#she is a complicated person and I find her more interesting than most of the gang
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
river-of-wine · 1 year ago
Text
I don’t think Miss Grimshaw is ever actually discussed with the nuance she requires but as the Molly O'Shea woman I do not want to get into all of that
22 notes · View notes
pumpkinrootbeer · 1 year ago
Text
I've started watching succession for the first time and my recap so far (I'm halfway through s2)
Shiv: she has crazy girlboss disease and I think many of her problems would be solved if she ate some pussy, 10/10 I love her and want her to act at least 43% more unhinged
Roman: literally deranged. a wet dog left outside in a box type of pathetic I want things to get so much worse for him. 10/10 ban him from ever getting professional help whatever is wrong with him is way funnier
Kendall: I have so many complicated feelings. Like he like sucks but in a way that is not nearly as fun for me as the other two but also he's so just miserable I can't look away any self distruction from him just gives me tummy aches ???/10
Two for the price of one Tom and Greg as a horrific bonus feature: I honestly hate both of them sorry.... like Tom would be engaging if he was idk. like 10% crazier and also a woman and Greg. if Greg was more pathetic I would be capitvated but I'm just like "oh cool tomfucker9000 is on the screen again" 4/10
Logan: Logan Logan/Logan
Bonus round: I love Conner I'm a conhead for life easily the funniest character, I thought I'd like maria in s1 but as it went on I realized she actually does like Logan for who he is absolutely devisating, I love gerri I love milfs I hope she makes roman worse and continues to use him for her own self achieving means. also Tabitha should be my girlfriend instead actually
I will update when I have more thoughts
#Greg would be interesting if he had a coke addiction and then did vehicular manslaughter over it#But he's just got a bunch of wishy washy morals that he uses to feel better than the people he's surrounded himself with#but will throw them out the moment it's convenient#again if he was like 10x more pathetic I would be captured by his horrific ways instead he's just. idk he's there#Tom would also be interesting to me if he was just a little worse with it instead I find him deeply unappealing sorry#Shiv is like really interesting to me bc Greg only has morals when it's convenient#but shiv only has them at the most inconvenient times for her#she just can't fully commit to being a terrible person but is also still sooo awful and I love that in a woman#Kendall also has that same swag to varying degrees but I have so many complicated feelings on him#he's like less vulnerable than Roman but he's still so deeply broken especially in s2 when he's drunk the coolaid#Which is why I'm so obsessed with that slap scene like he was in full fawn mode over Logan but even that was still a bridge too far#I need to chew on him that's so interesting#anyway#succession#I want more con but I want nothing bad to happen to him ever#ALSO#Gerri is so like. Ugh I love her#Ik whatever the fuck is going on between her and Roman is a ticking time bomb that shit can not end well#But even if she is just using him for her own self gain I literally do not care#Like at least there's fucking someone in this show in Romans corner like actually in his corner#Her chasing her own success means she has to chase Romans as well bc he is her avenue to that success so it's like#yeah girl so whatever the fuck you want#To be very clear I do not roman to be CEO or involved in the company at all let my rescue dog free babyyyy#But at this point I just need at least one person who is actually trying to get Roman ahead I do not care if she's only doing it for hersel#At least she's fucking doing it ya know 😭#Also she's so hot. sorry
1 note · View note
dreammfyre · 5 months ago
Text
targaryen dynasty ⋆ jacaerys velaryon
Tumblr media
SUMMARY. You are the first daughter of Daemon and Laena Velaryon, betrothed to Prince Jacaerys Velaryon whom you have known since childhood. Queen Rhaenyra personally asked you to seek out knights and ladies with Targaryen blood to try and get them to claim a dragon to join the cause. You, always so attached to reading and the most studious and intelligent, did not hesitate to obey your queen, however, it was proving to be more difficult than you imagined. Luckily, Jacaerys knows how to help you.
WARNIGS. (+18) Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!oc. Targaryen incest. Smut, oral (fem receiving).
NOTE. The thuth is that I don't know how thid got 5000 words, but here we are!!!
If anyone asked you, you had no idea how long you had been locked in the castle library. The queen had left you the task of researching in depth about the Targaryen lineage with valyrian blood and the right to claim a dragon, you did not refuse to comply with her orders, you were known for your intellect and interest about history, always with a different book under your arm, you handled data that the others did not, so you were in your comfort zone. However, you did not imagine it was going to be so complicated, you had had breakfast and lunch in the library in solitude, which meant that you had been locked up all day among papyrus, books written in the language of your family, you had read about the dragons still alive, especially Vermithor and Silverwing, but you found more than you needed and your attention jumped from subject to subject, you had never access to such a place and did it hold information on Targaryen history from the time of the conquerors to the reign of Jaehaerys I Targaryen.
"My lady," Elinda's voice, so soft and gentle as she addressed you, dissipated your attention causing you to turn your head up from your reading. The maid was standing in the doorway and you behind the wooden desk in the midst of your own chaos, you had ordered not to be disturbed unless it was an emergency. "why don't you go upstairs to dine with the queen in parlor?"
"I'm fine, thank you." You smiled trying to put on your best face, the truth was you didn't want to appear before Rhaenyra without any advances.
Elinda sighed knowing she wasn't going to be able to convince you to come out for fresh air, she wasn't surprised at your response, always so stubborn and driven to your ideas.
"It's okay, I know you, so I went ahead and brought dinner up here." She said walking over with the silver tray holding a steaming plate and a cup. "Eat before you rest, you've spent a lot of time in this place, you haven't been eating well and we don't want your body to weaken."
You nodded and thanked her before she left. You watched the food from afar without appetite, so you went back to reading, the Targaryen bloodline had expanded to different places, moving out of King's Landing and Dragonstone to other lands. You were writing down the possible names of knights and ladies with what needed to claim a dragon, so far there weren't many options, but you didn't want to be left in doubt you looked everywhere. You stood up to look for another book that you had not yet read, this time from the houses to the north, you had a mess everywhere and on every table, open books, scattered papyrus, the shelves almost empty. Your notes on the other hand, Valyrian texts that you read without problems, as if a hurricane had swept away the order.
You took from the cup that Elinda had brought you with sweet wine to which you gave a generous gulp. You paced back and forth reading and reviewing the history, trying to find useful connections to the present, back and forth, flipping through the pages and drinking. When you started to get dizzy from the spinning you found no better idea than to sit on the table crossing your legs no matter how uncomfortable your clothes were, on your thighs you opened the heavy book so you could hold the glass in your hands.
"Are you still here?" Jacaerys had entered the library, taking you by surprise. The heir found you in the middle of the mess, surrounded by papers, sitting on the table which was frowned upon for a lady. "I haven't seen you all day."
"I think I hate the Targaryen." You sighed, relaxing your shoulders and looking up. Jacaerys smiled coming closer, watching the mess around you out of the corner of his eye, but he was sure you were the one to find what Rhaenyra was looking for. "Is that wine?" he pointed to your goblet raising his eyebrows.
"Elinda feeds me like an imprisoned animal."
"I doubt an imprisoned animal would be fed lamb and wine." This time it was you who smiled. "How are you doing with your mission?"
"I found some names that might be of use, let's hope they are still alive." You replied setting the cup aside, on top of other papers that were of no use to you at the moment. "The children of King Jaehaerys and Queen Alyssane were a great starting point that I cannot yet move on from."
"My mother asked about your absence at the table. I told her you needed time, and that I was going to keep an eye on you." You nodded, a little flushed at the last part, but you knew how to hide it.
"That's Visenya Targaryen?" Jace asked excitedly as he looked at the draw in the book open on your legs, moving closer to you to get a better look, invading your space.
"Queen Visenya," you corrected him causing him to apologize. "Vhagar's first rider." You looked at the image closely admiring her beauty, trying to take in the closeness of Jacaerys. "And the first in her name."
Jacaerys watched you from the corner of his eye biting the inside of his cheek, he liked the way you corrected him, even on some occasions when you chatted privately he would purposely get it wrong to make you angry. You just looked up meeting your fiancé's gaze, which made him realize he had gone silent.
"This place is…" the heir looked around you carefully analyzing the place, he didn't know how to continue the sentence without offending you.
"Say it, a complete mess." You sighed exhaustedly.
The prince nodded with concern for your well being, you are his fiancée and he had to take care of you, he looked at you noticing your tired eyes, your hair a bit messy falling a few unruly strands down your face, the dress disarranged on your shoulders. And somehow, through his eyes, even though it sounded bad and he didn't have the courage to admit it out loud, that was attractive.
He took a lock of your hair and tidied it behind your ear, it was a gesture he repeated and you liked it.
"Do you need help?" you denied immediately, you didn't want to look pitiful or desperate. "Don't be proud, I know you."
"Apparently it's not as simple as I imagined." You said discouraged, looking at the papers scattered around you. You closed the book putting it aside, you couldn't think anymore, you were blocked, tired and your body was asking you to eat and rest, maybe not in that order. You stretched your legs, still sitting on the table with Jacaerys watching you. "Targaryen dynasty is vast and diffuse, complex to trace, now I understand why several names are missing. I don't want Rhaenyra to be disappointed, I'm trying my best."
Hearing you, Jacaerys quickly interrupted placing his hand on your thigh unknowingly unleashing a shiver down your back. "The queen could not have chosen anyone better than you, you are the smartest lady I know." He said sincerely, positioning his other hand on your shoulder. "Go to sleep, you need it."
Tired, you rested your forehead on his shoulder resting on it. Jacaerys stroked your loose hair without removing his hand on your leg. The physical contact comforted you, but you didn't accept it often, so it was a surprise for the prince to have you so close.
"I'll dream of dragons." You joked with your eyes closed, Jace's scent intoxicating you immediately. "I'll stay a while longer, I think I know where to find a thread to pull on."
"Eat something first." He added as he noticed the tray with the untouched plate. His caresses relaxed you, feeling his fingers tangle in your hair made you feel a delicious shiver, so you let him repeat it, even his tone of voice relaxed your muscles.
"I'm not hungry yet."
Jacaerys swallowed hard as your warm breath hit his neck, bristling his skin. He didn't know how the hell she was managing to control himself like that, when she held you close his thoughts were easily confused and the heart was about to burst out of his chest. In a moment of weakness, the prince closed her eyes in order to intensify the sensations, in the middle of the silence and taking advantage of the hidden place where they were, she squeezed thigh on the fabric of the dress, it was not strong, just enough to steal a sigh and that now the tachycardia clouded your reason. You didn't know at what moment that comforting embrace turned into a boundary of something else, Jacaerys Velaryon stirred as he felt the tip of your nose brush against his exposed neck before you, a slow, torturous contact.
The heir's hands were too still, he was controlling himself as much as his duty allowed him. While you had little interest in complying with the damned traditions, they were teenagers, you couldn't ask much of them in that regard.
The tension of their bodies rubbing against each other grew with each movement in a pleasant and affectionate rhythm, but you urgently needed it to increase, so you opened your legs to surround his body with your thighs, the prince did not think a second to position himself between them taking advantage to squeeze your ass tearing you a sigh that vanished in his mouth. You brought your lips to his neck leaving kisses all over, Jacaerys did not want to stop you, he had fallen too easily into the game. The prince's hands were eager to touch as much as possible went up from your waist to your breasts, you had never seen him like that, then your fiancé sought your mouth before you kissed his bristling skin again.
"Jace…" you whispered against his lips touching slowly with yours, your warm breath hitting his face, he could hear the desperation in your call looking into your eyes, but his gaze was focused on your wet lips.
Shit. His name sounded so different when you said it.
It was he who had the courage - or the impulse - to make the move to close the distance between you, an accurate approach to trap your lips between his, his hand took your jaw and prey to your desires you opened your mouth to let his tongue enter your cavity, sticky, wet noises echoed off the stone walls as Jacaerys brushed his tongue along yours. The taste of sweet wine ended up intoxicating him as well. His slow movement caused a wave of heat to grow in the underside of your belly, you rested a hand behind the back of his neck, tangling your fingers in his wavy hair.
Your heart could not calm down, on the contrary, it begged for more. The crown prince began to lift your red dress, a messy piece of infinite fabric, so you clumsily helped him by crumpling it until he slipped his hand underneath it, running his fingers over your bare skin playing with your sanity by how slowly he explored.
"Someone could see us at any moment." You reminded him that they weren't in the privacy of your quarters or his, trying to gesture because your labored breathing was making it hard to think.
"They can listen to whatever they want." He responde kissing your neck moving down to your collarbones, the heat of his mouth on your skin felt like the most exciting thing you had ever tasted. The intense grip on your legs didn't bother you at all because it was him, his deep voice made you bristle complete when he whispered too intoxicated in the moment to be his usual proper prince self. "I said I would take care of you."
You laughed at how little importance he gave to your innocent concerns, too sure that nothing was going to happen, but maybe it was just adrenaline and desire clouding his rational thoughts. Jacaerys kept going down, kissing between your breasts on the fabric, until he knelt before you, you held your breath when you understood his intentions, he raised his gaze towards you, an intense silence where your nobility was at stake for falling into carnal temptation, it was a few seconds until you decided to lift the skirt of your dress so he could have the access he desired.
Your fiancé began to kiss the inside of your thighs gently, just that minimal contact made you tremble on the table. "Don't close your legs." He ordered.
