving this mystery man, but he chooses to stay silent as he waits for her to continue.

“I was planning my future with him, though looking back after the first year I was just desperately trying to hold onto the idea of being in a relationship, having a partner, it wasn’t healthy for sure.” She lets her hands fall to her lap, holding the remaining of her sandwich as she carries on. “So then, not long after graduation came the shocking news that I was pregnant. We barely turned eighteen, it was a proper shock for the both of us, I was terrified. We kept it to ourselves for a few days, trying to figure out what to do, but then I told my parents.”

She falls quiet for a moment and Harry doesn’t say a word, just lets her take her time, continue whenever she feels like. 

It’s been long since she told anyone about how she ended up being where she is, given the fact that her small circle consists of Chloé and her parents. She’s known Chloé since elementary school, she was there through the whole process, didn’t have to tell her the story. Outside that, she doesn’t go around and talks about getting pregnant at eighteen so she definitely needs to pull her thoughts together now.

“They were mad. Like, so fucking mad, I thought they are going to disown me,” she huffs with a bitter chuckle.

“Did they?” Harry finds himself asking.

“No. I could feel their disappointment for a while, but they said that they want to help me and be present. It never occurred to them to ever throw me out. I just had to deal with seeing it in their eyes for months.”

She scratches her neck, taking a deep breath and trying to find her words to get back to the story. To her story.

“So I figured out that I want to keep the baby and I told Austin about it.”

“Austin?”

“Oh, yeah. His name is Austin.”

Harry notices how she used present time, so he knows that the reason why he is not present is not because something happened and he died. Austin is very much alive, just chooses to be a douche and not care for his son.

“He tried to convince me to get an abortion, but I didn’t want to, so he had to accept my decision. Though he didn’t shy away from voicing his disapproval. Anyway, we tried to stay together, but it was just a whole lot. I didn’t know if I would ever be able to uni, I wanted to support myself financially and not live on my parents’ money, I just couldn’t deal with his behavior which was absolute trash.”

“Did he ever…?” Harry trails, hoping he doesn’t have to finish the sentence and she will know what he means. Luckily, she does.

“No. Austin never hit me, I think he is too chicken to do that, but he surely liked to give me all the pain through his words. Treated me like shit and I think he was trying to bully me into breaking up with him, so it wouldn’t be him who left his pregnant girlfriend.”

“Fucking asshole,” Harry mumbles, not able to hold himself back. He can feel the rage crawling up his neck, numbing his fingers, aching to bring justice. 

“Yeah,” she nods. “Well, he succeeded and I threw him out when I was in the eighth month. He tried to stay present for a while. He was there when Benji was born, though not in the room, but he was there. And he genuinely tried to get into the role of being a father, but I guess he just… couldn’t. He started coming over less and less until he barely even asked about Benji once a week, only seeing him a few times a month. And I still don’t know if I should have tried to reach out and help him connect with Benji and just the idea of being a dad, but… I didn’t. I just watched him break all contact with us and disappear into thin air. By the time Benji turned two, I couldn’t even tell if Austin still lived in our town or not. Haven’t heard from him in about three years,” she finishes and Harry is left at a loss of words. He can only imagine what it was like to go through all of this at such a young age.

“Though it seems like everything turned shit, I still think that I managed to bring the best out of it. A year later than my peers but I started uni, my school offered a chance for people like me to have a special timetable, manage my courses more losely than others, so I had only two days when I had to go in and I could bring Benji with me if I wanted. My teachers were super helpful so I got my degree and moved up to London when I got the job at Golden Sunshine.”

“Weren’t you afraid of moving out from your parents? I assume they helped you a lot in the beginning.”

“Oh, I was,” she chuckles softly, bringing a smile to his lips too. “I couldn’t have done it without them, and I’m very thankful for them. The moment they saw Benji I could feel them shift, I didn’t see the disappointment anymore, just the endless love and caring for him. They are in love with being a grandparent and maybe I could have stayed longer with them, but I wanted to find my own place, start my own life and not depend on them forever.”

“That’s very respectable,” Harry nods in awe. Not many would have thought that same way as she did in her situation. 

“I’m not saying it was easy at the beginning, because I had very little support system here in London. Luckily, my best friend, Chloé was already living here and she was always happy to help me with anything. She still is. But if I’m being honest I thought about moving back home a few times. Though I’m glad I didn’t. I think I needed to face this and I’m happy I didn’t try to push it too much, I forced myself to make the change before I could get too comfortable at home. Now I feel home here as well and I think Benji does too. I like to think that I’m doing a good job raising him, but I can only hope,” she chuckles lightly before bringing her sandwich back up to his mouth and she starts eating again. 

Silence comes over them, but it’s much needed and appreciated. It lets Annalise have a breather after everything she just shared, think about her words, while Harry is trying his best to process all the information he just learned. 

He thought he got to know her pretty well that evening when they met, having to talk to her for hours on end, but this just put her in a whole different lighting and though he wasn’t mad at her for not telling him about Benji before, he couldn’t have been now after hearing everything. Annalise went through more in just a few years than most people experience over a decade probably. And on top of everything, she nailed it all like not many could have. Harry envies her bravery and strength, her ability to start over after being thrown to the ground several times. He could have never done the same.

Harry feels the need to voice his appreciation.

“I know that you will probably doubt the validity of my words, but I just want to say that I think you are an amazing person. Everything you did, for yourself and Benji, it’s a miracle and it’s all thanks to you. If I can say that… I’m proud of you.”

Annalise is at a loss of words. She can’t remember the last time someone told her they were proud of her and she definitely did not expect to hear it from Harry, but here they were, sitting on a bench in a park, eating lunch together, seeing each other for only the third time ever. Though she was stubborn not to let her walls down too fast and easily, she can now feel them trembling. A lot. 

“Thank you,” she breathes out, feeling too shy to look him in the eyes, so she keeps her gaze fixated on her hands. 

Following the quite serious topic they just discussed, Harry manages to ease the mood a little, starting a conversation about things that are much lighter. He is pleased to see that they are able to pick up where they left on New Year’s Eve, talking and joking about basically anything without taboos. This is what has drawn him so forcefully to her right in the beginning. She is unapologetically herself regardless of who she is talking to or what she is talking about and it encourages him to be the same. He can so easily leave his ties back he usually feels on him most of the time in life. But not with Annalise. She can easily make Harry forget about the existence of any other human being on the planet and he is desperately trying to keep this feeling close to his heart. 

However that short hour is nearing its end quite soon and they are forced to head back to her workplace so she can make it back in time. Harry saw today solemnly as a chance to be her friend and strengthen her trust in him, but when they are sitting in his car heading back to the retirement home he finds himself having a hard time thinking about her in a friendly way. He wishes he could just easily switch it in his brain, but Annalise messed it all up so easily and gracefully that he can’t even be mad. However, he feels too weak to stand the tempting urge and not give in. 

As they are nearing Golden Sunshine Harry is chewing on the inside of his cheeks, gripping the wheel a little tighter than usually, trying to figure out what to do once they arrive. While right next to him, Annalise is having a somewhat similar fight with herself, because she genuinely enjoyed her time with Harry and though her strict side is telling her to keep her distance, her heart is screaming at her to let him get closer.

The car comes to a halt and they both just sit there for a few moments, lost in their own head, waiting for something to happen. Right when Annalise is about to say something and end this little meet-up on a neutral note, Harry speaks up breaking the silence.

“Annalise, I want to be very honest with you,” he starts seriously and she is a little taken aback by the tone, but nods.

“Okay.” Harry stares out the windshield, hands still on the wheel, as if he is trying to ground himself, have a grip of something solid in his fists to mask the nerves taking over him.

“I know that I said that I’m fine with being friends and I still think that, don’t get me wrong. Above anything and everything, I would love to be your friend. But I would be lying if I said I didn’t want more, because I do. I definitely do and I’m not gonna lie to myself or you. So this is kind of my warning that… I will shoot my shots as often as possible and I’ll see this—“ he gestures between him and her nervously, “as something that I want to work on and head in a…” It’s hard for him to find the right words, as if Annalise just made his mind blank when words are usually his best friends. But not now, because all he can think about is the woman sitting next to him.

Sighing he lets his hands drop to his lap, turning to face her finally, finding her bright eyes already staring back at him intently.

“I want this to head in a romantic way, Lis. I really do, because I just can’t stop this attraction I feel and if I’m being honest, I don’t even want to stop it. I remember and understand everything you said about wanting to protect Benji and how dating has been for you, but I want you to know that it doesn’t stop me from trying over and over again.”

Staring into her eyes he is desperate to read something out of them, but for once, she looks completely blank, just blinking at him, seemingly deep in her thoughts. He almost entirely regrets opening his mouth in the first place, but then she notices the tiniest smile playing on her lips.

“Okay,” she quietly says, clearly surprising Harry with her short, but unexpected reaction to his words.

“Okay?” he repeats the word, eyebrows raised at the woman beside him. Annalise nods.

“Yeah. Okay.”

Harry repeats it again in his mind, trying to find a different meaning behind it, but there’s none. It’s an okay which is neither bad nor the best kind of reaction, but way better than what he was expecting.

“Okay,” he nods, saying the word again, noticing how ridiculous this conversation just sounded, but he couldn’t care less. That okay means more than anything to him.

“Thank you for lunch,” Annalise smiles before opening the door.

“It was a pleasure,” Harry returns the smile and waves in her way, watching her shut the door and he stays right there as she walks up to the entrance. She glances back one last time, her smile widening for a split second before she disappears inside the building.

“Harry?”

Mitch’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts for probably the fifth time today as he has been far from the studio, clearly putting his mind somewhere else than into the songs they are recording.

“What? Sorry. Zoned out a little,” he mumbles rubbing his eyes, hoping to return to the present.

It’s been just two days since he has last seen Annalise and though they’ve been staying in touch through texts ever since, he is keen on seeing her as soon as possible.

“Care to share what’s got your thoughts occupied?” Sarah chimes in from the corner of the room. Her comment is not harsh or rude, more like curious and kind of delighted. Studio sessions between Harry and the band have always been seen as more of a creative environment where they get to do anything that helps the workflow, rather than a compulsion or pressure to create. They all know it’s not how good music is born, so it has never been taken badly when someone was not at the top of their game.

“If I had a guess I would say it starts with L and ends with Is,” Adam smirks from his chair, mindlessly pushing himself to left and right, his eyes watching Harry.

“I’m just trying to figure out what to do next.”

“Have something on your mind?” Sarah questions, leaning forward to rest is elbows on her knees.

“I do, but I just don’t know where the boundaries lie with Benji. If she would let me… meet him, I guess,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair, leaving his locks fall messily back, before they slowly return to frame his forehead.

“Why don’t you just ask her?” Mitch easily questions.

“I just feel like… I’m walking on eggshells. What if she takes it the wrong way?”

“What do you mean?” Adam asks.

“She said her encounters with men didn’t end well when it came to Benji. I’m afraid she would think I’m just trying to get closer to her through Benji, which is totally not the case. I want to get to know him because I know how important he is to her, so I obviously want to be close to him as well.”

“Harry,” Sarah smiles at him warmly. “Just tell her exactly this. From what you told us, she sounds like a smart woman. Worst case, she’ll say no to you meeting the kid. Just don’t take it to your heart too much.”

Harry nods knowing she is right. Fishing his phone out of his pocket he sends a quick text to Annalise.

Harry: Let me know when you have the time to talk so I can call you.

He doesn’t think she would get back to him too soon, but just when he is about to return his attention to the task on his hands, the screen lights up.