Your cheeks flared in heat as a reminder of the sin they were committing, yes, it was your fiancé who was between your legs unabashedly, but it was still Jace, whom you had known all your life and had grown up together, the most proper prince Westeros had ever seen, so devoted to duty that no one would imagine he would be able to steal your innocence out of wedlock, but there he was, he was the same, kneeling before you like a believer, kissing your thighs feeling his hot breath approaching your cunt exposed to his delight. The sighs coming out of your mouth were intensifying as Jacaerys swollen lips approached your most sensitive area making him beg, you felt he was toying with your sanity but he only wanted to extend your pleasure as long as you would hold out. Your hands clutched at the fabric of your dress, his wet tongue flicked across your cunt, he didn't quite finish his journey when your knees had the urgent urge to close like a natural spasm, but Jacaerys prevented it by holding your legs tightly apart for him, continuing his work of giving you the pleasure you deserved.
"Oh, Jace, gods." You said with bated breath, an emotional torture of not knowing how far you could go before you screamed. His tongue kept licking like candy, unabashedly tasting knowing what he was doing, moving up and down listening to your moans that excited him as much as it did you to feel his mouth on your center, the heir seemed to be having fun taking his time under your dress, reveling in your desperation. The warm wet sensation on your folds sliding down began to make you desperate, in an attempt to quiet your moans so as not to draw attention to yourself you bit your tongue so hard that the moan was one of pain rather than pleasure. You crumpled some papers in search of what to hold on to, you closed your eyes intensifying the spasms even more. "Jacaer…"
Saying his name seemed the most difficult task.
You managed to feel the crown prince's long fingers opening your pussy slippery with his saliva and your transparent wetness dripping. Again he ventured in with his mouth, this time with more euphoria and hunger, making little circles with his tongue, drowning himself in you tasting your cunt as he had never done to any of the whores on the island, with you he took great pains to get it right. Agitated, chest rising and falling from your erratic breathing the prince placed one of his hands on your belly as if he knew you were looking for him, intertwining his fingers you squeezed as his tongue pushed into your entrance. Curiosity as to how he learned to do that had to wait because your legs began to tremble and you began to move struggling against the strength of Jacaerys who wasn't going to stop servicing you until you were done.
"Please… Jace."
"You are so wet." Said the prince as an accomplishment, but you were embarrassed to know how vulnerable you were before him. The sound of his mouth playing with your clit, so wet and wrong, similar to a kiss where Jace was just doing all y he work. You searched for his head with your hand which was complicated by being hidden under your skirt, the damn dress prevented you from looking into his eyes, you wanted to look at him and beg his face not to stop now that you were so close to touching the best orgasm of your life. Jacaerys was struggling with your legs, so he put your thigh over his shoulder without letting go of your hand. "You have to hold on a little longer. I promise you'll like it."
"I c-can't." You cried trembling.
Between your legs, Prince Velaryon was reveling in your pleasure with a painful erection trapped in his pants that only hardened against the fabric with every high-pitched moan coming from your throat. He had to be strong to hold back the urge to take advantage of your wetness and penetrate you right then and there, that wasn't the first time he thought of you that way nor was it going to be the last after tonight, he would go to his quarters overwhelmed to attend to himself just thinking of you for another night. You were so open that with a little strength you could take it, but you were not ready for the moment and deep down, Jacaerys felt just as guilty for giving in to temptation by breaking traditions, disrespecting you to a lady of nobility.
"Jace, oh, like that." You moaned wiggling your hips.
But shit, he couldn't take one more moon without claiming that belongs to him. Your whole body, your every desperate moan and plea. It was an addictive melody that he didn't want it to end.
You reached for his head with your hand under the cloth that was being Jacaerys' salvation because if he saw your sweaty face, pink cheeks and pleading gestures he wasn't going to be able to hold back the urge, fucking you right there on that table. Merciful to your clumsiness, Jace took your hand turning it towards the back of his neck, you tangled his wavy hair between your fingers, bringing it closer to your center than it already was which only encouraged your fiancé to lose control by gently biting your cunt and with his finger caressing your exposed clit like a throbbing button.
"Gods!" You exclaimed so loudly that Jace feared for both of your lives. You covered your mouth yourself, waiting for someone to walk in and find them you sitting at the table with the heir kneeling between your legs under your dress. "I-I'm sorry." You whispered in exasperation.
"Scream whatever you want." It was a command rather than a comfort.
And you listened to him. Your body couldn't resist any longer, the spasms were getting stronger and Jacaerys knew you were close to orgasm, your legs faltered and couldn't hold still. You pulled your fiancé's hair, which instead of annoying him, he liked to feel. You mumbled incoherently, cursing everything, your hips couldn't stay still and Jacaerys' tongue wasn't making it any easier. You let go of the heir's hand on your belly to cover your mouth, however, Jace grabbed your wrist preventing that from happening. The rule had been clear, he wanted to hear you screaming his name to burn it into his memory, he wanted to hear your whimpers and pleas not to stop, your choked moans, the curses and incoherent ramblings.
"Jace!" your chest was rising and falling so fast you felt short of breath. The pressure between your legs was increasing, you closed your eyes tightly trying to hold on a second longer, but it was impossible. "Oh, shit!"
Your orgasm came as a spasm that controlled your whole body, from your hair to your legs. Jacaerys knew it when the tension in your muscles disappeared and he didn't have to exert any more force to hold you back. His pace slowed considerably, he didn't hold back from licking one last time.
Your body was wracked, aroused to return to normal. Your chest was expanding and contracting fast, the sweaty skin made it look shiny. Your body had peaked, and now, you missed Jacaerys' tongue between your legs. The heir stepped out from under your skirt, his mouth wet from his own saliva and your wetness in a mixture that soaked into his pink, swollen lips. The prince was red in the face, his hair falling down his face in the most exciting mess, he looked so good. He wiped his mouth with his clothes and fixed his hair behind his ears without taking eyes off you.
"You were very good lady." He stroked his thumb across your red cheek, you closed your eyes at his gentle, almost brotherly caress, a well-deserved congratulations. You were still weak and rambunctious with ragged breathing and a high pulse, your body wasn't going to withstand another orgasm, not for tonight. Jace moved closer to your face, he wanted to admire you up close, your exposed neck was the target of a kiss. "Did you like it?" he whispered so slowly against your ear that a shiver brought you back to reality. His breath beating against your damp skin was a reminder that you were completely crazy about him, no one in all of Westeros could service you so well.
You nodded in shame and innocence. You couldn't hear him, but you knew he was smiling.
"Y-yes." You replied looking into his eyes. Your innocent look reignited the fire in Jacaerys, who was still holding back the urge to fuck you.
The prince closed his eyes and swallowed saliva in frustration. He had to be aware that no matter how good it felt, it wasn't right.
"We can't do it here again." He took your face in his hands caressing your skin with his fingers. You nodded again, seeing you so obediently at his mercy only triggered his excitement, fighting until the last second. Jacaerys moved closer to your face, you closed your eyes expecting him to kiss you, but you only felt the brush of his lips against yours and his breath against your mouth. "Next time I'll rip that fucking dress off you myself with my bare hands."
2K notes · View notes
lxdymoon0357 · 7 months ago
Note
Hello 👋 can I pls request relationship and suggestive headcanons for Claude (wmmap) Regis (FIDWYM) and Lante Agriche with a female reader? Thank you ❤️
(some days, I'm gonna be better and consistent...:[ | Warnings: mentions of dying at childbirth, blood, murder, NSFW content, diana-claude poly mentions? idk..Anyways, NSFW content. )
© Writing belongs to me, Lxdymoon0357. Do not plagiarize, but reblogging, liking and commenting is deeply appreciated.
Tumblr media
Claude De Alger Obelia, Legis Floyen and Lante Agriche SFW/NSFW HCs
Tumblr media
Claude De Alger Obelia
Tumblr media
♕ Definitely loves to spoil you! He loves to spoil you when he can, bringing jewellery, making your favourite food, spending extra time with you, buying you clothes, flowers, gifts, anything you want! He is always happy to spoil you, Athy gets a bit worried, but she also loves you and makes handmade gifts for you which you definitely appreciate!
♕ Constantly worried for your health and safety, has a maid and a guard follow you everywhere, he would let them follow you to the bathroom if it wasn't unethical, but yeah..Constantly worried something is gonna happen to you..
♕ Also, constantly making sure you're in top health, always consults doctors about anything he finds unusual on you, if you two were to have kids, he's have a long talk with doctors if you can have kids and there won't be any complications and if anything were to happen, if he'd be able to save you over the kid...
♕ Definitely not loosing you to childbirth like he lost Diana, you both are the biggest jewels in his eyes and he doesn't want to lose you like he lost Diana. Definitely thinks how you both would be with each other if you met, would you both like each other more than him? Would you be open to be with both of them or would he simply be with Diana and you'd go off with someone else??
♕ You, him and Athy spend a lot of time together, eating, tea parties, talking about trends, gossiping or anything in between about Athy's love interests or something. Sometimes even Jeanette joins you both, she's so happy to be included, but after Anastacius left with her, she was happy to learn things from far away, you gave her your blessings, she'll miss all of you but tries to find time to visit when she can..
♕ You and Claude would dance together late at night for fun, it's so quiet and so intimate and so romantic, cue you both forgetting the dance and end up making out against a wall with him leaving hickeys! speaking of them, he leaves TOO many damn hickeys, it's his love language at one point...
♕ He is a busy man, being an emperor and all, but he still finds time for you, you're the most important thing to him after Athy and he tries to find time for both of you, together and individually like during meals, before he goes to sleep, after he wakes up, free time, he loves to spend it with you or alone doing something he enjoys..
Tumblr media
♕ He is romantic while sex, but also very rough, be careful, don't piss him off, you won't be able to sit with a bruised ass or the aching cunt or walk due to the shaking and sore legs. He knows how to make brats behave, loves you but don't piss him off.
♕ Hates it when other people stare, will go to a nearby room or maybe the balcony if he's extra mad and simply fuck you till you're screaming your throat raw with leaving hickeys and making sure everyone and especially the person is hearing and seeing the whole thing...Likes the eyes on him sometimes, don't know why but he does, maybe it gives him thrill maybe it gives him the chance to prove himself in some way maybe he gets gratification, no way. But likes the way when you're bent over and crying your eyes out.
♕ Cages your hand above your head with a single one of his own and simply fingers you before pulling away and edging you till you're asking him to properly fuck you dumb, even if he's feeling soft, he likes to do it cause you're crying face and whines and moans sound cut to him and he can never get enough of it
♕ Leaves a lot of bitemarks, hickeys, bruises, it's concerning if you don't know it's out of love and how much he can't control his strength at times..When he's about to cum, he bites your neck to muffle his own moans and whines when you're clenching down on him..One hand constantly working on your clit.
♕ Let's say they have some medicine which works as Plan B, cause keep in mind, he will be breeding you, it's one of his biggest kinks, he would love to see you pregnant with his baby who is your and his mix, Athy needs a sibling after all! Will be pounding in you even after you've gone enough, he cant help himself sometimes!
Tumblr media
Legis Adri Floyen
Tumblr media
◈ Now Legis would be a bit closed off, but still after a while be extremely sweet and romantic, constantly being a gentleman, holding your hand when you're walking down the stairs, gets you gifts, when you got tired, he carried you where you want, feeds you, kisses you and looks at you like you're gold.
◈ You and Jubelian have to sometimes remind him to take breaks, you and Jubelian and literally bestest of friends yet being the cutest mother-daughter duo in Legis's eyes, two of his favourite girls being together and happy and getting alone and all the cute stuff?! Oh man, he feels like he's in heaven!
◈ Loves to spend time with you and Juve when he can, bringing you both gifts and you both in return make tiny gifts for him, like bouquets or like maybe you stitched something for him on a napkin and he carried it everywhere, or maybe you and Juve went out together to choose and mix-match jewellery for Legis and then you both gift it to him, she is always so happy to spend time with her parents!
◈ He and you would spend time kissing and then Juve would be grossed out but finds it cute or maybe you and Legis would spend time sparring or sword-fighting cause women back then used to do a lot of sports including archery, sword-fighting, hiking, so maybe he would love for you to join him in sparring sometime or maybe hand-to-hand combat where you are always winning because he refuses to put in effort, he gets too mesmerised by you anyway.
◈ He would love to take you on trips to anywhere you want, get dresses custom made so no-one else can have them, have portraits painted of you, he's such a sweetheart!! He would love to have a family portrait with you and Juve beside him!!
◈ Another thing is, matching clothes!! You wear something matching in your outfits at ALL times, be it a brooch, be it the colour of the clothing, be it the way the pattern of the dress, he loves to match with you, he even has dresses which are carbon copies of some of Juve's! You both look gorgeous in them!!
◈ Kind of needs your reassurance that he is doing the correct thing, if there is something you don't like, please say cause when you do things passive and aggressively, it makes him overthink things....And if he overthinks, he cries and I'm sure you don't want your husband to cry? Yeah, that's what I thought, communicate!
Tumblr media
◈ Okay, first he finds you cute and adorable and hot and so squishable and he folds you like a chair fucking you in matching press with your thighs pressed against your chest while he toys with your cunt and clit so sweetly, it's almost innocent in a way!
◈ PRAISE!! Of-course, the biggest praise kink is in him, his eyes start to water from overwhelming love when he is praised during sex, so just to ground him, hold his hand tightly in yours in anyway you can to remind him you're both there..He gets carried away, poor baby..
◈ Loves to see you ride him, cause it's so cute in his eyes when you're trying your best to take him cause first of he's VERY BIG, secondly you try your best to take him, struggle with it, crying for him to do something to make something out of your fruitless ventures, of-course he teases you until you beg a lot, but because he likes your cries and tears and face
◈ Speaking of crying, he won't stop eating your cunt until tears are streaming down he's pulled a good few orgasms, your cunt is almost raw but i's still drooling...and he can't get enough, you're just sound so cute and taste so amazing, but okay, he'll take pity and fuck you properly, if you don't tell him to, he'll cum from just eating you out, grinding against whatever he can.
◈ Suck him off under his desk after he's overworked, probably one of the only dilfs who moans and whimpers and can't hide them, he sounds cute, as you gag on his cock, he sounds adorable!! Not your fault it's a good way to relax him from overworking and to just tease him!
◈ He sometimes gets so lot in making you cum, he does it for a good while until he simply pulls dry orgasms, until legs are shaking, you're both covered in bodily fluids, drools, sweat, clit is engorged a bit and it hurts but feels too good for him to pull out now as you wrap your legs around his waist to keep him close..
Tumblr media
Lante Agriche
Tumblr media
☠ Now for this request, I will say he's like a yandere-type in love with you and he's a bit sane and okay in head. Lante would always follow you around, carrying you when he can, holding you on his lap during those special dinners with his top three favourite kids as he fed you food with his hands, does your hair, albeit a bit haphazardly.
☠ He desperately needs you be locked down with him, he would kill anyone you pay too much attention to, that includes his kids, well your kids are his favourite kids, so he doesn't want you to be sad, but threatening them is the way to go!!
☠ likes to bring you the severed head of his victims as gifts with a deranged smile, expecting praise. I hope you give some to him for the sake of your neck joint...I mean, he'd also bring bloodied flowers, a skull, some sword, some jewel, etc, whatever he finds interesting all covered in blood cause he thinks you look hot in blood and everything looks better covered in blood.
☠ Leaves hickeys on your necks, for everyone and leaves more if you try to cover them. He has no shame, not like anyone would dare to say anything, but if they did, you'd have another severed head to your collection. So enjoy!!
☠ DESPISES people staring at you for a second too late, hates it, cannot stand it, will not stand for it, will kill someone for it. I mean, he's a man known for crimes, of-course he's gonna murder someone for looking at you too long! He's such a munchy weirdo..
☠ Would have your ring on your hand AT ALL TIMES, ain't no one snatching up his weirdo, hell naw! Anyways, he gets new rings made for you whenever you need one and it's all decorated well and stuff and so now you have a ring collection and it's very gorgeous and probably cost more than the whole manor and humans who die inside regularly!
☠ He slow dances with you over the dead bodies of people, enjoying the way their bones crunch under you both as you both softly danced while you both are in each other's embrace and are softly being intimate in silence..
Tumblr media
☠ Oh now, don't think that if he got jealous and mad at some public event he is also one to not care if he fucks you on a balcony when everyone can hear you both while you scream and wail like it's no one's business in the balcony and later on everyone's too shy to make eye contact with you, including the kids and other wives...
☠ Bending you over on his desk to fuck you all while there are people in the next room or simply eat you out until you cry, but eating you out is a unusual occurrence...He doesn't just give you pleasure without getting anything in return, no.
☠ Edging you constantly, not letting you cum until you beg hard enough or until he possibly can't take it anymore or until you do it yourself earning a punishment by him where either he overstimulates you till you physically pass out and only have dry orgasms, so there are a few options of him to choose from, maybe play the safe submissive and subservient role for a while unless you're confident in your skills as a dom to top him..
☠ knife kink, I said it. Knife kink, holds a knife to your neck while he makes you ride him, and presses it down sometimes to nick your body parts for fun and for the sadistic tendencies...
1K notes · View notes
deliciousangelfestival · 3 months ago
Text
He's A Killer
Tumblr media
Summary: She’s known among her family and friends for being single, and everyone worries about her. Determined to prove them wrong, she finally makes her first move, only to discover that the person she likes is dangerous.
The second part : He's The Sweetest
Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻
Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️
Tumblr media
The emergency room of St. Grace Medical Center buzzes with activity. Doctors and nurses move swiftly, handling patients with precision. Voices blur together in the chaos, and the sharp scent of antiseptic fills the air.
You're inside the medical storage room, scanning shelves for the supplies the doctor requested: syringes, tubes, and medication vials. Besides, you is Clara, your co-worker and friend, busy sorting through trays.
"I told you I had that family dinner, right?" you say, picking up a pack of syringes.
"Yeah, how was it?" Clara asks, not looking up from the tray she's organizing.
“Dreadful. Dreadful. Dreadful,” you reply, shaking your head in exasperation.
Clara glances at you, a smirk forming. "Wow, three times? That bad, huh?"
The memory flashes through your mind: Sunday, family dinner. You sit across from your aunts, who seem more interested in your love life than the meal.
"Your mom’s worried about you, you know," one of your aunts says between bites. "She didn't tell you because she's afraid of hurting your feelings," another aunt adds. "You’re already over 30; the clock is ticking." "My friend’s son works at the oil company. I could get his contact if you want. He’s a good catch."
Back in the storage room, Clara's voice breaks through your thoughts. "Well, you probably won’t like this, but your aunt’s kinda right. I mean, bestie, I’m only saying this because I care about you."
You hum, trying to keep your focus on entering patient data into the system. Clara means well, but the topic is starting to get old.
“Honey, you’re a great friend and an amazing co-worker. Everyone here relies on you because you’re so reliable. You know why?” Clara’s voice softens as she leans in. “Because you’re single. You don’t have someone waiting for you, or someone to hang out with on Saturdays and Sundays.”
You freeze for a moment, glancing up at her with raised eyebrows.
“Please, go out and talk to someone," she continues. "You've been single for way too long. You deserve some love, girl. It’s not like you need to get married right away.”
Clara shudders, as if the thought gives her chills. “No, not at all! Just, you know, make friends first?” She winks playfully before gathering a tray of supplies and heading out to assist the doctor.
Alone in the storage room, you sigh, leaning against the counter for a moment. Clara means well, but every time someone offers to introduce you to someone, it irks you. You know you’ve been single for a long time—your whole life, really—but it’s not that you don’t want a relationship.
It’s complicated.
You've seen too many relationships fall apart. Your parents, your aunts, your cousins—all their stories weigh on you. The cheating, the abuse, the constant reminders from your cousins: “Don’t get married.” It’s no wonder you’re hesitant.
But what stings the most is finding out your father, who you always thought was a devoted husband, had cheated on your mom. That betrayal shaped your fears. You don’t want to end up like her—trapped in a painful, one-sided marriage.
Part of you is scared of commitment, scared of getting hurt. But another part of you craves it—a real connection. The irony of it all is that the same aunts pushing you to settle down are stuck in abusive marriages themselves. It’s almost comedic, in a sad, twisted way.
You shake your head, pushing the thoughts aside as you gather the last of the supplies.
🐼🐼🐼🐼🐼
Working at ER felt like living in a whirlwind. You rarely went home, often staying for almost 24 hours at a time. The chaos of patients coming in with life-threatening injuries, doctors shouting orders, and the constant rush to save lives left you drained but fulfilled. When you finally had a day off, there was only one thing you looked forward to—visiting the zoo to see your favorite animal: the panda. 🐼
You’ve always had a soft spot for pandas. Something about their calm, slow movements and gentle nature soothed you. The baby panda, in particular, had become your little escape. Watching it tumble around, clumsily explore, or nibble on bamboo always brought you a sense of peace. You had its appearances memorized on your schedule since it wasn’t allowed out every day.
Today was one of those rare days off, and you made your way to the zoo, excited to see the baby panda. But when you arrived, the mood shifted. A zoo employee stood in front of the panda enclosure, addressing the crowd of disappointed families.
“Sorry folks, the panda viewing has been rescheduled. We have made an announcement on our social media last week—we worked on it all night, without sleep.”
You rolled your eyes at the comment. Without sleep? Try handling an ER at peak hours. Annoyed but resigned, you sighed and checked the next available viewing time. As the crowd started dispersing, one person caught your attention.
A tall man stood at the panda window, his broad shoulders slumped in disappointment. He sighed deeply before turning around. That’s when your eyes met. It wasn’t intentional, but the sudden connection caught you off guard. Quickly, you bowed your head and hurried away, feeling your cheeks warm from the brief moment.
The next day, you returned to the zoo, and this time, the baby panda was out. You joined the crowd, eager to see your favorite animal. The baby panda was as adorable as ever, tumbling clumsily around its habitat. You found yourself smiling, the sight of it immediately calming your busy mind. But as you glanced around, you saw him again—the tall man from yesterday. He was also watching the panda, just as captivated as the rest of the crowd.
The panda display ended too soon, and just as you were about to leave, the sky opened up and rain started pouring. The panda enclosure was far from the main entrance, and there was no shelter nearby. Luckily, you always carried an umbrella. As you received a message from the hospital calling you in for an emergency, you saw other visitors quickly opening their umbrellas and leaving one by one.
Soon, it was just you and the tall man left in the rain.
You noticed him glancing at his watch, pacing back and forth like he was debating whether to make a run for it. His indecision made you smile. He clearly wasn’t prepared for the weather. Without thinking much of it, you walked up to him, holding out your umbrella.
“Ehm,” you said, voice slightly raised over the sound of the rain. “Want to walk to the gate together?”
His eyes flicked to the umbrella in your hand before he gave you a small smile. “Thank you,” he said, stepping under it with you.
The walk was quiet, the sound of the rain drumming on the umbrella louder than any conversation you might have had. It should have felt awkward—after all, you were strangers—but the rain filled the silence. He stayed close to your side, even leaning a little toward you to make sure you weren’t getting wet. You noticed his left side was already damp, but he didn’t seem to care. Is he a gentleman? you wondered as you both continued walking.
When you finally reached the entrance, you closed your umbrella. The man pointed toward the parking lot. “My car’s pretty far,” he said, glancing toward the rain-soaked lot.
“I’ve got to go too,” you replied, showing him your phone. “I booked a car from the app. It should be here soon.”
He nodded, still standing close. You hesitated for a moment, then held out the umbrella to him. “Here. Take this. It’s better than running through the rain.”
He blinked in surprise, looking down at the umbrella. “How do I return this to you?”
You smiled, shrugging lightly. “It’s alright. I have more. But… if you really want to return it, you can find me at the hospital E.R. St. Grace Medical Center.”
His lips curled into a small smile, a flash of warmth in his eyes. “Alright then, the hospital. I’ll remember that.”
Before he could say anything more, your car pulled up. You gave him one last smile, ducking into the back seat, and as you drove off, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d see him again.
🐼🐼🐼🐼
The night shift at St. Grace Medical Center had just begun, but unlike most nights, the ER was unusually quiet. A handful of patients sat in the waiting area, the usual chaos replaced by a lull. The soft beeping of monitors filled the air, interrupted occasionally by the rustle of paperwork or a distant cough.
Clara, your ever-observant co-worker, stood beside you, arms crossed, her brow raised in curiosity. "You look different tonight. What’s going on?" She tilted her head, smirking slightly.
You paused, your lips twitching into a small smile. "Well… I met this guy when I went to see my favorite panda."
Clara’s smirk grew wide. “Ah, the fluffy black and white mammals. So, what makes this guy more special than your favorite animal?”
You were about to answer when a loud commotion broke out near the entrance. A drunk patient stumbled through the doors, yelling incoherently, bumping into chairs, and causing a scene.
“Perfect timing,” you muttered under your breath.
Clara groaned. "Here we go."
You both rushed over to try and calm him down. He was clearly in no state to be reasoned with, slurring his words and swaying dangerously as he tried to grab hold of another patient’s wheelchair.
“Sir, you need to sit down,” you said, holding up your hands in a calming gesture.
The man blinked at you, confused, then suddenly lunged forward, trying to grab your arm. Panic surged through you, but before he could make contact, a firm hand caught the drunk man's wrist.
"That's enough," a deep voice said from behind you.
You turned around, startled to see him—the man from the zoo. The one who borrowed your umbrella. He stood tall, his grip firm but not aggressive as he guided the drunk man back into a chair. The drunk patient, surprised by the sudden interference, mumbled something incoherent but didn’t resist.
Relief washed over you, and you let out a shaky breath. “Thanks. That could’ve gotten ugly.”
He gave you a soft smile. “It’s quiet here,” he said casually.
You quickly shook your head, eyes widening. “Don’t say that! You’ll jinx it.”
He chuckled at your reaction, then glanced down at your name tag. “Y/N, huh? Nice to meet you. I’m James Barnes, but most people call me Bucky.”
You blinked, feeling the warmth of his smile seep into you. "Nice to meet you too… Bucky."
He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a familiar item—your umbrella. “Sorry I’m late returning this. Thanks again for letting me borrow it.”
You grinned, feeling a bit of your usual humor return. “Hey, as panda lovers, we have to help each other out, right?”
As soon as the words left your mouth, you wanted to dig a hole and hide in it. Did I really just say that?