Lis: I’m free now.

“Sorry guys, I need to make a quick call. Be right back,” he excuses himself leaving the room, walking out to the empty hallway as his thumb glides across the screen, opening up Annalise’s contact. He draws a deep breath, keeps it in and then exhales sharply before he finally taps on the right button and starts the call. She picks up just after two rings.

“Hey!” Her joyful voice rings through the phone, instantly making Harry smile.

“Hi, I hope I’m not bothering you,” he breathes out.

“I literally told you it’s fine to call,” she chuckles. “How are you?” she asks and he just knows it’s not one of those empty questions. She is genuinely interested in the answer.

“I’m good, just working at the studio, but I wanted to ask you something.”

“Alright, shoot it.”

“I hope I’m not crossing any lines and please tell me if I do, but I would really love to have you and Benji over at my place for lunch or dinner sometime and I thought we could play board games. I have a bunch for times when my friends are over and I’m sure we could find something Benji would like.”

All his blood rushes to his head as his anxiety is reaching its maximum level. He has never felt this nervous about just a simple question, an invitation, but everything about Lis makes him go into a spiral, afraid he might lose what he has with her for now.

The silence on the other end of the call is wrecking him and he even goes to check if the call is still on, because he can’t hear a thing. Right when he is about to ask if she’s still there, she finally breaks the silence.

“When?” she asks shortly and that one little word means the world to Harry. For a split second he thinks he’s going to faint as all the blood rushes out of his face at the answer.

“Whenever it’s good for you. I can push around my plans in the next two weeks so I’m open to anything,” he answers eagerly.

“I’d rather not do it on a weekday, I don’t want Benji to go to bed late. I’m working on Saturdays and the afternoon is always our time, so that leaves us with Sunday,” she explains so precisely, Harry feels like he is listening to someone talk about the solution of a mathematical problem.

“Alright,” he nods following her trail of thoughts.

“He has a football game next weekend so this week would be the best for us.”

This week. This Sunday is only two days away, meaning that it would happen sooner than he expected, but there’s no way he would turn her down. Sunday it is.

“Works for me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. Lunch or dinner?”

“Maybe lunch? I take bedtime really seriously,” she explains and he makes a mental note, storing it along with everything else he knows so far about her and Benji.

“Perfect. Lunch is great.”

“Are you sure it’s not too soon for you? You can tell me—“

“Lis, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it, alright? I’ll text you the address and exact time after I pushed back my meeting.”

“If you have work to do, then we could—“

“None of that,” he cuts her off again, not letting her push it around until it won’t happen. That will not be the case if it’s up to him. “I said it’s all good and I meant it. Don’t worry about it.”

After a short pause, she finally gives in. “Okay,” she sighs. “Thank you for the invitation. And for thinking about Benji too.”

“Of course. I hope you’re not taking it in a negative way though. I really want to get to know him as well.”

“You haven’t given me a reason to think of you differently,” she states confidently before adding: “Don’t make me regret it.”

-

NEXT PART 

-

TAGLIST

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@stylesfics-xx​​ @dontworrysunflower​​ @mariamuses​​ @bookwormandtea​​ @swtxel​​

[fangirlings-things]

Not a nun

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x daughter!reader

Word count: 1.3K

Warnings: language, alcohol, smoking, mentions of sex

Summary: Tommy finds out his daughter had sex and confronts her about it

• anon said: Can I request a overprotective Tommy Shelby finding out his daughters had sex? Think you’d be soooo good at writing this with your style 🎉

A/N: I really hope you like this piece, love, I enjoyed writing it very much and tried to put as much as I could of Tommy's personality in it. thank you for your kind words, I hope you have a lovely day 💕

tag list: @sophieshelby ; @charmingvalkyrie ; @inglourious-imagines

gif is not mine

“Did you ask to see me?” you entered your father’s office with a frown and light steps. You had been just about to go out with your uncle John to The Garrison, when Lizzie had come to up to you and said your father wanted to speak to you in private. The look on her face made it pretty clear that he wanted to see you now, not later.

Your father was sitting at his comfortable, black chair with a cigar between the fingers of his right hand. He took a smoke while looking at you standing at the door of his office. A deep, smoke. The expression on his face, you knew that one. It meant he was giving something specific a great amount of thought. Apparently, it had to do with you. He released the smoke from his lungs and pointed the empty chair across from him on his table with the cigar. “Sit down, (Y/N)”

You frowned even deeper at that. Closing the door behind you, you walked towards the seat and took it, leaning back on it quite comfortably. Sighting, you crossed your legs and rested your arms on the chair's arms. “Well?”

Your father took another smoke, and you patiently waited as he did so. Once he got the smoke out again, his bright eyes were fixed in yours with much intensity. “You went out last night”

“Yes, like I usually do” you said without hesitation, looking on his features for whatever was the reason that had made you go there in that moment. Unlike most of the time, you couldn’t quite read his expression.

“You want me to tell you what was different about last night myself or are you going to do it?” the question was incisive, went to the point just like he usually did. Thomas Shelby was your father, after all. You were used to that behavior since you were just a kid.

The motive of that sudden reunion quickly became clear for the way his expression was emotionless and the look in his eyes seemed so profound. He knew. It wasn’t like you weren’t expecting him to find out, of course he would. He did find out things about his enemies, how could he not know about his daughter’s moves? And yet, you had seriously thought it would take a little more time than just one day for that to happen.

“I had sex last night” you said, sighting. No point in denying the truth, your family had always thought you that.

“Yes, you did” your father replied and his tone was stern, calm. His mind was working fast and hard though, you knew it was. The took another smoke. The deepest of all until that moment.

You squeezed your lips in a thin line, sighting again. “Got another one of those?” you nodded your head in the direction of his cigar. The got a pack out of the pocket of his black coat and handed it you. You got one out, gave the pack back to your father and as he placed it back where it was before, you trapped the cigar between your lips and lit it up. You took a smoke, then lowered your arm back to the chair’s arm. You passed your free hand through your hair. “Who was the one who followed me?”

“Billy Kitchen” Thomas told you, fixing his coat back in place perfectly. You gave out a small smile at that. No matter how fucked up the situation could be, your father would always be well dressed and his appearance straight. A weird habit yet, curious.

“Billy?” you said surprisingly, raising your eyebrows. “I thought he was caught up working for Alfie Solomons in Camden Town, looking over our interests”

“I pulled him out for a few days and placed another one of our man in charge. He needed some rest” your father explained, pausing for another smoke. This one was short, casual only. He licked his lips in an anxious manner before continuing. “So I put him on you, you're usually easy to track. He’s been following you for the past week”

“Bold move, I liked it” you smiled and took another smoke of your own cigar. You got the smoke out of your lungs slowly, thinking about your next words. “Did Billy tell you who I was with?”

“No, I didn’t ask. He just said you had sex” Thomas leaned his head on the chair, eyes going to the roof over your heads.

“Do you want me to tell you?” you asked, taking another smoke. This time, you got it out in a french inhale. You sighted in appreciation at that. “The name, if it was with a guy or a girl? Maybe both?”

Your father gave you an incisive look that made you chuckle and raise your hands in the air, shutting up. He then leaned his head back again and sighted. “That’s your business, (Y/N). Not mine. I’ve always been very aware of the fact that you weren’t going to be a nun” he took the cigar to his lips and smoked again, the expression on his face almost making you chuckle. “I just need you to be careful with whom you decide to lay with. You’re a Shelby, we have enemies everywhere” he straitened his position and locked his gaze on yours. “People may try to get to me through you, and I can’t have that”

“I am very aware of that” you said, moving the hand you held your cigar with as you spoke. “and that is why I asked uncle Arthur to do a full background check on the person I decided to lay with”

That surprised Thomas. He narrowed his eyes and frowned in your direction. You enjoyed that moment of victory. People rarely surprised your father in any situations. “You planned your first time for days before actually having the sex?”

You took another smoke, a wide smile on your face. “Precisely” you pointed to your father with your cigar. “Flirted with the person, saw if I really liked them and then asked Arthur a little favor. He didn’t tell you, I knew he wouldn’t. That’s why I love uncle Arthur so much”

Your father make a sound that almost sound like a chuckle before pulling his cigar out in an ashtray and getting up. “That was a smart move” he went towards the little bar he had on the corner of the room as he said so. “Whiskey?”

“I’ll have that” you said, and watched as he poured the drink into two glasses. He came over and handed you one of those. “Thank you” you took a sip as your father walked around the table and sat again on his chair. “So, as you can see I am very careful when regarding the people I fuck with. Does this give me some credit?”

“Don’t say 'people I fuck with'. Just don’t” Thomas had an expression on his came that came close to disgust. You repressed a laugh by taking another sip of your whiskey. “And yes, it does give you some credit”

“So can I ask some things here?” you raised your eyebrows at him, smiling as you also put your cigar out in the ashtray. Leaning back in your chair, you saw him nod in agreement. “Very well, first of all, I want Billy Kitchen to stop tracking my every step. A girl needs her privacy”

“I suppose that’s fair enough” your father took a long sip of his own drink, sighting heavily as he usually did when he recognized he had to do something that he did not entirely want.

“And second, I want to go to the next horse race” Thomas opened his mouth like he was about to deny that, but you cut him by quickly continuing to speak. “You can let me come with you, or I can ask uncle Arthur to take me instead. And you know he’ll be a pain in your ass for days until you finally agree to it if I do”

Your father really chuckled this time. “I have really raised you in my image, haven’t I?”

You smiled and lifted your glass in his direction. “The best image there is, father”

He softly touched your glass with his. “Cheers to that” he said and then, you both drank together.

[tatestripedsweater]

Cotton Candy

Plot: After ‘helping’ out your friend Jimmy he decides to return the favour

Jimmy Darling x Fem!Reader

Warning: Foreplay (Female and Male Recieving), Overstimulation and Orgasm Denial, Sexual Intercourse, Mentions of Masturbation, not fully proof red..

Word count: 3,265 (wow how’d that happen..?)

Requested: Yes

A/N: I have decided to keep the format text of the actual fic big to help some people read it better

It all started from the moment you woke up, your alarm hadn’t gone off therefore you missed breakfast. With your stomach rumbling and the dull ache of not having eaten you heard shouting from inside the tent, taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you walked in.

“And where have you been?!” You didn’t like to say that she scared you, but when Elsa wasn’t in the best of moods it was like looking Satan in the eyes, before you could even explain you got cut off. “Actually I don’t care, just get to work Y/N we have a sold-out show tonight”

Debating on whether to backchat her you decided on not too, she was the one that let you live here and paid you, you weren’t an act in the show you served more as a helper: Cleaning the tent ready for the show, doing the performers makeup, cleaning up after the show and so on. You had nowhere else to go after getting kicked out for having pre-marital sex, so the Freak Show was your only option, thankfully Elsa saw the desperation in your eyes and agreed as long as you helped around here. You were eternally grateful to her.

Nodding and walking off to do your daily duties of fixing up the torn clothes for the show tonight, you didn’t even hear the hear conversation within the tent that you just left.

“Try cutting her some slack Elsa” As soon as that left Jimmy’s lips the instant regret on his face was evident due to the expression that lay upon Elsa’s.

“A pretty little face and a smile makes you melt hmm?” Going wide-eyed Jimmy tried to deny what she was saying, even though she spoke the truth, he had fallen for you hard but his cheeks went red since he thought he had been discreet about it.