To your surprise, Bucky laughed—a genuine, warm sound. “You’re right. We do.” Then, as if to return the favor for your kindness, he pulled a folded piece of paper from his jacket pocket. “Actually, I have something for you.”
You furrowed your brows, confused, until you unfolded the paper. Your eyes widened in disbelief—it was a VIP ticket for a face-to-face panda experience, something you had only dreamed about.
“What? How did you get this?” you asked, astonished.
Bucky smiled, a little mischievously. “I’ve got some connections.”
Before you could fully process what had just happened, Bucky waved and left the hospital. As soon as he was out of sight, Clara whistled softly behind you.
“Well, well, well,” she teased, her tone dripping with amusement. “Is someone making panda dates now?”
You rolled your eyes, though a blush crept up your cheeks. "It’s not like that, Clara."
“Mm-hmm,” she hummed, her eyes twinkling. “I’m sure it’s all innocent.”
The next day, you found yourself back at the zoo, clutching your VIP ticket nervously. And there he was again—Bucky, standing near the entrance, waiting for you.
“Hey,” he greeted you with that same easy smile.
“Hey,” you replied, feeling the familiar flutter in your chest. The two of you walked together into the building, and soon, the moment you'd been waiting for arrived: you were face to face with the baby panda.
Both of you were silent as the tiny creature waddled toward you. The panda was as adorable as you had imagined, its soft fur and curious little eyes making your heart melt. Bucky stood next to you, just as captivated. When the panda let out a small squeak, you both exchanged a glance, wide-eyed, before grinning like kids.
As you held the baby panda for a brief moment, you felt all the exhaustion from your long shifts melt away. It was like a small pocket of happiness you hadn’t realized you needed. You could hear Bucky chuckling softly beside you, clearly sharing the same sentiment.
“Why pandas?” he asked softly after a while, turning to look at you.
You shrugged, smiling. “They’re just… calming. Whenever I’m tired from the hospital or life, looking at them helps. It’s like all the stress just melts away.”
Bucky nodded thoughtfully, his gaze still on the baby panda. “I get it. My job is… well, it’s tiring. Dangerous too. But seeing animals like this, being cuddled, living peacefully—it helps. Makes me feel like there’s still good out there.”
You glanced at him curiously, sensing there was more he wasn’t saying. “Sounds like a tough job,” you said carefully.
Bucky smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah… it can be.”
It's his turn to hold and cuddle the baby panda, and the sight is nothing short of heartwarming. The little creature, with its round face and soft, fuzzy coat, snuggles into his arms as he cradles it gently. Bucky’s eyes light up with a mix of joy and awe, his broad smile breaking through his usually composed demeanor. He chuckles softly, a sound that resonates with warmth, as the panda nuzzles against his chest, completely at ease.
There’s a brief pause, the kind that feels heavy with something unsaid, as he shifts his gaze from the panda to you. The moment stretches out, filled with unspoken tension.
Then, suddenly, he turns toward you, a hint of awkwardness creeping into his expression. “You know… if you’re not busy sometime, maybe we could grab a coffee? Or dinner, maybe?” His cheeks flush slightly, as if he’s unsure how his invitation will be received, but the sincerity in his eyes reveals his hopefulness.
Your heart skipped a beat. His voice was casual, but there was a hint of nervousness behind it, which made it all the more endearing.
You smiled, warmth blooming in your chest. “I’d like that.”
His face lit up, the awkward tension lifting. “Great,” he said, looking almost relieved. “I’ll, uh, message you then?”
“Yeah,” you replied, feeling the beginnings of a connection you hadn’t expected. “I’d like that a lot.”
🐼🐼🐼🐼
Your relationship with Bucky started innocently enough, bonding over your shared love for pandas and animals. What began as casual conversations about your common interests slowly grew deeper. The two of you spent more time together, texting throughout the day, meeting for coffee, or watching movies late into the night. It wasn’t long before you started spending nights at each other’s places. The closeness felt natural, and his easygoing demeanor made you feel safe.
Clara, of course, couldn’t resist teasing you about it. One evening during a shift, she shot you a knowing look. “You know,” she began with a smirk, “you should introduce him to your family. I bet his shadow alone could shut them up.”
You laughed, rolling your eyes. "One step at a time, Clara. I don't want him to run away after meeting my family."
Over time, your relationship with Bucky deepened, and intimacy followed. You spent nights at his apartment, and he did the same at yours. The affection between you two was comfortable and warm. Bucky worked as a contractor, which sometimes took him out of town for a while. That’s why, one day, he handed you the key to his apartment with a smile.
“Keep it,” he said. “Just in case you need to check on Alpine.”
Alpine was his cat, a fluffy white ball of fur who quickly won your heart. You adored her, and it was easy to see why Bucky did too.
One day, on your day off, you decided to spend the afternoon at Bucky’s place. It was quiet and cozy, perfect for unwinding after a long week. His salary as a contractor must be high enough that he can afford this house.
Alpine was curled up on your lap as you sat on the couch, absentmindedly stroking her soft fur. The gentle purrs coming from her were soothing.
Suddenly, Alpine’s ears perked up, and before you knew it, she jumped from your lap and padded over to the bookshelf. You watched curiously as she stretched her paws toward one of the shelves.
“What are you up to, little one?” you murmured, getting up to see what had caught her attention. As you reached out to move a book, you heard a soft click. Before you could react, the bookshelf started to shift, revealing a hidden door.
Your heart raced as you hesitated for a moment, but when Alpine darted through the opening, you knew you couldn’t just leave her. Steeling your nerves, you stepped inside.
The room you entered was nothing like the cozy, homey apartment you knew. Your breath caught in your throat as you took in the scene before you. Guns lined the walls, various types of explosives were neatly arranged on shelves, and papers filled with detailed information were pinned to a whiteboard. It looked like something straight out of a spy movie—except it wasn’t a movie. It was real.
“When I finally make a move, turns out the man I like is a killer,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly as you picked up Alpine and quickly backed out of the room. You closed the secret door, your mind racing.
What do I do now?
You paced back and forth in the living room, your heart pounding in your chest. Your thoughts spiraled as you tried to process what you had just seen. Finally, in a panic, you grabbed your phone and dialed Clara.
After a couple of rings, her voice came through, light and cheery. “Yo, girls, what’s up?”
You swallowed hard, still clutching Alpine close to you. “Clara…”
“Yeah?” Her tone shifted slightly, sensing something was off.
You whispered into the phone, your voice shaky as you held Alpine close to your chest, “I think my boyfriend is a hitman."
Tumblr media
Taglist:
@thezombieprostitute
@scott-loki-barnes
@mostlymarvelgirl
@missvelvetsstuff
Extras:
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
617 notes · View notes
yolli-es · 3 months ago
Note
Hi! This is my first request also i love your writing so much! I've been looking everywhere for a nsfw alphabet headcanons for jinx there isn't any can you please make one i don.t think anyone understand or describe her the way you do
Also don't push yourself!
NSFW Jinx alphabet🔥
Tumblr media
Tags: NO spoilers for season 2
I did!! It was an interesting experience for me and thanks for the kind words. In fact, I have a problem with understanding the characters and it is very nice to hear this 😅
PERSON WHO ASKED SOMETHING SIMILAR: Are you still waiting for an answer to your request? Most likely, I will write the same thing 👉🏻👈🏻 You can also answer anonymously.
Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Jinx spends most of her time proving her love for you. Sex is no exception. It's just another of the many ways to say: "I don't just love you; I obsessed you." That's why, in the moments after intimacy, Jinx finally calms down. She just spent all her energy on pleasing you and got it in return. There is no better confirmation of your feelings for her right now. You can just look at each other; she won't rush at you to touch you like she would at any other moment.
Don't worry, she'll do it later.
Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Choose and Jinx are not compatible. She will never tell you what she likes most about you; it's too complicated. Hands, neck, legs, hair, belly, and absolutely everything will be honored with attention from Jinx before and after sex. She also sincerely does not understand why others choose a favorite part of their beloved if they can fuck all parts?
It's much easier for her to say what she doesn't like about herself. Her breasts are her main complex, and if you say something like "I like big breasts,"  "my exes had huge breasts," or simply "between big and small, I'll choose big," expect a bunch of strange decisions from Jinx to hide her "flaw."
Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
She will never think twice before cumming. Jinx doesn't care where, how, or where she does it. If you like it when she does it in certain places, she will remember and will definitely do it... However, if you don't like it when she cums somewhere, then... accept it; she will simply forget about it until you throw a real tantrum and you won't start threatening her.
Jinx has trouble remembering "no" and is great at focusing on "yes."
Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Jinx has a strange turn on when playing with her guns. She has imagined you saddle her with a gun in your hand more than once. She finds it oddly arousing to think about the possibility of a purely accidental death or injury while you're so close. The possibility of being blown up is also close to her.
But all of this will remain a fantasy. You are unlikely to agree to point a gun at her, which Jinx is well aware of. Besides, it's too dangerous for you. What if you go crazy and shoot yourself in the foot?
Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
You are her number one in everything, and she will do anything just to keep you from finding out. Jinx thinks that her lack of experience will make her a terrible partner in your eyes—a bad choice, and you will absolutely never fuck her. You will definitely understand that she is inexperienced when Jinx cannot pull off your bra. She has never worn one, and I swear she was ready to burst into tears at that moment.
After a couple of "training sessions," Jinx becomes the best lover possible. She learns quickly and does exactly what you want her to do because of her excellent understanding of people and her huge intellect.
Favorite position (this goes without saying)
She likes everything as long as you touch her. Jinx won't mind hanging upside down if it means constant physical contact.
Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Until Jinx gained enough (by her standards) experience, she took any joke in bed personally. Don't joke with her in the beginning; it might trigger voices in her head.
Later, when her skills allowed her to make mush out of you, Jinx began to like sudden stupid phrases. Especially while you were riding her. Jinx is not very goofy, but she starts to enjoy breaking your serious mood with the stupidest joke. You can start so hot and continue so intensely, but at some point Jinx will whisper in your ear: "What do you call a person who runs away from a cannibal? Fast food"
She lost a couple of orgasms, but you laughed! It's a small loss for a great cause.
Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Jinx's hair is really long, and I believe that her pubic hair was just as long. Okay, not that long. But Jinx has definitely never shaved. One day she got the idea to paint them green, but she got a minor chemical burn, and now she is afraid and ashamed to do anything with them.
You can ask her to shave, and then do it yourself, because she will definitely cut off a piece of herself without help.
Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Jinx is focused on your feelings and simply adapts to them. If you want it hot and fast, she will do it; if you want it slow and gentle, she will do it. You don't even have to ask. And believe me, she will like it. Jinx will definitely not deprive herself of pleasure; she can just enjoy any interaction as long as you are delighted.
Jinx herself doesn't put much meaning into sex; there is no special romance in it that she could not achieve without getting into your pants. After all, she grew up in a city where they make a living from it.
Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Jinx did this a couple of times as a teenager, mostly out of curiosity. Mylo ruins her mood every time, and it never worked.
After her first orgasm with you, she tried to repeat something similar on her own. She missed your hands, your breath, and your giggles. She couldn't cum.
Jinx will quickly stop doing it.
Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Jinx is obsessed with you. She spends most of her time expressing her gratitude to you for all the good things you give her.
And she loves you even more when you do the same.
It's okay if you get cruel and a little over the top at this point; Jynx will still love it. She will never feel as loved and needed as when you are completely obsessed with her. Sincerely, not when she asks you to. Bite her to mark her, dominate her, and constantly whisper: "You are mine, and that will never change." Oh, she will cum so hard.
Location (favorite places to do the do)
On the table in her workshop. Jinx will also call you her project or her favorite gun.
Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
When you take the initiative. Any touch to her with a subtext will be met with active actions. She feels your mood well.
Jinx will also try to tease you if she feels like you've been too cold towards her lately. She firmly believes that this is a radical way to love and will definitely remind you of her devotion.
No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Want to pick a fight with Jinx? Ask her for group sex.
Jinx won't share with you. Forget about a threesome.
Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Jinx will always be the first to initiate oral sex. She enjoys it while she's doing it and goes crazy when she's receiving it. It's her favorite. She's also damn good at it; oral wasn't bad even the very first time.
It must just be a talent—another one in Jinx's stack.
Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
The one you need. She won't be too shy about being rude to you if you moan louder and rub against her more actively.
Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Jinx herself is very active, and her life is quite eventful. And yet this does not mean that she is a fan of it.
Usually you have quick sex just because you want it; Jinx prefers to wait for the moment when it will be possible to do everything she wants. Bite, rub, look, and lick, enjoying the moment, not just to stop the itching.
Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Experiments? Yes. Risk? Never.
You will try everything; Jinx is a searching nature. She will definitely tie you up, spank you, not let you cum, and try different toys on you. You will go through all this together and more than once.
But Jinx would never risk the safety of your pussy. To do so much for your safety, only to be able to lose you so stupidly? No, never.
And no threesomes either.
Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Jinx runs around Zaun with three guns and a bunch of bullets. She's incredibly resilient. You'll sweat more with her than you would on a Silko or Sevika mission. She won't leave you alone until she feels satisfied. Just when you feel like you're getting used to long sex sessions, she finds a way to knock you off your feet again. You tried to wear her out by having Jinx lift you.
Fatal mistake, terrible decision. That's why Jinx is a genius in your little family.
Her body got used to your weight pretty quickly and only strengthened her, making your sex not only long and exhausting, but also a little more difficult for you.
Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Jinx only uses them when she thinks you're getting bored in sex. Jinx will also definitely make a couple of sex toys, more for the sake of interest than sexual desire. She won't use it on her own, but how can she deny you the pleasure of torturing her a little with a toy? She'll definitely enjoy it too much, and control of the situation will pass into her hands as quickly as it left. 
Unfair (how much they like to tease)
For Jinx, teasing = prelude. She won't start until she realizes how hard you're want to coming. Sometimes it can go on too long, and you'll be hysterical and start crying. Jinx didn't want that; she just got carried away, so she'll definitely pay for it tenfold.
Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Scream or she will make you.
Your moans and screams are the only way to show others that you adore her without endangering the lives of others. It's also a great way to relieve stress.
Jinx will definitely enjoy it; don't hold back.
Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
One time you accidentally called her by her real name in the midst of oral sex. She immediately stopped and just looked at you for a few seconds before she started crying. You didn't finish that time.
"Powder" has become your stop word.
X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
5.25 feet of slender body, long fingers, and a nimble tongue. There's a lot to work with.
Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Jinx has a low libido, and before meeting you, sex was not a concern to her. Even as a teenager, when hormones were raging, Jinx remained indifferent to intimacy. Now, you can excite her with just a hint. A light touch, a piquant pose, or an ambiguous phrase will make Jinx immediately become active.
Other people doing similar things irritate her.
Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
After sex, Jinx will lie next to you, just watching. She will be strangely silent and soothingly sweet. Very soon it will stop stressing you out and make you calm down. She will not close her eyes until she is sure that you have fallen asleep. This will last for a couple more hours before she can fall asleep.
Jinx always had trouble sleeping, but when she's next to you, her problem disappears.
Tumblr media
I hope the topic of sex is covered and I didn't miss anything 🙏🏻🙏🏻
364 notes · View notes
miscellaneouzz · 1 month ago
Text
More Vox Machina meta time bc I feel like people do NOT talk enough about how complex Pike and Scanlan’s relationship is. First off the show is very good at steering away from the typical he’s-annoying-so-she-eventually-gives-in misogynistic approach a lot of those types of dynamics have. Like it initially comes off as just cute and flirtatious until their dynamic ironically becomes the least romantically driven of the main ships in a way that’s far more layered than I expected. It always feels like Pike’s complicated feelings come with observing Scanlan from a distance, she’ll flirt back and play along but ultimately wants to see the person he COULD be, the more sincere and earnest side to him (which can also be tied to Zerxus’ comment about her taking pride in “redeeming” her friends).
Tumblr media Tumblr media
But then from Scanlan’s perspective, becoming the person he “could” be means distancing himself from Pike completely, because he’s in love with her and in his mind he sees that as an example of him clinging to his old habits of “finding all the wrong ways” to fill his emptiness. His scene with her on the balcony felt like such a culmination of both their complicated feelings– him relying on those coping mechanisms and Pike recognizing that– and I think that’s part of why he cried and why Pike pulled away at the last second. After that scene, we pretty much see Scanlan stop pursuing romantic interest in Pike for the rest of the season, but she’s still the only person he’ll be vulnerable with.
So then comes this heartbreaking irony that Pike’s been wanting more sincerity from Scanlan for a while now, only for Scanlan finally opening up more about his feelings to include him saying things that end up hurting and pushing away Pike. Because now Scanlan being more vulnerable and sincere means finally admitting he doesn’t view Vox Machina as his “real” family and that he never thought he mattered when he was with them and I don’t think that’s something Pike was truly ready for. And in the end Scanlan is still defining his worth purely on his relationships with others– if he’s no longer pouring his identity into romance/sex, he’s gotta pour it all into his newfound parenthood. He’s still flawed and not in a way where everything just hinges on Pike to “fix” him.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I think when it comes to the romantic relationships in the series it’s the one I’m most invested in from a character perspective. They’re the only pairing that’s yet to sincerely confess or discuss feelings for each other despite how much their relationship focuses on the need for sincerity and it’s so interesting. Like through the relationship struggles of Keyleth x Vax and Percy x Vex, we still see them be more open and upfront with both the conflicts and resolutions of their feelings for each other.
Tumblr media
Pike & Scanlan are the only ship we’ve seen neither for, neither a straightforward conversation on the conflict of their relationship itself nor a sincere resolution to their feelings. And I think it has a lot to do with the parallel you can make about their own crisis of identity. Their character motivations and struggles with identity are not entirely dependent on each other as Scanlan has a tumultuous relationship with parenthood and Pike with her faith yet they impact each other so deeply.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
There’s a lot more to say BUT for now… onto whatever season 4 brings for the gnomes!
251 notes · View notes
aquamarixx · 2 months ago
Text
breaking the internet
Tumblr media
blue lock longfic series pairing hiori yo x reader contains slow slow slow burn, post blue lock timeskip, afab!reader, angst, fluff
Tumblr media
SYNOPSIS
Hiori Yo may be one of Bastard München’s most technically gifted players, but he’s hardly the most popular. Stoic, soft-spoken, and an unapologetic introvert, Hiori’s tactical and supportive play style tends to get overshadowed by his flashier, extroverted teammates. Fame was never his goal—until, unexpectedly, it finds him.
When a mid-season slump raises doubts about the team’s future, an insightful article by an up-and-coming sports journalist shines a new light on his understated brilliance and strategic approach. Her piece goes viral, drawing fresh interest in both the team and Hiori, and challenges the flashy “egoist” narrative with a deeper look at his impact.
As her articles captivate fans and bring unexpected attention to Hiori, their interactions both on and off the field spark a fan-fueled fascination. Their chemistry is undeniable, to say the least, and Bastard München’s marketing team jumps on the opportunity of pairing them in official content. 
What begins as a mere marketing tactic quickly becomes more personal. As their chemistry continues to captivate fans, Hiori finds it harder and harder to ignore the person who believed in him before anyone else did. He wants her to keep watching him, to see the player he’s becoming — and for the first time, he doesn’t mind the attention.
And maybe, just maybe, he’s not the only one getting caught up in the unexpected connection under the eyes of the world who’s watching, waiting and hoping for something more.
Tumblr media
CHAPTER LIST (ongoing)
chapter one (1.6k words) after Bastard München's third loss, Hiori Yo finds a spark of hope in a warm, unexpected article by a cute keen-eyed journalist
chapter two (2.6k words) Hiori discovers Miss Journalist might be a loyal fan of his — and learns the hard way that stalking someone on Winstagram can quickly get complicated.
chapter three part 1 Miss Journalist follows the day-in-the-life of Bastard München for the midseason promos, unexpectedly bringing her closer to Hiori in ways she didn’t anticipate.
chapter three part 2 after one video and a candid photo, Miss Journalist and Hiori go viral as their chemistry together off-camera stirs up unexpected fan attention, leaving them both wondering what’s next.
chapter four (5.3k words) a whirlwind of chaos and laughter turns into something much more when Miss Journalist and Hiori Yo can't ignore the spark between them any longer.
chapter five (4.1K words) a win turns bittersweet for Hiori when the person he wants to share it with the most seems just out of reach—as he sees Miss Journalist running towards someone else.
chapter six (5.1k words) a series of misunderstanding and lack of communication finally leads Hiori and Miss Journalist to talk, once and for all.
chapter seven (4.9k words) Hiori and Miss Journalist share more than just a passionate night, opening up about their relationship and the uncertain future that lies ahead.
chapter eight
chapter nine
chapter ten
Tumblr media
author's notes: i have hiori yo brainrot for weeks now. and i just have to get this out of my system because i fear for the lack of hiori fanfics for my himejoshis out there (if there are any huhu) it is a very lengthy synopsis so bear with me, it's my first time writing a fanfic will update the chapter list as soon as i have the energy to finish it
289 notes · View notes
batmanisagatewaydrug · 11 days ago
Note
hi sex witch!
i've got a question about sexual education that i'm hoping you can give insight to.
my wife and i have a 6 year old daughter, and are expecting our second in a few months. now that my wife is showing, our daughter is starting to ask questions about pregnancy, what it means, how it happens, all that good stuff. i've tried googling how to explain sex, pregnancy, birth, etc to kids but many websites are more aimed at redirecting the conversation or using very 'kiddy' language.
basically, my question is this: how can i explain the basics of what pregnancy is, how it happens, what happens during/after, etc to a child this young in a way that is age appropriate but... scientific, i suppose? is there such a thing as teaching them too young?
sincerely,
a very bemused father
hi bemused father,
good for you for not wanting to bullshit your kid about this!
in regards to your question about whether or not you can teach this to a kid too young: in my opinion, no. obviously you need to take into account, you know, what information is relevant and digestible for a kid depending on their age, and recognize that there's not a need to explain the entire spectrum of human sexual desire to a six year old who's just curious about why the fuck a baby is happening in there, but I think you already knew that!
for whatever it's worth, I was younger than your daughter when my mother had her second child, and not only did getting The Talk not traumatize me, I barely even remember it happening. as I've learned in my own experiences teaching kids all about sex ed, they have a GREAT capacity to keep the stuff that's interesting to them (for example, sperm + egg = baby) and filter out the stiff that's not relevant (in most cases, literally every other part of sex).
all of which is to say: you can just tell her how pregnancy happens. I really, really believe the best way to go is always just telling kids the truth at whatever level is chill with them. if the baby was conceived the old fashioned penis-in-vagina way, it's okay to present the no-frills version of that: when people want to make a baby, a person with a penis can put the penis inside of another person's vagina. the person with a penis can leave sperm that will find an egg, and when the egg and the sperm find each other they'll mix together parts of each parent to make a brand new baby. if your baby was conceived in a slightly more complicated way, it's great to build on the lesson about sperm and eggs with some information about how doctors sometimes need to help become parents, or the kindness of sperm donors who help people make their families bigger.
all of this can be daunting to approach on your own, especially without practice, so if you want some help I recommend the book It's So Amazing by Robie Harris and Tell Me About Sex, Grandma by Anastasia Higginbotham, the latter of which will be especially helpful if your kiddo has curiosity and follow up questions about sex beyond its role as something that makes pregnancy happen.
it can be overwhelming for parents when a young child starts asking questions about sexuality, but try to remember to be positive and encouraging about her curiosity even if you don't have an answer off the top of your head! "that's a great question! I don't know the answer either, let me do some learning and I'll tell you what I find" or "that's a good question, how about I find a book and we can read about it together?" can be great ways to buy yourself a little time if you're caught off guard by a question (and it also models for your kiddo that adults don't know everything and that that's okay to acknowledge). it's much more important to make sure she doesn't feel ashamed of wanting to learn than to know all of the right answers immediately!
and remember that if you ever hit a wall and don't know how to proceed, your friendly local sex witch has got you :)
150 notes · View notes
meazalykov · 3 months ago
Text
nationality switch
esmee brugts x uswnt!dutch!reader
summary: choosing a national team almost made you drift away from the person you love most
warnings: angst
Tumblr media
it’s been a long time since you’ve seen esmee, since that fight—since everything changed. 
you’re sitting in the corner of a cozy café in barcelona, sipping your iced coffee, lost in your thoughts about how things used to be. the only noise around you is the coffee machines brewing or the ovens beeping in the background of your thoughts.
you never expected to see her today. you thought she moved to arsenal in london. a club that she mentioned her interest in. but then again, nothing with esmee ever goes as planned.
the bell above the café door chimes, and you look over at the door on instinct. when you see her, your stomach flips. is that her? you had to do a double take.
it is esmee. her eyes lock on yours instantly, and for a second, it’s like no time has passed. the familiarity, the memories, all come rushing back. you miss her, but the weight of your last conversation—the fight—hangs heavily between you both.
you don’t move. you don’t know if you should, and maybe she doesn’t either, because she hesitates before walking over. you freeze before you see her stop at the counter.
you took a deep breath before she gets her flat white and walks over.
when she finally reaches your table, you see that same spark in her eyes, but there’s something else now. something different.
“hey,” she says, her voice soft, almost tentative, as if she’s afraid of how you’ll respond.
you raise an eyebrow, trying to keep things light. 
“esmee, how did you even find me?”
she offers a small smile, a little suspicious. 
“we never turned off each other’s locations on our phones.”
that breaks the tension for a moment, and you can’t help but laugh. 
it’s such a typical esmee thing to say. well for you, as someone who is the closest to her. she never fails to make a heavy moment become lighter. you shake your head at the absurdity of it all. 
“of course.”
she sits down across from you at the wooden table, and suddenly, the reality of everything hits. you’re both here in barcelona. after all this time, all the distance, somehow, fate—or maybe something else—has pulled you back together. 
it feels like you’re supposed to be here, like you were always meant to end up on the same team again. it hasn't been too long since you were both at psv. your contracts ended at the same time and you had a bad feeling that it would've been your last time together.
it wasn't.
“so…” esmee starts, her fingers fiddling with the edge of the napkin in front of her. “i heard the news.”
you nod slowly. “yeah. barca. i guess it was inevitable, huh?”
“inevitable,” she echoes, her gaze dropping to the table before lifting back to meet yours. 
“we were always supposed to end up here together, it was our dream.”
the silence stretches between you both, and it’s not uncomfortable, but it’s heavy. there’s so much unsaid, and you know it. she knows it. 
the past months have been complicated. after the women’s world cup, after that game against the netherlands where you scored that header, after you told her that you weren't going to represent the netherlands on the senior level, things between you two were…different.