“I-I.. no!” A few sniggers left Paul’s lips once he saw how flustered his friend had got, it’s not the only thing that Jimmy thought about you though, yeah you had a pretty face and a beautiful smile.. but something about you just made him want to tear that dress off your body and bend you over the nearest surface. He often thought about you while he touched himself: what your skin felt like up against his, imagining his name falling from your lips.. how tight you’d feel around him. It was a never-ending cycle.

Without another word Jimmy scurried out of the tent like a mouse running away from a cat, surely he had time to jerk off. He didn’t need to practice for the show for another couple of hours, and by then he would’ve been done and cleaned up. They would be none the wiser...

“Oh, Jimmy just the man I was looking for!” Gulping when he heard your sweet voice he put on a smile as he turned to look at you, it wasn’t that he was not happy to see you but the fact that he was as hard as a rock, and it was pretty evident in his trousers.

“Hey, doll” Jimmy’s voice came across somewhat shaken and by the worried expression on your face he knew you heard it. “Listen I don’t feel that well..”

“Oh.. okay I just wanted to give you these” Holding his shirts for what he wore for the show you had sewn up the arm, it had torn in a fight he had with a rude customer which resulted in him having a bleeding nose the previous night.

“Oh thanks Y/N” Jimmy went to grab them but with the shocked expression on your face, he could tell you knew, oh my god he wanted the floor to swallow him up whole right now. Looking down he didn’t realise how evident his cock was against his trousers, it was like the world was against him at this point. “I-I can explain..”

“You don’t need too... it’s natural” You weren’t even that bothered, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn him on seeing him in such a state such as this. His cheeks all flushed with embarrassment while his cock strained against his trousers was enough to make any girl drop to their knees in front of him, you almost wanted too just to see his reaction. “I can help you out... if you want?”

Did he just hear correctly? Jimmy had to do a double-take because he thought his own ears were deceiving him, the girl he had fantasised about for the past three months wanted to help him get off..? He had to hide his excitement but the giggle that escaped her lips showed that he wasn’t doing a good job of hiding it at all.

“Y-you Uhm. You sure?” He wanted to slap himself so hard across the face right now for even stuttering, it wasn’t like him to be nervous around a girl but you weren’t just any girl to him. You were the one he wanted to marry, have children and grow old with.. it sounded cheesy but that’s all he ever wanted with you.

“Get in that camper van Mr” Playfully pushing him back he stumbled inside, closing the door behind you your face looked completely innocent as you bit your bottom lip, but your eyes said another story. Your eyes look lustful.

Stepping closer to Jimmy until his back was against the wall your hand grazed the bulge of his crotch, you had barely touched him but a moan left his throat. With his head up against the wall with his eyes closed as you touched him, Jimmy didn’t even notice you were on your knees until he felt you undo the zipper. Every fibre within him wanted to pull you up and fuck you nice and hard up against the table, have you scream his name so the whole camp hears who owns you...

“I want to taste you..” It was like you had red his mind because he was about to pull you up to your feet, but as soon as you said that he had to grab into the counter beside him, to stop himself from toppling over in shock.

Pulling his trousers down along with his briefs you were met with his cock, your cheeks went bright red again as you wasn’t even expecting him to be this big, he noticed the nervous look in your eyes and used his hand to lift your chin to look up at him, it was a sight Jimmy could get used too. You looked so submissive below him...

“You don’t have to doll..” But you wanted too, by god you have been waiting for this moment and you weren’t going to let anyone stop you from doing this, from pleasuring the man you had fantasises about.. the man you pretended was fucking you and not some stupid greaser who didn’t even know where your clit was.

“I want too Jimmy” Before he could even say anything next your lips kissed the tip of his cock, not fully taking his cock in your mouth yet but it was enough to tease him, with the whining escaping his lips.

“Please doll.. fuck I’ll eat you out after..” A blush crept to your cheeks at the thought of his mouth on your cunt, part of you just wanted to lay down on the bed and let him get on with it. But right now this was about Jimmy, not you.

As soon as you wrapped your reddened lips around him and a hand around the part of him that you couldn’t fit in your mouth there was an instant reaction from the man above you, the grip Jimmy had on your hair was hard and tight which in fact made you moan against him. As soon as you moaned against his cock a grunt was heard from Jimmy, the vibration from your moan against his cock was enough to make him cum then and there, but he held back, but he didn’t know for how long.

“Oh baby doll.. fuck!” You never heard such a noise come from Jimmy but once that growl left his lips it made your own arousal rise, taking your hair tightly in his hands he pushed your head down further until his cock was up against your throat and your nose pressed against his tummy. A gag left your lips as tears fell down your cheeks, making your mascara run, to which turned Jimmy on even more. You didn’t want him to stop the assault on your mouth and throat, saliva dripping down his cock and onto his balls was a sensation that Jimmy could get used too. “That’s it take my fucking cock!”

Leaning a hand down you decided on pleasuring yourself as he fucked your mouth, the only noise in the room was the sloppiness of you sucking his cock, it was the most obscene noise you’ve ever heard. Moaning against him once again when your fingers grazed against your cunt you soon felt how wet you are, rubbing your clit in circular motions you felt his cock twitch in your mouth, you wanted to taste him so badly, it was almost like a drug to you.

Moving your spare hand up you gently but firmly massaged his balls, and this seemed to have a big effect on Jimmy considering he tightened the grip on your hair to where it almost hurt, but you didn’t mind. You liked the pain.

“K-Keep doing that!” The way his voice stuttered made your cunt even more wet, the effect you had on him was enough to make a nun drop to her knees. Jimmy’s thrusts into your mouth got faster which cause you to gag against his cock, the tightening grip of your throat and the sight of you touching yourself was enough for him. With his hips jerking and a moan of your name falling from his throat you felt his cum fill your mouth, Jimmy held you still for a moment before letting you pull away. Panting he smirked as he looked down at the sight before him, his cum running down your chin, but the sight of you swallowing his own seed was enough to make him moan again before chuckling. “You dirty bitch”

Blushing brightly at his chosen words you couldn’t help but giggle like a school girl, which in essence made Jimmy’s eyes darken with lust. Pulling you up from your knees his lips met yours in a heated frenzy, not caring that he could taste his own cum on your mouth, that turned him on even more.

“Get on the bed baby girl, I want to taste that sweet cunt of yours” Whimpering against his lips as soon as you spoke those words could’ve made your legs turn to jelly, doing as you were told you moved into his room and laid upon it. Jimmy’s cock still hard you could tell he’d be fucking you once he was done between your legs, moving your dress up his lips attached to your soft thighs, kissing and nibbling his way up until he got to where you needed him most.

With your underwear and dress now ripped off you and on the floor; he grew impatient with moving your dress again, he looked at you with a wide smirk. What was going on in that head of yours?

“First I’m going to stretch your cunt with my fingers then I’m going to eat your pussy like it’s the last meal I’ll ever have” Jimmy’s voice deepened ever so slightly and it was enough to cause your cunt to get even more wet, if that was even possible at this point in time. Running his fused fingers over your cunt he noticed the reaction he got from you almost instantly, the moan was that off a prostitutes that was getting fucked over and over again by different men. “I’ve barely touched you, and look at how desperate you are for me”.

Mewling like a kitten you looked up at him submissively, you looked so small below him, he couldn’t wait to fill you up and have you whimpering as he pounded into you. “What’s the biggest cock you’ve taken doll?” The question came out of nowhere but it still made you go all coy and flushed in the cheeks, getting impatient and waiting for your answer he smacked your cunt, the feeling making you gasp and jolt in surprise.

“S-six inches..” And that was the greaser you slept with not so long ago, he was all cocky about how he’d have you screaming and squirting.. the most he did was let you moan a little but didn’t actually make you cum, which in result you had to boost his ego by faking an orgasm.

“Oh poor thing..” Jimmy playfully teased you, he could feel how wet you were against his fingers already, your cunt making a pool on his sheets the longer he rubbed up and down it. “Let’s fill up that empty cunt sweetheart”

Laying on his belly between your legs he pulled you closer to his mouth, you could feel his hot breath tickling your cunt as he blew on your clit. The feeling made your thighs involuntary squeeze his head with your thighs, but Jimmy didn’t even react to such an action, instead his lips wrapped them self around your clit as if it was the last thing he was going to taste.

“O-Oh Jimmy..” With him moaning at the taste of your cunt and the sensation of his mouth had you practically purring above him, your hands tangled themselves in his curls, running your nails through Jimmy’s scalp which left goosebumps on his skin.

His face was covered with your wetness and Jimmy didn’t want to stop, he could lay here between your legs for the rest of his life. His eyes looked up at you as he suckled onto your clit, slowly and carefully he thrusted his fused fingers inside you which in essence forced a moan from your throat, your hands tugging at his hair which led to a growl against your sensitive clit.

“Does that feel good doll? Having your cunt filled up with my fingers?” Jimmy murmured against you, waiting for your answer he raised a brow when all he got was a soft whimper. “I asked you a question” Curling his fingers inside you he could tell he had hit the spot just by your body jolting.

“Y-yes it feels good!” Satisfied with your answer he went back to sucking your clit, the only noises in the room were the wetness of him being between your legs and the moans escaping your lips. Sweat started to form on your skin, not only from the hot weather but having an attractive man between your legs, the thrust off his fingers along with his lips around your clit was enough to have your legs shaking within minutes.

Jimmy could tell you were close to your orgasm, he wanted to see you come undone but he wasn’t going to give in that easy, he wanted to hear you beg. So just as he got you right on the edge he pulled away from you completely, chuckling darkly at the loud whine and the pout that placed itself on your lips he looked at you.

“You really thought I was going to let you cum hmm? Good girls beg!” Seeing this side of Jimmy was enough to have you squeeze your legs together in arousal, but at this point in time you wanted to cum.

“Please.. please let me cum..” You sounded so pathetic, and honestly you were blushing like a whore in church. Shaking his head Jimmy only smirked at your attempt at begging you tried again. “Please.. Sir..”

Before you could even say anything else Jimmy was on top of you in seconds, the look in his eyes was something you haven’t seen before, it was like a wild animal. Gripping onto his cock he ran it over your slit as he kissed you hungrily, you could tell this man took pleasure in teasing you to no end. You could taste your own cunt on your lips, with his cum still in yours it was a mixed combination that you could get used too.

“You ready sweetheart?” Despite his dominant behaviour there was still the caring side that showed itself to you, but that caring side soon turned back to dominance when you nodded, his cock suddenly filling up your cunt to no end.

With your fingers splayed across his back and your nails digging into your skin a growl left him at how tight you felt around him, gripping your hips tightly his thrusts got faster, the bed frame banging against the wall was surely enough going to let in on the others what you two were doing in his camper van.

“Y-You feel so good Jimmy..” Looking up into his eyes, his curls starting to stick to his forehead from the sweat beading from your skin, with each thrust felt like he was filling you up more and more, not wanting it to end you looked up at him desperately.

Jimmy still couldn’t believe he had you under him, his cock being the cause of your whimpers and moans. Leaning a hand down his thumb pressed against your clit, your nails dragging down his back in reaction he knew he’d have marks there after this was done, but honestly he didn’t care, he wanted everyone to know you were his and he was yours.

“Yeah, that feel good beautiful?” Only being able too nod in response due to the pleasure you were in a smirk plastered itself on Jimmy’s face, he could feel your cunt tightening around his cock just like it tightened around his fingers from earlier. But this time he wasn’t going to deny you your orgasm, you wanted to cum? He was going to force them out of you until you begged him to stop.