“you were mad,” you say softly, cutting through the silence.
her eyes darken slightly, and she nods, not bothering to deny it. “yeah, i was.”
“because I celebrated my goal?”
“because it felt like you were celebrating more than just a goal,” she admits. 
“it felt like you were celebrating the fact that you chose them over us. over me.”
throwback to july 26th, 2023
it’s the 62nd minute, and the game between the u.s and the netherlands is 0-1. the tension is suffocating—this isn’t just any group stage match. 
it’s a battle between two teams who were in the finals of the last world cup. the netherlands want revenge.
for you, it’s personal. you are dutch and american. your mother was born and raised in eindhoven, while your dad is an american who studied there then met your mother.
while growing up, you considered yourself to be dutch. you never lived in the united states. however, you've wondered what it was like to live over there.
at the age of 8 you met your bestfriend, esmee, at a soccer club. the both of you grew up, joined psv together, and played for the dutch youth teams together.
when your father expressed how he wanted you to chose the uswnt when you reached the senior level, you didn't count him out. the team was the best in the world.
the 2019 world cup solidified your decision to represent your father's side of the family. however, sometimes you think about the other world where you chose the dutch team instead of the americans.
you jog back to your position for a corner kick being taken by rose lavelle, feeling the weight of the moment settle on your shoulders. 
your heart pounds in your chest, and as you glance toward the dutch goal, your eyes flicker briefly to the orange clad figure on the left. esmee. 
she’s looks at you briefly, her expression unreadable. for a split second, it’s like time slows down. you remember the late nights practicing at psv, the laughter, the way she used to tell you that you’d both dominate the world together one day.
now, you’re on opposing sides, thanks to you choosing your other nationality.
the whistle blows. you snap back to the present, focusing on the corner being taken. 
the ball soars through the air, heading toward the front post. you leap, eyes locked on the ball, and your timing is perfect. you rise above the defenders, connecting with the ball in a powerful header that rockets past the dutch goalkeeper.
goal!
for a moment, the world stops. then the noise of the crowd hits you like a wave, and you’re running, arms outstretched in celebration. your teammates swarm around you, shouting, grabbing your jersey, jumping on your back. 
you can hear julie yelling for you and lindsey clapping you on the back with a proud grin. it’s chaos—pure joy, adrenaline, and pride.
but as you slow down, turning back toward midfield, your eyes find esmee again. 
she’s standing there, watching, her expression unreadable at first. in the moment that you look away before turning back, you see it: the hurt. the disbelief. you know it’s not just about the goal. it’s about everything else.
you swallow the lump forming in your throat and try to focus on your teammates still celebrating around you, but esmee’s look is burned into your mind. 
she goes back on the left-back then stands, her hands clenched into fists by her sides, it looks as if she’s frozen. you see her teammates—players you grew up with on youth teams—pat her on the back, but it’s clear she’s not hearing them.
it’s the celebration that did it. you know it. the way you threw your fists in the air, the way you smiled at your teammates like this goal was everything. 
to esmee, it wasn’t just a goal against the netherlands. it was a statement, a reminder that you chose the united states over the netherlands, over her.
as the game resumes, you push the thought to the back of your mind. you have to stay focused. there’s still time left, and the dutch team isn’t going to back down easily. but every time you glance in esmee’s direction, it stings. 
you see the frustration in her movements, the way she presses forward with even more intensity than before. she’s angry—at you, at the situation—and it shows.
the game ends and its tied. the rest of her team is exhausted, but she doesn’t even wait for the usual post-match handshakes and shirt swaps. she walks straight down the tunnel, disappearing from view, and a pit forms in your stomach.
you want to go after her, explain that the celebration wasn’t meant to hurt her. but deep down, you know this moment has been building for a long time. 
the decision to play for the united states on the senior level, the arguments, the silence between you two—it’s all led to this. 
in the locker room, your teammates are quiet, they’re focused on the next match. 
your thoughts are stuck on esmee. you stare down at your phone, wondering if you should text her, try to explain. but what could you say? what could make this better?
back to the barcelona cafe, a month later
you blink, taken aback by the raw honesty in her words. 
you’ve had months to think about it—about what it meant when you chose to play for the uswnt, about how your dad had always pushed you to follow in his footsteps. but you didn’t think esmee would take it this personally.
“esmee, it wasn’t about that,” you say, voice soft, almost pleading.
“you know it wasn’t like that.”
it was your first goal for the national team. it happened to be against your other country, the other country that wanted you to play for them too. 
your mother is dutch, and your father is american– so you had a tough decision to make.
esmee shakes her head, and for a moment, you think she’s going to argue. but then she sighs, leaning back in her chair. 
“i know. but it hurt. i wanted you to play with me and for the oranje. i wanted us to play together, like we always did in eindhoven. and then, when you celebrated after that goal…it felt like you’d forgotten everything we’d had.”
“i didn’t forget. i could never forget,” you say, and it’s the truth. you haven’t forgotten a single moment. 
“but esmee, you know how much my dad wanted this for me.” 
“i know,” she whispers, and there’s pain in her voice. 
“but i wanted you to want the same things i did. i wanted you to choose me.”
her words hit you hard, and for a second, you can’t respond. this is about more than just football, more than just a decision you had to make when choosing a national team. 
it’s about the two of you—about what you’ve meant to each other all these years.
“esmee,” you start, leaning forward, trying to make her understand. “it wasn’t about choosing them over you. you mean everything to me. i-i didn’t even realize—”
“that’s the thing,” she interrupts, her voice trembling slightly. 
“i was upset because i always want to be around you. it was selfish, maybe, but it’s the truth. i thought…i thought i was going to lose you when you chose them. what if you didn’t choose to come to barcelona? what if i didn’t? we wouldn’t see each other anymore..”
you frown, confused. “esmee, you’re never going to lose me. what are you talking about?”
she bites her lip, her eyes searching yours, and suddenly, it’s like all the walls she’s built up come crashing down. her hands stop gripping on her coffe cup and goes to gently hold your right hand instead. 
you froze.
“i’m talking about how i feel about you,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper. 
you feel your heart skip a beat, and for some reason, her confession doesn’t surprise you. 
it’s like you always knew, like a part of you had been waiting for her to say it out loud. she’s been your best friend for years, but deep down, maybe you always knew there was something more.
the left-back never made her crush on you a hidden secret. she was never outright, but her actions towards you spoke for itself. 
“es…” you start, but you don’t know what to say. so instead, you reach across the table, gently taking your other hand and holding hers.
she looks at you, her eyes wide and vulnerable, like she’s terrified of what you’ll say next.
“i like you too,” you say softly, your thumb brushing over the back of her hand. 
“i think i always have.”
her eyes widen even more, but there’s a soft smile playing on her lips now. 
“really?”
you nod, giving her a small smile in return. “yeah. really.”
you stand up slowly, moving around the table, and she doesn’t pull away when you lean down and press a soft kiss to her forehead. 
it feels right and natural, like something you should’ve done a long time ago. you wanted to, but you didn't know how she felt about you then.
nobody was present in the cafe instead of the barista who was too focused on making drinks, so you didn’t feel embarrassed to kiss her.
when you pull back, esmee smiling up at you, and for the first time in months, you feel like things between you two might finally be okay.
“so…barcelona, huh?” you say, trying to lighten the mood.
esmee laughs, that familiar sound you’ve missed so much. “yeah. looks like we’re stuck together again.”
you grin, squeezing her hand gently. “good. i wouldn’t want it any other way.”
my masterlist is here if you want to read more!
200 notes · View notes
cyborg-3005 · 9 days ago
Text
SPOILER TADC EPISODE 4 ANALYSIS BELOW
so, generally, these episodes keep getting better and better. one is with the facial expressions, pomni’s and jax’s especially felt very nuanced and added more opportunity to read their characters. but i do also mean writing-wise.
this episode definitely felt like it gave us a much larger glimpse into these characters as people:
while she’s “high,” ragatha mentions a lot of things (horses, dancing, etc.) that seem to be memories of her past life. she’s also more genuine about her feelings regarding the other characters, saying that especially harsh thing of gangle being more annoying with her comedy mask. generally, we’re getting more of a peek at how ragatha feels internally.
zooble is given a chance to be a bit more of the straight-person or the emotional stability for other characters to lean on, and is just more present than ever before.
pomni hasn’t evolved as much from her previous characterization, but she’s more in a position this time to be stable and not in constant mental peril.
jax is forcibly toned down as the day goes on, his underlayer of apathy and depression beginning to take over for his usual sadistic vigor.
there’s so many examples with gangle, but i’ll be getting into those later.
notably, especially by the end of the day, the humans aren’t acting like it’s the end of their adventure, but the end of an actual shift, as if this is their actual job that they drive from to their actual home somewhere. i find this interesting, especially for someone like pomni, who seems to take the idea of closing the shift most seriously—as if it’s real—despite her previously being the one most conscious about the artificiality of the adventures. i think this speaks to how in a normal setting, the characters kind of assimilate into it much quicker; the normalcy of this artificial mockery of real life attracts them as respite from the existential dread in being in a world that isn’t theirs. it also seems to awaken a bit more of their underlying selves.
pomni and gummigoo, man that was a powerful scene. we had all been dreading it, but i think i was pleasantly surprised at how mature and quiet pomni was in handling the situation—so many in the fandom tend to kinda infantilize her and so assumed that when she’d see gummigoo that she’d have some sort of breakdown, but the more frazzled and nuanced reaction she actually had feels much more realistic and true to her character.
i noticed gummigoo at least has the same name as before, as when pomni speaks it he reacts by reaching his hand out with some expression of concern. some have interpreted his mannerisms in this episode as that he actually remembered pomni and his previous self when she called his name but didn’t want to say anything to make the situation more complicated, which isn’t exactly 100% confirmed but is a cool theory regardless. i just really like him as a character in general, so it’s cool to see him again.
and i also really like how pomni’s interaction with him ended on a resolute and bittersweet note. like yeah, she’s definitely sad over the situation, but she’s not completely heartbroken—she seems glad to just have seen him again, even if he didn’t quite remember their time together beforehand. her feelings when seeing him are equally positive and negative, not this abject heartbreak that makes her drown in sorrow. she’s even briefly sorta infatuated with him at the counter, which is fun considering how ragatha on an offhand comment basically confirms funnygummy to be canon.
gotta say, maybe a little sadistic, i like seeing jax actually frightened. it seems like the only thing that ends up bringing out any remote amount of good in him, which we implicitly saw in episode 1 when he seemingly pulls gangle and kinger away from the kaufmo situation (perhaps out of fear for their safety?). i’m hoping we get to see his facade further broken down.
ragatha being high was really funny and very intriguing, as we get more of a glimpse at her “true self” underneath her mary-sue-esque facade.
zooble, i love zooble, man. i think to an extent they’re possibly one of the more heartwarming characters in the whole show just on the merit that their “coolness” isn’t quite a facade to distance themself like jax and they actually show care for their friends. i feel like zooble is less of a character we’ll need a dedicated episode for, and moreso one that will consistently show a bit more of themselves throughout.
and then
GANGLE.
i love how many layers there are to gangle’s “dissection” this episode. we see a glimpse into an excellent representation of bipolar disorder and manic episodes, and so much beyond that with her specifically. i love how her mention of the comic artist thing in jax’s “training video” was clearly a projection of her insecurities over her inability to chase her dreams in her past life, which is set up in the beginning by her mentioning her experience as a shift manager. the adventure’s promise of “normalcy”—a relief from her emotional instability, perhaps—quickly devolves into the horror of being left alone with your thoughts and surrounded by the infinite horizon of crushed dreams and mediocrity, that being the spudsy’s itself.
this adventure clearly awoke some old memories of her past life, making her wallow further in her grief over her not being perfect or excelling all the time. i found it amazing how well the pacing of the episode was able to add these layers one scene at a time to build up both the viewer’s understanding of gangle’s struggles and gangle’s struggles building up with the increasing stress of her job.
that scene at the end with her dancing into the traffic felt very reminiscent of a certain scene in DanDaDan episode 7 (i won’t spoil any of that). it’s interesting how happy she appears, yet it’s revealed to be a suicidal moment in some manners—her joy is derived from a destruction of self and the feelings of pressures being lifted that comes with that. when she throws the weird mask away, she’s lifting the burdens of “normalcy” and social responsibility off of herself, and her joy is not necessarily happiness itself but a cathartic feeling of being able to have a true moment of her own. it highlights, perhaps, why people engage in self-destructive behavior—it lets them let go of the burdens and expectations weighing on them, even for a moment.
i like the touch of how this moment doesn’t actually end in making her feel better—she ends up devastated over how she “ruined” everything by having that moment and being emotionally “selfish” for once. zooble makes her realize that no one is mad at her for having that moment (although the circus might be pissed over her time being all of their boss). i do find that in particular interesting, as it’s sort of a continuation of the sentiment both ragatha and jax express that they find gangle more tolerable with her tragedy mask. they’re unkind words, but the episode, and zooble’s moment of comforting her makes clear why those two were saying that—gangle is more of her “true self” without these overlaying masks (with the mask in this episode specifically, i think it represents the expectations of success and normalcy that capitalistic society imposes on us). it’s not that it’s wrong or unwarranted for gangle to want a happier mask, but the show demonstrates that gangle is the most genuine with her tragedy mask, when she has shed the masks that present her as being “acceptable” in a way that actally makes everyone more distant from her.
the “normalcy” of this adventure seemed to be what got to gangle, as the societal expectations of “normalcy” that come with that might have been gangle’s biggest struggle in her previous life. i love that ironically, the two characters that read the most “normal”—pomni and zooble—actually end up being the ones that connect with her, not to demonstrate that normalcy is good but the opposite: expectations of “fitting in” are bullshit, no one fits in or needs to, and pomni and zooble are demonstrating that.
one more thing i have to mention is i actually like how the show is aware of the pattern of “pomni sits and has a heartfelt conversation with another character in the dark at the act 2 low point” of episodes 2 and 3, and breaks the pattern during that scene with pomni and gangle outside in two ways, one of which being pomni’s “here we go again” attitude with the scenario when it begins, and how gangle forcibly ends the conversation before it gets too far for comfort, leaving the emotional resolution a bit more ambiguous and taking more of a journey to get resolved by the end.
my rambles only make slight bits of sense, but i hope you found something interesting to talk about in here. chat with me in the comments if ya want!
139 notes · View notes
worldofkuro · 8 months ago
Text
Painted Smile
Painted Smile XII
Pairing: Alastor x Female! Reader
<- Previous Chapter I Next Chapter ->
Summary: You couldn't wait to meet new friends. What you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.
Notes: Alright folks. This is Alastor point of view since his last chapter, it's 15K long. Beware: blood, killing animal, gore, drowing experience, torture, obession. I hope you'll enjoy what is going on inside our favorite deer's head.
“ You look tense, are you alright?” 
He repressed a sigh while turning his face toward his mother. He was reading a book about radio and how it worked. It didn’t seem complicated, it wasn’t complicated really but he knew he would have to put much more effort than others to be able to get a job that would satisfy him. People wouldn’t like a dark skinned man on the radio. 
“ I’m just reading.”
“ You’ve been reading the same book for weeks now. I should buy you another one.” his mother said as she took the book from his hands. He shook his head, taking his mother’s hand between his.
“ No need, mom. I was just thinking about what to buy you for Christmas.” 
“ Don’t you dare buy me something young man.” she tapped his nose with her finger, her face wearing a teasing smile. “ Let your mother spoil you before you become a grown man.”
He smiled at his mother with a soft expression. A grown man huh. What was the difference with how he was now ? Was she talking about his changing body? Or his morals? He watched her leave the room before signing. What was a grown man?
 He changed his clothes with his hunting outfit, put on his glasses and went to the woods. He walked quietly into the snow, stalking animals, or finding news areas. He watched as animals weren’t aware of his presence, he was the perfect hunter, almost like a divine punishment that couldn’t be stopped. He quite enjoyed the feeling, the thrill.. But hunting animals was getting boring.. He craved something more…more what? 
He thought about his father with a dark smile. He had so many scenarios inside his head,  how he would chase him, how he would trap him, he would make him feel the terror he had put on him and his mother for years. He had all the scenarios inside of his head but when it came to killing him, he didn’t know.  Maybe being a grown man was knowing how to kill someone? 
His thoughts drifted toward you. His special person, his safe space. You were stressing out because war was still going on and he was nearing the age where he would be taken to fight for his country. On one hand he didn’t want to go and leave you here, he didn’t think he could be sane knowing you were so far away from him but on the other hand, war meant killing, killing other humans, and that, that was interesting. 
He looked down on his pocket watch. It was something old, and that seemed to stop working each time he went into the woods. He rolled his eyes, this was so annoying. He walked back toward his home, as quietly as he arrived. He knew he was the most dangerous predator in these woods. Now, he needed to be the most dangerous predator in his own house.
He changed his outfit and went to your house with his mother. Your home has always been much warmer than his, and his mother would be smiling with your mom. He liked that image. Even with his father gone, his house was calm, not warm, because his mother and Alastor knew it was only a matter of time before the devil came back to his own house. He smiled at your mother when she opened the door and said you didn’t arrive yet. That’s okay, he’ll wait. He’ll always wait for you. 
After thirty minutes, there you were, opening the door with hot chocolate on your lips. How could you still drink that, he couldn’t understand you. You seemed in a hurry so what’s better than taking your attention from your quest?
“ Look who’s here~.” he smiled as you hugged him before kissing him on both cheeks. Your touch was something that grounded him, sometimes he would be so lost in thoughts he wouldn’t realize he zooned out for more than thirty minutes, sometimes even longer, but if you happened to touch him, he'd just come back, as easily as that.
“ Seems like someone drank hot chocolate but didn't bother wiping her mouth.” he wiped your bottom lips with his gloved hand. You flushed as he stared at your mouth, keeping his finger on your lips. He lightly pressed his finger against your lips, he almost wanted to nip it. Your lips looked… delicious. He looked at your eyes, the windows of your soul and couldn’t help but feel content. You had a glint in your eyes, a glint that would appear only in his presence. You looked at him like you were asking, begging for more… More of what? Please, do talk dear, tell him what you need, he’ll make it so you are fulfilled.
“ Oh my dear, you look starving.”
You gasped as you took a step back while Alastor was smirking at you, his arms folded behind his back. You stuck your tongue to him, like you used to, and he couldn’t help but grin. You were the same, the same little girl who would follow him everywhere. He smirked when he heard your mother’s remonstrance.
“ Yes, listen to your Mother. Keep your tongue inside your pretty mouth.” teased Alastor as he sat on the sofa with his usual mocking smile. “ Now my dear, do you have news to share with me?”
You began to talk about your school, what was happening there and of course you had to motion John. Truthfully, Alastor didn’t care about John’s interest in you, he really didn’t care, unless he was being dangerous. What he cared about was that you mentioned him. Which meant, he was important enough for you to notice him and bring him into your daily conversation.
“ Should I be alarmed ? It’s not the first time I heard this name ?” teased Alastor as he took off his glasses to clean them with a tissue from his chest pocket.
“ Which one? Alice? She wants to meet you…” you mumbled and tensed when you saw Alastor’s smile. Ohoh.. Now, that was interesting. Having another point of view about your associations would be a plus. He trusted you, but you were so naive, you couldn’t even see what you had to offer. How could he trust your word about people being nice to you without asking something in exchange.
“ Well, why didn't you say so! I would be delighted to meet the darling that blesses my sweet little friend with her presence when I’m not here!” he exclaimed as he stood up. You jumped off the sofa as you forced him to sit back down. 
“ No Alastor !”
“ Oh come on my dear, do you want to keep me all to yourself ? How bold.” he smiled as he watched you struggle to keep him sitting. If he just used some of his strength, it would be so easy to just stand up but he liked to see you try. How would you shut him up today? With a kiss on his cheek? A witty come back?
You sat on his lap.
He clenched his hand on the sofa, and inhaled deeply. What an odd reaction from his own body. He was used to your touch, some days his body couldn’t bear it but today it didn’t seem like it. He didn’t feel like your touch was burning him so it wasn’t a bad day. But your touch right now wasn’t as relaxing as usual. He stared at you, you were blushing. How cute. Were you feeling as conflicted as he felt ? He wanted to know. He needed to know what you were thinking.
“ What do you want for your birthday ?”
His body tensed for a second, staring straight at you, did you avoid what was happening? Oh well, he’ll let this one pass. He relaxed himself and laughed, tilting his head backward. He shook his head as he rolled his eyes. Every year you would ask him what he wanted for his birthday and each year he would give you the same answer.
“ Well, just like always. Celebrating with you and Mother. What could I ask for more?” he smiled at you but as you tried to stand up from his thighs, he grabbed your waist and pulled you near his face. He didn’t know what happened, his mouth talked before his own brain could think. “ Should we invite John?”
“ Who–? Wait, John? Why?” you frowned as you looked at his smile which was tense. He was grabbing your waist tighter now but you didn’t seem to dislike it.  You didn’t even flinch or wince in pain. Everything he gave you, you always took it nicely…
“ Wait… Are you jealous?” you smiled as his smile twitched,“ Yes, yes, you are. Haha !” you laughed, not mockingly, but happily, like you enjoyed the fact that he could be jealous. Him? Jealous? Don’t make him laugh, dear.
 He pinned you down on the sofa and began to tickle you. Your laughter was smooth music to his ears but then you began to gasp for air as your cheeks were flushed because of him. He felt a shiver run down his spine as you looked up at him with teary eyes and cheeks flushed. He kind of wanted you to talk in that state, what would you sound like? So he ordered you to say his three rules. He stared at your face as you opened your mouth.
“ You are the strongest here.” you gasped as you tried to wipe your tears that threatened to stream down your face but Alastor holded both of your wrists in one hand so you couldn’t hide from his observant eyes. Don’t hide from him. Don’t ever think about hiding yourself from him…
“ Rule number three.” 
“ I give up…” you breathed as you closed your eyes. You felt his head next to yours, his lips almost touching your ears.  You were so… enchanting. Did you put a spell on him, making him behave like a starved man that couldn’t help but seek your presence to be fulfilled ? What’s even worse, you were giving yourself to him. Were you aware of it? Each time you let him see your emotions, each time you let yourself be vulnerable with him, you were giving him such silenced praises. No one should feel safe with him. No one but you. But how he wished for you to tell him that. He wanted to hear those words from your mouth.
“ Give up yourself to me.” he whispered.
Your eyes opened suddenly, feeling your body being hot. You looked at Alastor who was above you. What did he say? Did he really say those words? He was so confused. That was new… He tilted his head as he watched your expression. You looked at him with..hope? Was that hope? Like you wished him to say those words again. But he wouldn’t, not now, he needed to understand what was going on inside of his own mind.
“ Are you okay, you look almost as red as Eamon ?” he laughed at you as he stood up, putting his glasses back on. You asked him to repeat himself which he did, still confused by his own behavior.  “ By the way dear, it seems like you have a letter.” he said as he held a letter to you, which made you beamed. Surefly it must have been from your father.
“ You still have no news from your father?” you asked after reading the letter.
“ No, I wouldn’t be surprised if he had been killed for insubordination.” he said with detachment as he looked at his nails. He wished his father was still alive, dying like an honorable soldier didn’t fit him at all. You nodded before turning your head toward the entrance where you heard a knock. You stood up and went to open the door and froze.
“ Alice ?”
Alice huh? Wasn’t she the one who oh so desperately wanted to meet him? He stood up from the sofa and listened to the conversation, trying to find clues about Alice’s personality without having to interact with the lady.
“ Alice… A man came to your door with my bag and you are not worried ? How did he know where you lived ? Does that mean he followed us?” he heard you say. Huh… He walked into the home’s entrance and saw you tugging a woman into your house before going outside, trying to see if someone was following her. Sweet heavens, did you not care about your own safety? He jerked you back inside the house giving you a pissed smile.
“ Are you dumb? If there is a man who is following you, why would you show your face, confirming that you are living here.” he asked you coldly. You closed the door quickly. 
“ The man isn’t here for me, if he is here. He didn’t follow me, he followed her.” you pointed to Alice. “ You can understand that, I mean, look at her.” 
He turned his back at you to look at the newcomer.  He observed her, she was a blue eyed girl, with long blonde hair and she looked like the cherry kind of girl. There he looked at her, could he give you back his attention now? Oh, he almost forgot his manners. He took her hand in his gloved one and flashed her his usual smile.
“ Quite a pleasure to be meeting you, I’ve heard a lot of you. You seemed like a clever woman, I would have never guessed that you would walk down the street with a soon to be stalker at your feet, bringing this man to my dear friend’s door!” 
“ N-nice to be meeting you, sir. I’m.. I’m sorry..?” Alice stared at you, begging you with her eyes to do something. She was lucky you were behind him or he would have slaughtered her with words about how dumb she was to bring danger to your front door. 
But he was a gentleman.
“ No, no, No need to be sorry. It is not your fault, but the gentleman’s one. You both shouldn’t stay outside alone.”
“ Alastor, maybe we are overthinking. Maybe he was a nice gentleman–”
“ Oh my friend, hush.” he turned back to Alice, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes. What did he tell you about your endearing naivety? “ What did he look like?”
He listened as the girl began to describe the man’s appearance. Tall, white man, black eyed, no pilosity.. Huh.. Everyone in New Orleans looked like that. But from what she told you before, it didn’t seem like a stalker. A stalker wouldn’t risk being seen…
“ Well, dear friends of mine, go into the living room, I'll go with some drinks.” you said, sounding upset to his ears. But right now he didn't have time for your emotion, your safety always came first.
“ No, no, I won’t bother you any longer. I’m going home.” 
“ I’ll accompany you.Stay here.”
He went to the kitchen, said to his mother that he was going to bring a lady back to her own home. He didn’t kiss you goodbye, why would he? He was going to come back as soon as the luggage was dropped. 
He walked while observing around him. If the stalker was for Alice, he would feel someone following him. He has an instinct that has been sharpened by his father’s constant presence. He knew where danger came from.
“ So.. You both are childhood friends?”
“ Well of course we are! Can’t you see the special bond that ties us together. Only a fool would deny such–”
“ Oh yes, yes, of course, I wouldn’t dare deny such a strong bond, but other boys, like a guy named John, would deny it. After all, some say, she has never been with another man than you so…” he looked at Alice, still smiling. Was she trying to work him up? 