“J-Jimmy!” Squealing and clinging onto the man for dear life he felt you squeeze against his cock like a vice, snarling and working you through your own orgasm he kept thrusting at an animalistic pace. You were sure the bed frames were going to break at this rate, explaining that to Elsa would be the most embarrassing thing you would’ve endured. “Jimmy I can’t! Not again”

“Don’t be so selfish, I need to come too!” You half expected him to pull out and cum all over your stomach, painting you with it almost but no. His assault on your cunt only got harder and sloppier as he got close to his release, groaning and moaning you felt yourself get close to cumming as well. You had always been sensitive so when he carried on thrusting even after you came your legs were trembling.

“Your going to take my cum like a good girl!” Leaning down he growled that in your ear as he sucked just under it, marking his territory with a purple love bite. Just the very thought of him filling you up had you screaming below him as you came hard against him once again, his own release filling your cunt he moaned out your name like a prayer. Working you through both of your releases his thrusts came to a halt, his cock softening inside you with the both of you panting you looked at one another.

“Has anyone ever told you your pussy tastes just like Cotton Candy?”

[simpingforthehunt]

Weak Spot

Pairing: Jonah x Reader

Premise: The Hunt finds out about Jonah dating Meyer's adopted daughter.

Masterlist

Requested by: anon

Word count: 1,149

A/N: The scenario that fit best in my mind was Amy's wedding, so Roxy isn't in it but otherwise it's the rest of the Hunt. I surprised myself by finishing this before 1AM, though, lmao. Hope you enjoy!

Jonah had only been a member of The Hunt for a week until he started dating Meyer's adopted daughter. For the sake of the crew, the teens decided to keep it secret from everyone. Y/N, especially, wasn't sure how her father would react and didn't want to hear Harriet yell at them for making a stupid decision. As well, Jonah wanted to get on everyone's good side before their relationship became public.

Getting everyone to like him proved harder than expected, the only ones Jonah felt he could really trust were Mindy and Murray. The married couple were the first to find out about the two, by walking in on them making out, and kept it a secret at their request. Mindy was overjoyed that they were together, but it took time for Murray to warm up to it. More than anything, he wanted the best for both the teens and was unsure that being together in such a dangerous profession was a good idea.

A week before Amy Markowitz's wedding, Y/N and Jonah were over at Mindy and Murray's home for tea. They wanted to talk to the two of them, after noticing the Hunt slowly catching on to their secret.

"They’ll find out soon," Murray said. "It's best if it comes from the two of you."

"We're waiting for the right time," Y/N shrugged. "Don’t want to cause a scene."

"What about Amy's wedding?" Mindy suggested, earning a confused look from everyone. "The two of you can go as a couple. Our friends won't cause a scene in front of all of Amy's guests."

It took a bit of convincing, but eventually, Mindy got them to agree. The hours leading up to the wedding were nerve-wracking. The morning of, Jonah found out he had to recite the Birkat Kohanim in place of his Grandmother. After picking up his suit, he spent the day at the Offerman's getting ready and practicing the blessing. "How are you doing?" 

"I can't get the words down," Jonah threw the prayer sheet down in frustration. "You'd think the last-minute news would cause me to panic and cram it, but nothing is working."

"Something I find always helps me is putting the words to a tune," Y/N told him. "Easier to remember the words and pronunciations."

"Thanks, Y/N," he gave her a small smile. "But trust me when I say no one wants to hear me sing."

"You'll be fine," she assured him. "We have to get going."

"Fuck, already?" Jonah stood up and tied the tie around his neck in a rush. Just as he was about to leave the room, Y/N stopped him and took the tie in her hands.

"It's crooked," she said, adjusting it. Instinctively, Jonah wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling Y/N closer. "Jonah, we're going to be late."

"We'll be fine," he shrugged, smiling cheekily. Y/N rolled her eyes at him, but couldn't hide her smile. Jonah gave her a quick kiss before pulling apart.

"Ready?"

"I don't think I ever will be." He admitted and followed her to the car. 

The wedding was beautiful, and everything went smoothly. After Jonah butchered the Birkat Kohanim and then managed to save it, the Emcee announced it to be time for dinner. Y/N had sat down at a table with Jonah to eat when Meyer had joined them. "Is there something the two of you would like to tell me?" 

"Uh…" Jonah froze up and looked to his girlfriend for help.

"Yeah, actually," Y/N took a deep breath. It was now or never, and she just wanted to get it done and over with. "Jonah and I are dating, and have been for a couple weeks now." 

Meyer sat there for a minute, silent. His eyes flit between the two of them, increasing their nerves. It felt like a long ten minutes had passed before Meyer said anything. "I'm very happy for both of you. But Jonah… if you hurt her I will not forgive you, my boy."

"I understand," Jonah responded, the nerves somehow increasing. The boy was about to say something else when the band began to play Hava Nagila, and the horah started. They were pulled away from the table to join the dance, kicking off the party.

This was the first time Jonah ever felt connected to the Jewish community and was having a great time with Y/N when Joe and Lonny arrived at the wedding. The men gave updates on the information they found and were about to go back to the party when Harriet waltzed in. In anger, Joe attacked the Nun and everyone moved into a different room. When Harriet yelled at Joe to open the trunk of her car, everyone went outside and found a man tied up looking up at the crew.

Instinctively, Jonah grabbed Y/N's hand and interlocked their fingers. Part of him was still unable to stomach the torture and kidnapping that the Hunt often did. The sight, while not as gruesome as Dieter Zweigelt the day before, still managed to make him feel sick. "Who is that? Is that the Wolf?"

"Not my Wolf," Meyer shook his head.

"Wait a minute," Harriet said, pointing at their interlocked hands. "When the bloody fuck did this happen?"

"A couple weeks ago," Jonah answered, squeezing Y/N's hand.

"Well, break-up," she demanded. "Didn't I just tell you relationships are a weak spot? This is a liability and could put our whole operation in jeopardy."

"Come on, Harriet," Lonny interjected. "They're just kids. Besides, it would be good to let Jonah get a wank job once in a while."

"Lonny!" Everyone yelled at him, causing the actor to put his hands up in surrender.

"I said what I said."

"Let's just go back to the party and enjoy the rest of the night," Meyer suggested. Looking at Joe, he added, "take some time to cool off, too, hm?"

Y/N and Jonah made their way back to the party with Joe and Lonny, leaving Meyer and Harriet to talk alone. "Harriet's right, you know."

"It isn’t anyone's decision to make, but ours," Y/N told Joe, stubbornly. "Look, we aren't breaking up so all of you better get used to it now that it's out in the open."

Y/N pulled Jonah away from the men and brought them back to their table. "That went better than expected."

"I guess you're right." Y/N sighed, putting her head in her hands. "Still stressful."

"Hey, Y/N," Jonah spoke gently. "I love you, and nothing's going to change that."

"I love you, too." she gave him a small smile. "They'll warm up to it, eventually."

Jonah laughed at that and leaned over to kiss her. The Hunt would get used to them dating, no matter how long it takes.

[ryik-the-writer]

CHAPTER 29: Instincts

A03

         Chapter 1: Pan meets a Wendy

·         Chapter 2: Scars (Felix’s Story)

·         Chapter 3: Day One

·         Chapter 4: Revenge and Fireflies

·         Chapter 5: Brighter than Stars

·         Chapter 6: filler: The Tigress

·         Chapter 7: Operation Spotless!

·         Chapter 8: Operation Spotless: Reporters Down

·         Chapter 9: A Dance with the Devil

·         Chapter 10: filler: Felix and the Pancake

·         Chapter 11: The Girl with Blue Eyes pt. 1

·         Chapter 12: The Girl with Blue Eyes pt. 2

·         Chapter 13: The Girl With Blue Eyes: Underground

·         Chapter 14. Recovery

·         Chapter 14.2 Recovery some more

·         Chapter 15: Trapped

       Chapter 16: Filth

       Chapter 17: Fairydust pt. 1

       Chapter 18: Fairydust pt. 2

       Chapter 19: The Mystery of the Dead Nun pt. 3

       Chapter 20: The Mystery of the Dead Nun pt. 2

       Chapter 21: The Mystery of the Dead Nun pt. 3

       Chapter 22: Reflections pt. 1

       Chapter 23: Reflections pt. 2

       Chapter 24: Closing

       Chapter 25: Felix is helping Pan

       Chapter 26: Temporary Fix

       Chapter 27: The Search Begins

        Chapter 28: The Missing Pan

So this is what death feels like? It’s not terrible, just incredibly long.

Dehydration had long set in, so much so that even Pan’s eyes were dry.

Jones was refusing to give him food and water until he “revealed what he knew.”

Pan would, of course, tell him to fuck himself. Nevermind that he had no idea what the fuck he was talking about.

Maybe it was journalistic instincts or his own, but Pan wanted to know what Jones was going on about, why he thought kidnapping him would give him what he wanted.

He had been waiting for the man to finally spill, but Jones seemed to be as clever as he was.

Pan would die a slow painful death with an unknown secret. He could only hope it tore Jones to pieces.

But it was harder for him to focus on disemboweling Jones when his own demise were front and center.

It was odd how unafraid he was. Annoyed and pained, yes, but not necessarily scared.

He remembered wanting to die on plenty of occasions: when he was a snot-nosed little punk in Scotland and his father used to wail on him, when he found out Belle was in love with his fucking brother of all people. When he’d be on a high after writing an amazing story that ruined someone’s life. Even in between the better moments of his life, when he was investigating with Felix or having drinks with Tink and Lily, when he just couldn’t find peace.

When he was with Wendy and he felt so grounded he couldn’t take it.

Shit. He swore he wouldn’t think about her. Wouldn’t think about any of the people he gave a shit about.

Yeah, now that he was on death’s door, he could finally admit to himself that he kind of gave a shit about something.

His pride and his ambition had stood in the way for so long, he had plenty of time to realize when those walls had come down.

Wendy fucking Darling.

She’d gotten under his skin, into his veins. He’d become desperate for her presence, for her validation.

For her smile.

“She’s really beautiful you know,” Jones had gloated to him last night as he drunk from that damned flask of his. “Really something. I might just get a taste of her myself.”

A weak snarl was all Pan was able to muster, but his brain was burning with all the things he was going to do to him the second he had these fucking cuffs off.

Maybe that’s part of the reason he was still hanging on. He wanted Jones’s blood to soak his lips, give him the hydration he had denied him for days now.

Or maybe he truly had gone soft and he wanted to see her and everyone else again.

All the people who hated him and cared for him…he was going to be lost to them now.

It was true then: Peter Pan didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to be forgotten about.

And he wanted to see her again.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

 “What are we doing?” Wendy laughed as Killian drug her up the boat.

Jones hid his smile well. “You shall soon see, Miss Darling.”

Wendy shrugged and followed, charmed that he still referred her to something so gentle. He’d been courting her for three days now, and each time they were together she found herself a bit more star struck.

Killian was so far advanced in the world than she. He had seen things, been places she’d only seen on maps, lived as a person she was far from being.

But Wendy ate up his stories, usually told over brunch or a nice picnic.

Tonight however would be the first time they’d have dinner, and have it on his vast ship she’d been admiring from the dock for some time now.

She was grateful for his company just as much as she was for the distraction from her current dilemmas.

Pan still had yet to return or make his location known. They were both set to return to the Mirror in a few days with their suspension ending, and she only hoped he thought to come back by then.

She could honestly care less at this point, she had decided, squashing the guilt she felt. Pan had made his decision, had chosen to push her so far away he could never find her again. She wouldn’t be the one to try to make amends if he returned.

The “if” part was what was keeping her from falling asleep at night. If he’d been more ceremonial in his departure, she might be more relaxed. But he just vanished. No note, no hints. Not even a plan for his cat. He pretty much left the poor thing to starve.

Wendy still checked in on the creature, but had slowly made the transition to her own apartment. Sometimes at night, when she was getting out of the tub or combing her hair, she’d look down her window at his building and spare the thought that he was coming back soon.

But it was just a flutter of a thought, and she would return to the present. Story ideas for when she returned to work, making peace with Tink, and Jones.

Wendy would be the first to admit she was naïve when it came to dating. Her first and only beau, Edward, had been more boring than a sack of flour and their breakup had been a celebration for her.

What she had with Pan was more of a fight to the death speckled with quick moments of peace. It was stimulating but painful all at once.

Whatever she was building with Jones excited her. It wasn’t the back and forth screaming match she had with Pan. It was tamer, and felt unabashedly like romance.

“You know, the last time my view was obstructed I solved a nearly decade’s old mystery in this town,” Wendy deadpanned as she felt a railing under her hand. They were going up something. And they were on the docks judging by the scent of salt in the air.

Killian’s chuckle rumbled through her back. “I’ve heard a great many about your adventures in town. You’ll have to tell me all about them.”

Wendy felt around until she found his hand, and he paused.

“I haven’t finished learning about you,” Wendy pointed out, her heart speeding up.

She felt Killian’s warm breath on the edge of her ear. “I have to keep some of my secrets, love.”

Wendy swallowed hard. Damn. Now it was more than the darkness that made her heart swell.

Thankfully though, that part soon passed and Killian removed the blindfold.

Her eyes adjusted quickly to the setting sun, and then the sight before her made her gasp.

 A well-set table decorated the deck of Killian’s ship, complete with a bucket of ice and what looked like champagne.

She could smell garlic in the air, not doubt encased in whatever was under the metal dishes on the table.

Killian had passed her and began lighting the elongated candles on the table.

“What is all this?” Wendy laughed.

“An anniversary dinner of sorts,” Jones winked.

“We’ve barely been acquainted a full week,” Wendy pointed out, following him when he motioned for her to sit in one of the chairs that he had pulled out.

“Then we have something to celebrate,”

Wendy watched him, amused as he popped open the champagne and poured them each a glass. He raised his, tipping it towards her.

“To five days of a beautiful relationship,”

Wendy scoffed. She could toast to that, and she did, tapping her glass to his.

She took a slow sip of the bubbly drink, stilling her flinch at the strong alcohol. She’d never had anything stronger than a glass of wine at her college graduation and she knew her tolerance would be very low.

He drained his glass quickly but made no attempt to refill his or hers.

“And now,” he bowed, lifting the lid off their plates.

Wendy witnessed a well-crafted dish of crispy fish surrounded by colorful vegetables in a sort of white broth.

She glanced up at Killian and noticed the slight hesitation in his eyes.

Oh my gods, she thought, he’s nervous about his food!

Wendy picked up her fork, getting a bite of everything on the utensil. The vegetables were a bit salty for her preference, but the fish melted on her tongue.

She chuckled. Of course someone who lived on a ship would know how to cook a good fish.

She smiled as to ease Killian’s mind.

“Delicious.”

He glowed at the compliment and comfortably began to eat his own dish.

Wendy continued to examine him, wishing more than anything that she could figure out his game. Jones didn’t make her uncomfortable, not really, but he did make her question his motive and his interest in her.

“You’re quite distracted for someone eating some of the highest quality crawfish on this side of Maine,” Jones joked when he noticed her inquisitive expression.

He’d been taking small circles around her, disguising his intentions. Tonight was the final test, one last go before he decided—not if—but how he would eliminate her.

He was starting to doubt that she knew anything at all.

“I was just thinking about you,” Wendy said boldly.

Jones stopped chewing, the slightest tension curling his fingers.

“Aye?” he said, keeping his demeanor.

“I was thinking of me as well,” she admitted. “How I know so little of you yet came onto your ship—lovely craftsmenship, by the way.”

“Thank you,” he nodded, easing a bit. Wendy was young, and hopefully easily distractible.

“I feel like I should be afraid of you,” she continued, not feeling the least bit foolish about the reveal of such a personal thought. She’d fought off maniacs and barely escaped with her life; she wasn’t afraid to admit if she was scared or not.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t know you, and for all I know you poisoned the very food I just ate, or you plan on knocking me cold and dumping me into the harbor.”

One out of two, not bad, he thought.

Still, he to keep the game going, had to pull her out of that state of uneasiness if he wanted to win.

“Allow me to put you more at ease,” he offered. He stood and made his way across the deck where he had set up an old vinyl player.

Wendy gasped when he turned on a gentle tune, looking up at him with stars in her eyes when he came back to her and held out his hand.

“Care for a dance, Miss Darling?”

Wendy’s stomach twisted, the memory of Pan twirling her around the club downtown causing a periscope of emotions to crash over her.

She took Jones’s hand and squeezed it, praying the memory would leave her.

As Jones guided her down the deck and positioned his hands like a true gentlemen, she decided she could leave it indeed.

“Now,” he said as they moved. “Allow me to ease your mind. Ask me a question, anything you like, but I want to ask you one in return.”

“I’m a journalist, Mr. Jones, I’m fairly good at asking questions.”

 “Then make them count,” he grinned.

She accepted his challenge, licking her lips as she laid out in her mind exactly what she wanted to know.

“Do you live on this ship?”

“Oh yes,” he said. “Now it’s my turn.”

“Hey now,” she chastised.

Jones chuckled. She really was a delight.

“It was an antique I restored for one of my clients,” he said. She didn’t need to know that said client had been disemboweled by him on the very deck they were dancing on.

“He practically gave it to me when I finished.”

“You’re a carpenter then. A traveler as well?”

“One question at a time, Miss Darling,”

“Not a question. More like an observation.” she corrected.

He smiled. Witty as well.

“Tell me, how did such a well-established lady like yourself end up in Maine of all places?”

Wendy scoffed, the life she had before Storybrooke seeming so long ago.

“An internship. It was really an excuse to leave home and see a bit of the world, but I decided to try to make it a career. It’s been…”

Jones’s smile faded when Wendy’s tenseness caused them to stop. As if sensing her distress, the vinyl player abruptly stopped its song.

“Are you alright,” Jones inquired.

Wendy gulped, memories of that devil woman Cruella and that sick bastard Jekyll crawling through her brain.

“It hasn’t been easy being here,” she said.

It hasn’t been easy being with Pan, she wanted to say.

“That lad, the one who abandoned you” Jones pushed. “Does he have anything to do with that?”

Of course, Jones knew the answer to that, having had said lad in his company for several days now.

“More than you could ever know.”

Jones tilted his head. It was really tragic, watching such a vibrant creature fade over such a wretched little creature.

He cupped her cheek and turned her to him, rubbing his thumb over her soft skin.

“Let him go, love,” he said. “He’s not worth it.”

Wendy Darling was innocent, both in spirit and in the crimes he had stacked against her. It didn’t stop what he had to do, but he would prefer that her last memories were pleasant.

But Wendy was plagued by the pandemic that was Pan. She told him in her message to him that she had to let him go, there was no room anymore to wait on him.

Yet he was still in her mind. She wanted to let him go, needed to.

She looked into Jones’s smiling eyes, this enigma of a man who had wondered into her life. Maybe it was fate’s way of telling her to move on, or perhaps just a coincidence.

Either way, she needed his help.

She cupped the hand on her face, keeping him where he was.

He didn’t move, perhaps sensing what she wanted to do, needed to do.

She leaned in, leaning up just enough so that their lips touched.

Kissing Killian was like tasting the rarest of liquor: it was addictive, intoxicating, dangerous. Wendy weaved her fingers into his hair, her other hand unsure quite where to venture next.

But Jones did. He led it to his chest, one of his hands cupping her waist with purpose, the other traveling to tangle in her locks.

He felt Wendy tensed under his touch and he pulled back.

“Please, not my hair,” she said, ashamed.

He nodded, uncertain and shocked when his heart lurched at her pained expressin. “Do you want to stop?:

Wendy wasn’t sure what she wanted to do. Was she really about to go through with this? Have relations with someone she’d only known a few days?

She thought about all the morals that had been lodged into her mind since girlhood. They seemed so faint now, a side effect, she thought, of being in the presence of someone as moralless like Pan.

Truth was she wanted to do it, wanted to fill that emptiness Pan had created in her.

“Where…is there…”

He nodded, knowing her mind and lead her to his sleeping quaters.

He sat her down on his bed, hands twitching by his side while the rest of him remained still.

This had to be her choice. He couldn’t continue unless she made the first move.

They stared at each for a moment, their heavy breathing subsiding as Wendy made up her mind.

She reached a hand out, inviting him.

A small smile curled on his lips. He took it and got down on one knew, hands guiding up her smooth knees.

Wendy leaned forward and began to remove his shirt as he lifted his arms up to let her.

The weight of her inexperience began to thrive as she gazed upon his lean, mature form. He had little knicks and scars on his arms and chest, tales of a life he . Just like her.

She felt so small compared to him, so young. She considered calling this whole thing off—she knew he’d respect it.

“Nervous, love?” he inquired.

He intertwined his fingers in the hand that had undressed him.

“Let me lead, Wendy,”

She allowed it. Allowed his hands and lips to seek her out.

He was gentle. He wanted to be.

Wendy wasn’t like the other women he’d bedded in the past. She had this air of sophistication he hadn’t known before, cutting deeply into the innocence she wore like a torn coat.

But her passion, bless her. She allowed the instinct to take over, to guide her hands and lips to places he wants them to be.

He’s struggling to contain himself, his own instinct telling him to conquer, but Wendy doesn’t deserve that.

It was part of the game, after all. Seduce the pretty girl woman, kill her and be done with it. One last round of euphoria before he moved on to the next target.

His kisses are heated, biting, but patient – she allows him to remove her clothes, carefully.

He moans when her soft, round lips mouth down his neck, and he wraps his arms around her waist, caressing her bareness possessively, greedily. He soon draws her mouth to his own once more.

“Wendy,” he breathes, almost trembling. Her name alone is so delicate.

She looks at him and he is so proud of the fire in her eyes.

“I…” she begins, stopping and laughing nervously.

He couldn’t stop his own from breaking free. He picks her up just enough to spread her on his sheets, ready for the next bit.

“Do you trust me?” he asks. It’s a line he’s used on his targets before as he’s reeled them in. The answer’s always the same. Of course they do, why wouldn’t they?

But something in Wendy’s expression changes. There’s no hesitation in her eyes, but an unwavering defiance that changes everything.

“No, Killian,” she said with a sad smile. “I don’t trust you at all.”

Indeed, those few words change everything.

When she leans up to kiss him, he doesn’t return the gesture right away.

Wendy Darling is indeed not like the other women he’s dealt with. She’s young, charismatic, and worst of all, far from a fool.

Her hand strokes his jaw, turning him back to her.

“But I still want you,” she says, her very being glowing. “Is that alright?”

The man between her legs accepts her in earnest, those predatory eyes fluttered shut as he pressed into her hand.

  Oh Wendy, run, he wants to say.

  “That it is, love,” he says instead, sealing her fate.

  Hours later Jones examined her in the fading moon light. The game had stopped. Maybe it had been over the second he asked Wendy her name.

She was breathing so tenderly, so calm despite the fact that she had just slept with someone who had been killing people longer than she’d been alive.

Unperturbed that she and her little friend below were teetering on death’s door.

He rose and dressed quietly, slipping the sheet fully around her body, but he didn’t kiss her temple despite how he desperately wanted to.

He heads below, pausing to grab a bottle of water, an act that surprises even him.

He makes his way below deck slowly, the form of his captive becoming clearer the closer he gets. Within a moment he make out the lad’s deadly glare.

“You fucker,” he wheezes.

Jones smirks. “Oh, so you heard?”

Pan lurched forward, thwarted by his shackles but the malice in his eyes didn’t die.

“I’ll fucking kill you for this!”

Jones chuckled, pulling a barrel forward as he reveled in one-upping the pious lad.

His smirk faded though as he thought of Wendy.

He was due to report back to his contact tomorrow afternoon. He was expected to report two deaths and he hadn’t managed to kill off the one before him.

Now as he stared at the glaring youth and his thoughts stayed on the blonde goddess above his head, for the first in his like Killian Jones was having second thoughts…about everything.

“You don’t know anything, do you?” Jones tested. Of course Pan didn’t respond.

Jones sighed. He couldn’t just let him go. He had been noticed by now. Jones heard whispers in the street of his disappearance. He needed to be dealt with now.

Jones uncapped the bottle he brought with him. Pan struggled to keep his eyes from following the sloshing of the water.

His capture held it out to his cracked lips. “Take it.”

Pan turned his head. No matter how much he needed it, he wouldn’t give in.

Jones growled and grabbed Pan by his hair, forcing his head down. He squeezed the bottle and water spewed all over Pan’s face and hair, the lad struggling fruitlessly in his grip as he cough and wheezed.

Jones threw him back, glaring at him as he cursed and shook the water off.

“What the fuck do you want!” Pan yelled.

Jones stood and backhanded him. “Shut up. You’ll wake her.”

Blood oozed from Pan’s right nostril, moistening his lips.

“I’m going to break your fucking neck!”

“I’m afraid you won’t get the chance,” Jones sighed as he flicked stray water droplets off his hands. “You see, boy, I have to end you soon.”

Pan’s eyes narrowed.

“Don’t fret, I’ll be quick, simple. I’ll grant you that.”

“It’s lasted for days,” Pan reminded him with a snarl.

Jones shrugged. “As for our lovely Miss Darling …”

Pan paused, dreading the words that would come from his mouth next.

“Tell me,” Jones said, his tone sincere. “Do you think she’d dig further if I let her alone? Do you think she’d try to find your murderer once your bloated corpse washes up on shore?”

Pan gritted his teeth. Hearing her passion had disturbed him. He had yet to picture her in such a way, let alone with his damn kidnapper.

Now she was above him more close to death than he was, and he couldn’t save her.

And then there was the question of would she try to avenge him.

He hoped not. He truly did.

Jones tilted his head as Pan’s mind raced. He almost felt sorry for the boy, having such a lovely creature so close to his closed-off heart.

He stood, his decision made.

“Good night, boy,” he sighed, closing the door on his returning remarks.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Wendy’s eyes opened, the earliest rays of a new day awakening her.

She hadn’t meant to spend the night here, didn’t expect she’d be welcome.

Yet her bed partner was sleeping comfortably beside her, one his arms draped loosely on her waist, and she did indeed feel welcomed.

Maybe she could stay here a bit longer and enjoy the smell of sea air and warmth.

But natured called, and she did have to at least check her phone.

Maybe Pan…

No, she wouldn’t think about him.

Let him go…

She sighed and regrettably removed herself from Jones’s hold, blushing when the sheets scraped her naked skin.

It was hard to believe. She’d been beaten and traumatized but the idea of giving up her womanhood was what was having the most profound effect on her.

She wasn’t a virgin anymore. It was the last thing she’d managed to hold on to from before Storybrooke before all its insanity got its hooks into her.

Now, with her short hair and circled eyes, she truly wasn’t the same girl who’d left London over two months ago.

She was new, darker.

Pan had given her her start; Jones had pushed her over the edge.

And, despite the morals swimming in her head, she was glad.

She was glad it had been her choice, that it was something she had had complete control of.

She smiled as she put on her underthings and dress, stalling her movements to prevent from making a noise. Perhaps Jones would be interested in hearing her revelation when he awoke?

Perhaps he also wouldn’t mind if she searched for substance in his kitchen? That crawfish from last night was long gone.

She located her bag and cellphone and quietly escaped the room, swiping through app notifications that had all but drained her battery.

She stopped in the hallway when she saw she had seven missed calls, three of which were from Tink.

She had a series of missed texts from her as well.

Wendy, please call me.

Wendy, it’s important.

I know I hurt you, but please I need you to call me.

Do you know what happened to Pan? Have you see him at all?

Wendy glanced around and found a random door. The room seemed to be an office of sorts, or a collection room judging by all the memorabilia, but quiet enough to make a phone call.

She called Tink, her stomach turning with apprehension. It seemed she wasn’t the only one who had noticed Pan’s absence then.

Tink answered after two rings.

“Wendy!” she said, her voice winded.

“Hey,” Wendy answered uncertainly. “What’s—”

“Where are you?” she cut in. “You – here – as soon as –”

“Tink?” Wendy said, moving around the room for a better signal. “You’re breaking up. What’s going on?”

“Wend—”

The line abruptly went quiet and Wendy cursed when she saw her phone had died.

She tossed her bag on Jones’s desk and untangled her charger from the rest of her belongings.

She squatted down to search under the desk, hoping to see a charging port, but there were too many boxes in the way.

She made a note to tease Jones’s about his hoarding as she pulled boxes out of the way, one of which was surprisingly lite and came out easily.

She stumbled a bit, tipping the box over and causing its contents to spill.

“Bloody hell,” she growled, her hands gathering the sheets of papers that had slipped out.

She shouldn’t have looked. Maybe it was journalist instincts that caused her to look down. It was defiantly trauma that made her bolt back when she saw the face on the paper.

Jekyll.

“No.”

No…no no…

It couldn’t be. How could Jones … why would he …

Her opposite hand fluttered around her, searching desperately for something to grab on to.

It brushed against something hard—a beeper? Hand’s shaking, she picked it up. She wasn’t sure what force was making her turn it on. She should be throwing it.

But it came to life and revealed its secrets.

WHY HAVEN’T YOU RESPONDED?

COMPRIMISED. BLUE EYES FOUND.

“Blue eyes,” Wendy pondered before the bluest pair of eyes she knew flashed across her mind. “Belle?”

PITY. YOU ARE NO LONGER OF ANY USED TO ME THEN.

GOODBYE.

That was it, and if Wendy had to guess Jekyll had had his brains blown out after receiving that message.

She dropped the beeper, wiping her hands frantically on her dress, not wanting any part of her on him.

She had been searching for Pan that night at the club. He had disappeared. She thought he abandoned her.

Jones had it. All this evidence that had been taken from…where? His secret lab under the hospital…

The car his corpse had been rotting in?

“I … I …”

Panic was setting in. The roots of her hair were standing straight up.

She could see Jekyll’s rotting corpse so clearly.

Pan had been there too. Talking to her. Keeping her from losing her mind.

She was searching for him in a sea of strangers. She felt so lost.

There had to be a logical explanation, right? Jones just picked up the beeper, found it somewhere …

She glanced at the overturned box again, full of Jekyll’s fucking face.

He didn’t pull them out of a dead man’s car, did he?

“Wendy?”

He heard him stop, seeing the mess around her.

She looked up at him and saw everything. The guilt of being caught, the secret of a man who had too many secrets.

And she knew right then that Jekyll wasn’t the only one.

It was like an arrow had gone straight through her skull, carrying a physical rage and boiling hurt that settled into one acidic fire.

She shot around, staring at the man who shot her, but only one thing—one person—had squirmed past the pain.

Pan hadn’t abandoned her…

And she needed him now.

She abandoned him.

“Where is he?”

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Yeah, I don’t write sex scenes sorry ;p

Still, sorry for the, what, year-long wait? Yikes. Going through some stuff and I just haven’t felt like writing. Trying to get into again, so hold on tight!

[wendimydarling]

Henry's characters as Greek/Roman Gods 😆

OKAY girl. I’m finally getting around to this. I did a lot of research as I’m not superly familiar with all of the greek gods and their stories, but I did a pretty good job I think, and I ran the list by @littlefreya and @agniavateira; they stan (for the most part)!

All of my info (including the quotes I will use) I pulled from this website, so if anything isn’t accurate, I’m sorry! Here we goooooooo!

Stephen Colley

Stephen Colley is Aristaeus, minor patron god of useful arts, such as gardening and hunting. I’m basing this off of who he was and his role to the family, NOT on the sudden acting career that was thrust upon him.

“In Greek mythology, Aristaeus was the god useful arts, such as bee-keeping and cheese-making, olive-growing, herding, and hunting. He was a rustic god, a god of the countryside and pastoral places.”

Aristaeus also would visit cities, see the problems, and find a solution, which is basically what Stephen did for the bitch he was in love with, to the detriment of his own heart.

Mikey

Mikey is Momus. the god of Mockery and Satire.

“Momus is typically depicted as a man lifting a mask from his face. In more modern art, he is depicted as a fool or king’s jester.

Greek tragedian Sophocles wrote a satyr play called Momus. Satyr plays were tragicomedies with choruses of satyrs. The plays were often full of drunkenness, sexuality, sight gags, and other forms of merriment.”

Mikey loves a good joke and to fool around. He didn’t take life seriously, he wanted to have fun. 

Melot

Melot is Dinlas, god of chaos and hatred. Dinlas was abandoned by his mother and banished to the underworld where Hades discovered him and turned him into an agent of darkness, similarly to how Melot wasn’t as well received by his uncle as Tristan was, and so was taken in by Wictred and used for evil.

Hades gave Dinlas a job that seemed right and good, much how Melot thought that he was doing what was best for the kingdom. Both of them sought acceptance and love wherever they could find it, and for both of them it was ultimately their downfall. 

Evan Marshall

Evan is the god Paean, physician to the Olympic gods. Paean treated everyone from Ares to Hades, he didn’t differentiate. This may seem like an obvious choice, but it goes a step further.

“The name “Paean” was also commonly used in a general sense to refer to anyone who could save people from evil or calamity.”

This is Evan. He was brought in by his brother to save their home from the evil that resided in that bunker, and he did what he had to, wishing to save not just his family but the family that lived there, regardless of what his brother thought. He didn’t differentiate, same as Paean.

Charles Brandon

Charles is Kratos, god of strength and power. I’m basing this off of the myths that include his lineage as the son of the Titans Pallas and Styx, which makes him a relative of the Olympian gods but not one of them directly.

“In this form, Kratos is seen as a companion of Zeus and the guardian of his throne. He is usually one of Zeus’ primary enforcers and is an extension of his will.”

This is Charles. Friend of the King and Enforcer of His Will, even when it means carrying out unnecessary vengeance, similarly to how Kratos was required to chain Prometheus to a rock to be tortured for all eternity after Prometheus stole fire for humans.

Clark Kent/Kal-El

Clark is Atlas, who was a Titan instead of a god. This might seem like an unusual choice, but hear me out. Atlas chose a side and lost, and because of it was forced to carry the weight of the heavens on his shoulders for the rest of his life. Clark too was forced to choose a side, and though he didn’t necessarily “lose”, he still had to carry the weight of that burden on his shoulders for the rest of his life.

“Atlas was known as being ‘stout-hearted,’ strong, resilient and only a little gullible”

Clark is all of those things. And when I say gullible, I more just mean that he’s so good, so innocent, people have been able to take advantage of him before. 

Napoleon Solo

Napoleon is Hermes, god of trade, thieves, travelers, and border crossings, guide to the Underworld. 

“Hermes was known to be quick and cunning and had the ability to freely move between the mortal and divine worlds. 

In some myths Hermes is also depicted as a trickster where he would outwit the gods either for the good of humankind or for his own personal amusement and satisfaction.

Both Homer and Hesiod portrayed Hermes as the author of skilled or deceptive acts, and also as a benefactor of mortals.”

This depicts Napoleon to a T. He played both sides to his benefit, and often “went against the man” if it benefited the greater good or if it amused him.

Captain Syverson

Captain Syverson is Zeus, god of law, order, and justice.

“Hesiod described Zeus as a god who “brought peace in place of violence” and referred to him as the “lord of justice”.”

There are many different character traits of Zeus that Syverson embodies: hospitality, willingness to avenge wrong, keeper of oaths, and he struck terror in his enemies. 

“According to “Work and Days” by Hesiod (line 59), Zeus was a carefree god who loved to laugh out loud. He was regarded as wise, fair, just, merciful, and prudent. He was also unpredictable – nobody was able to guess the decisions he would make.”

This also seems to me like Syverson. Although we don’t see him laugh much in the film, we do get a snippet of that smile when he greets Mahmoud.

“He is often described as a strong, imposing man with a regal body and long, often curly, hair. He usually had a short beard or scruff and carried his trusty thunderbolt at all times.”

Syverson is all of this except the long curly hair. His thunderbolt is the Beretta 92FS he’s always got tucked into his belt.

August Walker

August is Hades, god of the underworld. 

“Hades was depicted as stern and unyielding, unmoved by prayer and sacrifice.

[He] had a cap or helmet that made its wearer invisible.

His wife was Persephone, Demeter’s only daughter, whom he kidnapped and made his queen.”

August’s mission is his manifesto. He is unyielding in that sense; he will do whatever it takes to accomplish that goal, unmoved by the opinions and pleading of others. He worked for the CIA and they had no idea of his true intent, which makes him pretty invisible, and he would absolutely kidnap a woman to make her his bride (Trapped, anyone????). Although I think he would make her fall in love with him first.

Walter Marshall

Walter is the Hypnos, the god of sleep. Again, seems like an unusual choice, but hear me out. 

“Hypnos is said to be a calm and gentle god who helps mortal humans in their time of need.”

This is Walter. He is a gentle giant, who aids people when they need help the most. This is his job, this is his life. Hypnos lived in the underworld, in a cave that received no sunlight or moonlight. Walter lives his life in a similar darkness, his mind engulfed in the horrors of his job. Hypnos’s cave was surrounded by poppies and other plants that produce sleep, which explains why Walter always looks so tired. *cue laughing emoji*

Geralt of Rivia

I see Geralt as Heracles (Hercules). He did not choose the life he was given, but he used it for the good of people. 

“Heracles was known for his extraordinary strength, courage and cleverness. When his brawn would not suffice, he would call upon his wits...”

Hercules also had his Twelve Labors, which I equate to Geralt running around slaying monsters. Hercules often acted impulsively, and though done out of love, it would get him into trouble. Geralt does this too, though he would never admit it. His love for Jaskier, Yen, and Ciri gets him into heaps of scraps and trouble, which he is then often forced to serve his way out of. 

Thanks for this ask, @wondersofdreaming! Sorry it took me so long; it was a bit of a research project and I felt like I was in school again! 

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[littlefreya]

Penny Dreadful

Summary: Sherlock is cold, troubled and upset, his mind is fixed on cracking an unsolved murder. It’s the worst time to disturb him. But his hot-blooded little succubus wants to drag him into sin.

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x OFC (First-person POV)

Word count: 2.5K

Warning: 18+, smut, teasing, bratty behaviour, ass-smacking with a cane, slight cane play, primal play, unprotected rough sex, biting, slight size kink, MaleDom, drug use. Lots of curly hair descriptions.

A/N: Not canon to books Sherlock, obviously, but seeing the photos and teaser Henry as Sherlock just sets up the vibe. So I had to. Many thanks to my beta @agniavateira​ !! Sorry for the ugly cover art :D.

Title: Penny Dreadful

Sherlock’s study was a bleak, musky chamber deprived of heat, notwithstanding the many candles that burnt at every corner. Perhaps it was the pristine heaps of snow that piled on the ledge of the window, or maybe it was his sullen mood that gave the room a sense of icy wilderness. 

Fumes rose from his mouth, vaping into the air. The tawny light kissed his thick mane of luscious, chocolate curls while he stood at the fore of his desk and leered at some parchments that troubled his brilliant mind for whatever reason. 

Fist seizing the golden tip of his cane, his thumb stroked the engravings that embellished the metal. Cases that he couldn’t crack often left him frustrated to the point of madness. Those wicked, sly obsessions made him even more irresistible.  

My nails bit into the wooden doorframe. Consumed by yearning, a blaze licked up my soul with its monstrous tongue. I often wondered how something so pure as love could be dangerous, to which Sherlock would reply, 

“Love is the greatest villain of them all.”

Unlike him, I didn’t care for evil. 

The detective unclipped the small chain he kept fastened to his vest and opened the silver locket, gathering a wisp of white powder on the tip of his pinky finger and pressed it to his nostrils. A small grunt escaped him, his eyes turning glassy. The “fairy dust” tended to sharpen his perception and elevate his stamina.  

I dropped to my knees at his sight, crawling on the floor. The black silks of my dress made a brushing noise as it dragged on the Persian carpet; my breasts peeked as my corset shifted with every move. Sherlock often said we must imagine ourselves as animals once we let desire play our strings. 

Accepting my inner wildness, tonight I was a cougar stalking her prey. 

By nature, his senses were sharp as blades, though the substance that streamed through his veins made a more heightened grip of the reality that surrounded him. He noticed and yet ignored me, letting his hot-blooded harlot crave for his attention.

If I was to be the feline predator, Sherlock was the hunter who pursued me for sport. An unfair game, yet nevertheless my favourite. 

Bathing in my own little fountain of mischief, I allowed my fingers to sneak toward his cane, brushing up and down the mahogany in slow, languid motion. My slender digits licked along the shaft and my bosom followed, pressing against the hardwood. I dragged myself up slightly to glimpse at my master from below: my Sherlock, always a sight for a famished girl; a colossus, intimidating, and breathtaking. Like a moth to a flame, I inched closer dazed by the light, wanting to bask in its radiance. 

The muscle in his cheek tensed, thick brows furrowing. A little squared wrinkle appeared above the bridge of his nose as he brushed through his dark locks with agitation.

“What ills that glorious mind of yours?” I hummed, playful fingertips climbing further up at the length of his cane.

“Something I can’t grasp,” he spat, not giving me the time of day. But I knew he noticed every detail of my wanton behaviour, it was evident by the way his breath swiftly became heavier. Sherlock might have solved crimes by profession, but all women were natural detectives; evolution granted us with a definite survival instinct, learning to read men between the shadows.  

“You can possess me,” I offered, fingers scraping over his thumb as it pressed onto the cane’s golden tip. My voice dropped to a whisper while my hand left the cane in favour of his thigh. The muscle flexed and twitched under my sinful touch, the fabric of his breeches stretched as his cock grew with its natural need to fulfil the wet, convulsing void in me.

“You’re distracting me,” he warned, voice low and stern. His lashes hardly even fluttered to my direction. 

Every delicate little hair stood up at the sound of alarm yet instead, I inhaled the soot of peril, allowing my hand to travel further and meet his hungry girth. It rose to my touch with gratitude, flinching even harder at the clutch of my claws. The flavour of desire was honey and salt on the tip of my tongue.

The low animalistic vibration of his voice wavered through his solid form. I felt it shudder all the way down to his swelling cock. A cautious man, Sherlock was measured and forbearing to a point that made me wonder if he even liked women at all before we fell into the vicious pit of decadence and violent delights. 

It was the contrary that was true: Sherlock loved women very much, his desires were simply… of a certain quality. 

His groin was warm and firm against my cheek. The crystalline-blue glare finally graced me with a sight so brooding my bones clattered.  

“Later, I need to work.” By the drop of his voice, I knew there won’t be a third warning. 

“Later, Later…” I taunted, rolling my chin over his aching need. “All work and no play…”

The gasp that pushed out of my lungs nearly whisked the candles off as Sherlock hauled me up by his hand and bent me over the desk.  

“Should I teach you how to respect my time?” He snarled, throwing the skirts of my dress over my head like a cape of the midnight sky. Stars collapsed under my skin at the sensation of his touch exploring the curve of my bare ass. Talons ruptured the tiny blood vessels, squeezing with the affirmation of his ownership. 

“No undergarments?” Sherlock growled dangerously while his thumb brushed over my silken entrance, toying with the rich elixir and smearing it further down my anticipating petals. I answered with a deep moan, stretching on this desk with a succumbing plea. 

“You came here aimed at disturbing me while I work.”

Settling onto the surface of the desk, I reached forth one arm lazily and chuckled. “You are a great detective, I… oh!” 

Something cold and solid caressed my dripping lips, driving between them in slow, calculated strokes. Throwing my head over my shoulder, I noticed Sherlock holding his cane against my sacred cove, staring at it as if I was yet another piece of evidence to be explored. The golden arched-tip pushed-slightly between my petals and entered just enough to make me hiss. For a mere second I wondered if he was going to fuck me using nothing but his cane.

“Look away; this is going to hurt.” 

I hardly had time to protest when the first smack hit the pillow of my cheek. A wheeze of disgrace shot from my throat, husky and embarrassing, but not as degrading as the sting the metal left at my burning backside.

“Bad girl,” Sherlock ticked his tongue and lifted the cane midway in the air, a flare of noxious desire bursting in his pale-blue orbs. This time I turned away and shut my eyes, gripping the edge of the desk until my knuckles turned dead-white. If only it did anything to dull the pain, the sting was even more prominent, shooting all the way up to my spine where it coiled and forced a strident yip from my clamped lips. 

Yet the throb in my cunt was unmissable.

Sherlock knew very well that the hurt allied with pleasure, enhancing it even, like his powdery magic dust. 

Another smack and my nails scratched at the wood. Like a sinner nun indulging her own beating, I rode the waves of pain as they broke onto shores abundant with pleasure. There were hidden cracks in our public figure, the place where I burnt and Sherlock ascended as we pried our claws into mortal deadly sins. My senses rose to conflict with every smack and Sherlock took joy in every involuntary squirm of my body. 

Tongue pressed between his lips, he hummed as he admired his handiwork, painting my ass in obscene hues of violence. “Had enough? Or want to see which will break first, the rod or your arrogance?” Sherlock chided and pinched my sore cheek to further increase the pain. 

Embers whispered beneath my flesh, my legs jolted from the intense beating and by god, the trickle of my juices rolling down the back of my thighs made even a sultry woman such as myself drown in white shame.

Sherlock’s breath was a heavy guttural waft. His cane dropped to the floor and I heard the sound of metal clicking as he fumbled with his belt. I would be damned if I let him fuck me from behind. To have those eyes look away as he entered me was a vice I wouldn’t stand. 

“No!” I yelled, bracing on my wobbly elbows as much as I could and turned to face him. 

Sherlock’s glare widened, a chill of ice blew through his eyes and his pupils dilated like a crazed feline. “You’re saying no to me?”

“Yes!” I heaved and reached my hands to cradle his skull, pushing myself against the hardness of his body and forcing my lips on his. My kiss was feral, bruising the plush skin on and around his mouth, nibbling and biting until we tasted iron on our tongues. It was not long before I was shoved against the wall, our mouths still united, sharing one breath.

Or rather stealing it from one another.

We were pleasingly unequal. Sherlock was all iron and stone; a bulky, tall man who could tear me apart with his bare hands. I was a little lush thing, so tender, so easily bruised. Despite his power, the desire to claim the tiny wet hole between my legs was unquenchable, reducing him to a savage thing that spoke in raw inarticulate sounds.

He tore his mouth from mine and swept me up from the ground, hiking the skirts of my dress urgently to expose what he coveted the most. I felt the supple velvety texture of his hardness grind against my thigh, smearing the pearly drops of his arousal onto my skin. We both moaned at the sensation and moved to the rhythm dictated by our most primal instincts.  

“You want my cock?” He growled and gnawed his teeth at my neck, biting deep enough to break through the skin. I whined in pain, my voice rising a pitch as I writhed against him to ignite the smallest of frictions and serve the demon of desire in me. 

“Fuck me!” I begged, sliding my fingers through the mass of soft curls and tugging them with need.

Answering my plea, Sherlock speared into my unruly cunt, brutally spreading me open like he would tear the petals from a flower. I yipped into his luscious hair, my nails tearing into his nape as his intrusion claimed everything my body had to offer. I always found it odd how my flesh would resist and beg for him at the same time, my succulent canal fighting to push him by instinct yet he only further rutted into me. He reached his hands to my sore ass to squeeze my cheeks apart.

“Such a tight little harlot,” he groaned, engulfed by my garden of mysteries. Moaning so loudly, our duet reverberated through the corridors of the house. His lashes fluttered with ecstasy as he pulled back only to force me down on his imposing cock, attempting to rip through my denial. Or it was to tame me as I clenched around his girth, accepting and resisting him at the same time. I was nothing but a vessel for him to fill, and he did so with a fiery passion, glaring straight to my eyes while thrusting deep and hard into me.  

Books fell from the shelves nearby as we battled against the wall, my legs sliding up and down his waist, spreading helplessly in the air until my boots pressed into his arse. One of his hands reached for my corset, tugging on the ludicrous outfit to expose my breast. Ravenous, he licked his bloodstained lips, giving me a stare that made my cunt clutch him harder before he sank his fangs to pierce cavities in my tit.

“No!!!” I cried out and gasped as he thrust deeper to punish me for my protest. His heavy cock hit a spot so deep inside me that tears instantly emerged and fell down my cheeks, the pang bringing through a spasm of odd relief. 

Blood and saliva smeared along my cleavage as he dragged his lips further, licking and then kissing every patch he bruised. I moaned breathlessly, throwing my head back against the wall as his nimble fingers surveyed my neck, laying small threats to show me how easy he could simply suspend my very basic need. 

But my survival instincts already flew out the window the moment he penetrated me.

His lips hovered above mine as he fucked deep into my body, our cries creating an obscure symphony as he continuously slammed into my hilt, harder and more urgent with every plunge. The tears that fell down my cheeks were tainted with the conflicting aphrodisiac that pain brought through. In that instant I was whole, gratified by the friction created of the collision of our wet organs.

“Do it!” I gasped and nodded through glossy stares, swallowing hard to gesture what he already knew. With a swift snap of his hands, his fingers were bruising on my neck and he slammed into me at a furious pace, giving no care for my broken screams. 

Euphoria tore through my soul, crashing like hot waves of eternal fire. I came apart around his thick rod crying for God and Satan at once. Sherlock never slowed down, not even as he felt the tightening of my ring around him. It only made him fuck me harder, burying his face at my collarbone, chasing his own rapture at a punishing speed, grunting like a beast. Finally, he shuddered and pumped me full of his thick, silky milk. The muscles of his behind flexed and he ground his hot load into my warm cavern, making sure I received every drop. My hands reached to squeeze his taut ass as my legs clutched him still, wanting to keep him inside me. 

As if he had any intentions of leaving as he moaned and spasmed inside me. 

Smoke filled the room as few of the candles died; the scent of ash and the musk of our sex seeped through our noses while we remained entwined, shaking in each other’s grasp. Breathless and damp with sweat, Sherlock lifted his face from my neck and glanced at me looking so vulnerable, almost appearing lost. I moved my trembling hands back to his face, my thumbs caressing his sharp cheeks. 

“I know I am harsh…” he murmured, his eyes digging into my heart with nothing but a gaze of despair, “but please don’t ever leave me.”

My face fell at the sound of his words, my lips parting with awe. My detective could solve the most outrageous crimes, and yet he couldn’t realise I was shackled to him for all eternity.  

[spicemommy]

reddie fic recs

no particular order

Men of Fall by kaboomslang - Rated E - 7K

Do you remember? He watches his own hand slide closer along the armrest. Do memories transfer by touch, in this fucked up magic town? Remember, Richie, please, and tell me I wasn’t imagining things.

Bright as yellow by speakslow - Rated E - 120K

“ ‘Remember that hot guy I couldn’t stop turning around to stare at while watching the movie? Y’know, the one I stalked? He’s being hilarious in my math class full of nerds.’ You honestly think that’s my fault, Eds?”

Eddie felt his cheeks heating up, because Richie was right about all of it. Well, most of it. “My name is Eddie, not Eds. And I didn’t stal–”

“Nice to meet you, Eddie. See, isn’t that better? Eddie and Richie, Richie and Eddie. R plus E. It has a nice ring to it.”

wonder violet by belby - Rated M - 74K

"Right." Eddie's not sure what to think. "Well, thanks, for sticking up for me." Eddie's also not sure if he means that, but it feels like something he should say.

"Yeah, 'course," Richie replies. "You're my sister's best friend."

heaven isn’t too far away by reddieforlove - Rated E - 14K

Eddie has a problem. To fix it, he goes to extreme measures and calls a phone sex hotline. Little does he know that the person who he matches up with will change everything.

Let’s Hear it For the Boy by sloppybitch - Rated E - 9K

Eddie’s just trying to see if he’s not alone when he downloads Grindr on his phone. It’s by pure, terrifying coincidence that one of the first messages he receives on there is from none other than Richie freaking Tozier.

Long story short:

trashmouth;) (11:03PM): oh me, oh my. fancy seeing u here

Eddie (11:33PM): holy FUCKING SHIT.

AND

Let’s Give the Boy a Hand by sloppybitch - Rated E - 24K

After finding each other on Grindr and sharing a couple of saucy texts and a phone call that would make a nun faint, Richie and Eddie find each other in the clubhouse, and they... talk. Sure, they talk. Let’s call it talking.

Beverly, meanwhile, discovers that none of the Losers have ever gotten drunk, and what’s being a teenager without breaking a few drinking laws? Ben has a free house, and Eddie has never been more afraid of a game of Truth or Dare in his entire fucking life.

AND

Let’s Hear It For My Man! by sloppybitch - Rated E - 47K

Eddie has never been in a relationship before Richie, and boy, is he paying for it. He's never been so worked up before; hormones high and flying ever since he'd had his first taste of him - he can't stop.

When Richie mumbles a warm, deep-rooted wish into Eddie's ear on the night of their one month anniversary, there's little else that Eddie can think about. Mind and body consumed by his boyfriend, Eddie formulates a plan: do everything in his power to make their first time as perfect as possible.

He wants Richie to fuck him.

He wants Richie to make love to him.

Fuck. He loves him. Fuck.

The Power of Sexting by piginawig - Rated E - 4K

Richie accidentally sends Eddie a shirtless picture. Things escalate from there.

Or, Richie and Eddie play Gay Chicken: Sexting Edition.

you’re allowed to own a sex toy (you’re even allowed to use it) by cloudassless- Rated E - 8K

Arms laden with candy, Eddie takes the stairs two at a time, balancing his precious cargo. He elbows the bedroom door out of his way and starts to say, "We don't even have 3 Musketeers, you picky asshole," but the words fizzle and die on his lips when he enters his room.

Richie is sitting cross-legged with his back against the headboard, nodding his head distractedly to the beat of the music. His glasses are pushed up on the top of his head, and his long, pale fingers are spinning Eddie's vibrator like it's a twirling baton.

fellas, is it gay to jack a bro off? by didsw - Rated E - 10K

They’ve skipped class to do this. This; meaning the two of them sneaking off from fourth period to blow each other behind the school, down near where the property ends and the grass starts to run high.

It didn’t start off so crass, with Richie’s pants hoisted around his waist and his head thumping against the brick of the school. He’s completely out in the open and shivering because he left his windbreaker in his locker, warm only where Eddie’s hand and Eddie’s mouth is on him, fuck. It’s completely ridiculous. Absurd. Insane. And now, apparently, it’s the new normal.

Or: Eddie and Richie are Totally Straight FWBs

Third Time’s the Charm by Mackintosh14 - Rated E - 17K

Eddie squeezed his hand, not knowing what to say. Somehow, knowing that it was temporary amnesia made him feel a lot better. The other man squeezed back, and smiled, but it was a complicated smile. It looked like it hurt.

"You . . ." said Eddie, taking a stab at who the man must be. "Are you my . . . boyfriend?"

The man froze, then scoffed, looking at him with saucer-wide eyes.

(In other words, Eddie wakes up in a hospital just outside of Derry with no memory of who he is or what happened to him.)

Things That Happen After Eddie Lives by IfItHollers - Rated E - 107K

In a world where Richie manages to save Eddie from It after the deadlights, they still have problems on their to-do list. Featuring everything from Derry to Los Angeles—Richie Tozier's murder trial, Eddie Kaspbrak's divorce proceedings, bedsharing of the platonic and non-platonic varieties, an investigation of magic, a truly disgusting séance, the quintessential morosexual road trip, and OH MY GOD THEY WERE ROOMMATES.

Zero Characters Left by stellarbisexual - Rated E - 44K

Eddie works in social media at a tech start-up in Boston, and Richie's been hired to do some video production for the company.

Characters are aged-up to their late twenties, and this takes place in 2017.

Fall Away From Me (I Just Can’t Take It) by The_lazy_eye - Rated E - 19K

It’s okay, though, Eddie tells himself. It’s all fine. This is part of their arrangement. This is a casual thing they have going. It’s his own stupid fault for catching feelings for someone he agreed to casually fuck. Especially when that person is his best friend from childhood.

Stay for the Storm by inoubliable - Rated E - 20K

“Richie and Eddie had become friends almost on sight. Since they met, most of Eddie's time in Los Angeles has involved Richie in some way.

It's a little different, now that they're both famous.

It's a little different, now that they're sleeping together.

Well, to be fair, they've been sleeping together for a long time, but. No one knows, not even their friends. Eddie has been very careful about that. It's just not the sort of publicity he needs.

So when Beverly calls him that sunny Thursday morning, the last thing he expects her to say is, "You're fucking Richie?”

Havana by chucknovak - Rated E - 32K

Eddie Kaspbrak, a senior in college, lives a closeted life. That life, however, is challenged when he meets Richie Tozier on spring break.

Leftovers by sloppybitch - Rated M - 5K

“It’s hard to stay away from him when it’s the only thing that keeps him stable.

Everybody seems to have settled back into life so easily. Ben and Beverly are sharing a room now, did you know? Mike’s already booked his flights to Florida and Bill’s catching the bus to the airport at noon tomorrow.

Richie’s just floating now, tour postponed and agent fucking pissed at him — and floating? Probably not the best word to use right now, but fuck you, is what Richie says to that, he’s reclaiming it. That’s right, Richie’s reclaiming the word floating like it’s the word queer or something, and fuck you, he can say that too.”

Richie can’t forget what he saw in the deadlights, and the echo of Eddie’s potential dying words only seems to quieten whenever Richie’s as close to him as possible.