“ Well, tell this… John fella, why would she need another man? Or even a woman? Our bond is too special for this stupid boy to understand.” he spat with a charming smile. Alice beamed as his answers. He didn’t like her. It was like she was observing him, hoping to find answers. 
Try again.
He let her at her front door steps and left quickly. It was beginning to be late and he didn’t want to kiss you goodbye if you were already asleep. He walked into your home and found your mother with a confused expression. Seemed like something happened and you were upset.
He frowned and went into your bedroom. He opened the door quietly and walked toward your lying form in your bed. He kneeled down and stroked your cheeks which were still wet from your tears.
Who made you cry?
Who dared make you cry?
“ Dear friend, why are you crying?”
You sat up immediately asking him why he was here, hiding yourself from him with your blanket. What a dumb question…
“ Well, I came to give you your kiss, dummy.” he approached his face toward you, staring at your eyes. “ But why are you crying? Is it because of the man?” his eyes went cold, his smile widened but there was no warmth. Did that man come here while he was taking your friend back home?  “ Did he come here? Did he touch you? Where?”
 You just stared at him as tears were falling down your cheeks. He wanted to slay something, someone. Each tear your eyes dropped would be a drop of blood out of the man’s body. 
“ This bastard was here? I fucking walked your little friend home so I could see if someone was lingering around here and that bastard had the nerve to come and–”
Then he couldn’t see you anymore, the blanket was covering his face. But then, he felt a pressure against his lips. He froze. Did you just… Did you..?
“ No.. I was just… afraid that you would leave me for Alice.” you whispered. He couldn’t see you and he knew that if you covered his face right now, it was because you didn’t want to talk about it at the moment. Well, he couldn't be mad at you. Since you introduced your game of covering someone's eyes and then telling a secret and the other had to keep his mouth shut about it, he did it to you plenty of times when you were being a little too curious.  “ She is a beautiful lady, and she is interesting, sweet… a perfect lady you would say.”
“ Don’t put words in my mouth dear.” You chuckled as he moved his hand blindly toward your cheek, wiping your tears away. Seemed like you stopped crying, great.  “ So, you thought she was going to take me away from you? How absurd. Nothing could tear me away from you, not even yourself.”
You really thought something could keep him away from you? How absurd. He waited for an answer for you but was confronted by a dead silence. Well…
“ Can I take off your blanket now?”
You laughed and uncovered his face, his warm smile was back,your laughter could calm him down so quickly… You really put a spell on him, didn’t you? He watched you as you fidgeted with your nightgown. Well, it seems like it was time for him to take his leave!
“ You look like an absolute mess my dear friend! I’ll let you rest and please, do get your beauty sleep unless you want to crack every mirror you shall see.” he laughed as you tried to hit him with a pillow. He kissed you on the forehead, giggling before leaving your bedroom. “ See you soon, doll~!”
He didn’t know why but he walked back home with his mother with a big smile on his lips.
—-
He wiped the blood from his face. Killing animals was getting easier and easier. He chuckled as he stared at his bloodied knife and the dead animal around him. Rabbit, doves, wild board. He laughed out loud, his head tilted back.
Yes, this thrill… This thrill ! 
“ Oh father, please stay alive. I’m preparing something worth living once, I’m preparing your Death.” he laughed maniacally in the forest with cadavers surrounding him. He turned his head toward the noise of a branch cracking, already raising his knife but stopped moving. 
A deer.
Was it the same deer he saved that made his father beat him?
“ Well, hello there. Am I disturbing you?” he smiled, tilting his head. He watched as the deer came closer and began to eat the rabbit's remains. Alastor’s eyes widened before chuckling. What kind of deer would eat meat? “ Aren’t you odd? Well, I guess we are the same..” He stared at his bloody hands and couldn’t help but think about you. What would you think right now? Nobody was forcing him to hunt. He was doing it himself, he was enjoying himself.. Would you still smile at him with the same smile? The same warmth in your eyes. He closed his eyes as he inhaled the blood scent. 
Would you understand him? Or would you run away from him ? 
Would you wait for him at home, preparing dinner while he comes back, dirty, bloody from his hunts. Would you embrace him, worrying about his health and not the animal's? Would you kiss his bloodied lips or put a blanket in front of it? Would you live in a lie with him or accept him fully… Would you open your eyes and stare at his soul and tell him you’ll stay by his side…
Oh odd for him to think like this. But he was thinking about you, so he wasn’t really surprised. He stood up and looked around, the deer wasn’t here anymore. He took some animals and brought them back home so his mother could cook them. His mother had a sad smile when she saw him enter their house, he wondered why. He quickly prepared a bath but just before getting into it he stared at himself in the mirror.
His scars were beginning to fade, for some of them. He chuckled before going into the bath.
He was so monstrous, inside and out.
He tilted his head back on the edge of the bathtub. He hummed a melody you used to sing when you were younger. It’s been a long time since he hadn't heard you sing, he should find a song to play so you could sing. He nodded before sinking into the water, smiling as the water began to redden from the blood he had on him.
Yes, he should go see you.
—-
“ I’ll be delighted!”
He smiled as you looked at him from the swing, confused. You just asked him about coming with you into Alice’s soirée for Chritmas’s Eve.  He was lying down, reading a book which he didn’t even remember the title of. 
“ Really? You would like to come?” you smiled as you let the swing go, walking toward him. He put his book down and looked up at you with his usual grin, he really was excited about it! 
“ Of course dear, going to a soirée with you holding on to my arm? How could I refuse? And I’m sure my Mother would be delighted to celebrate Christmas’s Eve with your mother, as long as we celebrate Christmas with them.” he sketched before sitting up. You laughed softly before tugging off leaves from his hair. He smiled and layed down on your thighs, taking his book back and began to read the same sentence he was trying to comprehend. I Love You. What does it mean ? What was the protagonist feeling right now? The description of his feelings seemed so light compared to what Alastor felt for you. He was obsessed with you and yet he didn’t feel like what was described in this book. 
He wanted you to see the monster inside of him. That side of him you haven’t met again. He wanted you to be able to make yourself bleed in front of him, like a fish in front of a shark, but never being afraid of him hurting you. You would look so beautiful drenched in blood…
“ Alastor, what are you going to wear?”
He snapped back in reality, answering you without missing a beat.
“ Why?”
“ Come on, I was just wondering… I don’t know what kind of dress would suit me, I have never been to a fancy soirée. I’m scared of being… underdressed. “ he almost scoffed at your words. You? Being afraid of being underdressed? Hah ! How stupidly adorable. You could be shining like the sun and he would still watch you until his eyes dry out. He tilted his head backward on your laps so he could stare into your gaze. You were beautiful, how unfair…
“ Red suits you.” he stared at you before you looked away. Were you cheek flushed? Cute… See, red suited you.
“ Well, thank you, does that mean that the only color that suits me is red and I look awful with any other color?” 
“ Oh I didn’t say that. I just want to see you in red.” he smiled in satisfaction as your smile grew bigger. You took his book off his hands, which he let you do, still looking at you. You put the book next to you, on the grass. 
“ Do you think you'll be able to keep up with me if we have to dance ?” you teased him, raising an eyebrow. His eyes widened before he roared with laughter, holding his belly. You were utterly humorous ! He had more endurance than you and he loved dancing. Being in control of the other person’s body was thrilling. They trusted him not to make them fall, they tried to match his footsteps… He stared at you with mirth in his eyes. Oh dear… 
“ Oh my dearest friend, if we happen to dance, trust me, I’ll make it so you wouldn’t be able to walk for some days.” he winked at you with a confident smile. You laughed out loud, throwing your head back. Maybe he should give you a reminder of his skills…
He took your hand and helped you standing up before walking you home. The road was frozen which made him suppress a few laughs as he saw some people slipping on the ice while you were busy looking at the shop’s vitrines. Were you still trying to find a birthday present for him? You should rather look where you were putting your feet… 
“ Hey, Alasto-”
Thought so.
You screamed as your foot slid on ice. You felt yourself falling before Alastor wrapped his arms around you and tugged your body against him before gracefully dancing around the freezed road. You stared at him, your eyes wide opened as he made you spin on the freezing floor, but you never fell, he was moving your body, like it was another part of him. You began to laugh happily. 
He couldn’t help but smile wider. Your laughter was something that could heal any illness in the world, he was sure of it. And yet, you were the one, making him feel things he couldn’t name. You must be a witch, making him fall for you without him trying to struggle. And even though you were the one putting a spell on him, you let him do what he wanted with your body. You closed your eyes as he controlled the pace of your dancing. What were you trying to do to him?
 He made you drop, your head almost touching the ground. You stared at him as he held you firmly, your breath coming in short puff. He was staring intensely at you with a satisfied smile, yes, this looked good on you.
“ No matter what, I’ll always catch you if you fall.”
As he walked you back home he hoped you understood his message. No matter how hard you fell, how low you fell, he would be there before you,lower than you waiting to catch you.
—-
He was at your place with his mother fussing around him. She wanted him to look perfect but wasn’t he always perfect? He knew how to keep appearance, so being dressed up was the easiest thing someone could ask him. He held the bouquet behind his back, he wondered if you would understand the meaning of the flowers. He asked the florist for hyacinth, white carnation and white chestnuts. He was excited though, he really couldn’t wait to see your dress. Did you choose a red dress? His suit was a darker shade of red but he hoped you both would match. 
“ Alastor, come closer, there she is !”
He walked toward the stairs and froze.
Oh.
You were breathtaking.
Your makeup was accentuating your traits. You looked devilishly divine. You were wearing red. Your legs made him want to sink his teeth into it. You wore heels making you the same height as him.  You kissed him softly on both cheeks making him gulp. He felt like he had no control over himself. You were like something he wasn’t worth touching and yet, you were offering yourself to him. How cruel of you.
“ Alastor, please say something…” you begged, looking down.
Oh no, his dearest shouldn’t look so down while looking so perfect. He grabbed your chin softly and raised your face toward his. 
“ I told you, red is our color.” he smirked before giving you the bouquet. You smiled brightly as you saw the flowers, you didn’t seem to understand the message but who cared when you were smiling like this? He couldn't tear his eyes from you, you were enchanting, ethereal…
“ You both are so beautiful, but leave right now before being late !” Marie said just after taking a picture of you. You took a long coat that hid your figure before leaving with your arm around Alastor’s one. 
“ I can’t wait to be there ! “ you said excitedly. Alastor was being careful of every man who could touch you in any way. He didn’t think he would be able to have a polite gentleman's conversation if that were to happen. He looked at your feet, you were walking nicely with those heels, you weren’t even slipping on the frozen road.
After a thirty minute walk, you both find yourself in front of a huge house.Well, he already knew Alice was a daddy’s girl so he really wasn’t surprised, unlike you, from your expression, you didn't expect Alice to be this loaded.
You knocked on the huge door and a butler opened the door, eyeing suspiciously but before you could even your mouth you saw Alice running toward you. She was wearing an outfit similar to yours but hers was white and blue. She looked boringly angelic. He almost scoffed, please, was she supposed to be some kind of boring angel?
“ You made it ! Come, come, come inside!” 
After introducing yourself to some of Alice’s guests, you walked toward a buffet. He already remembered every name, every contact he could make right now.
“ Well, what do you think of it so far?” you asked him with a tired smile. He took a drink and sniffed it before putting it back. “ What?”
“ Be careful, some of the brevage have alcohol,” he said before leaning against the wall.” but I’m not surprised. Your friend seems to be the type to always go big.  Being able to pull off this kind of soirée with a war going on? I’m almost impressed.” he said before straightening his tie.  Now, could the band he saw before entering, begin to play? He wanted to dance with you and show off your talents.
“ Alastor, is it you?”
Dang it.
He flashed the lady his most charming smile. She was the mayor’s daughter, Alyzée. So Alice was close with high society.. He began a conversation with her. He met her during a school event, he was playing the piano and she began to chat with him. She must be around her twenties and yet, she came to him. Perfect for him, she could be useful.
He looked at the band as they began to play songs. He almost flinched when the woman dragged him toward the dance floor. Well, he could afford to waste some dance with this woman before going back to you. The songs weren’t hard to keep up, so dancing with Alyzée was pleasant at most but he couldn't help but look to where you were.
He almost snapped Alyzée’s hand.
You were dancing with that John. Why was he here? He looked so underdressed, you weren’t going to dance with him once more would you? He spinned Alyzée, never letting you off his gaze. If that bastard were to throw you in the air…
He turned his face toward Alyzée as she began to talk about her father’s plan for New Orleans. Great, that would smooth his nerves. What did the man planned for the black community? He listened to her, still dancing. It wasn’t thrilling in the slightest but at least, he had some information on what was going on in the high sphere.
After some dances, another girl came to ask him for a dance. He gave her his usual smile and took her hand, thanking Alyzée for her information. Well, this new girl wasn’t useful in any way but she could be a distraction if she knew how to dance.
He snapped his head toward the scene as soon as your voice reached his ears. What were you doing on stage? You were astonishing. You held the crowd in the palm of your hand. You were controlling them with your voice, were you aware of that? You were a devil in disguise. Ooh, you were exquisite. 
He suppressed a sigh as the woman tried to take his attention back. He couldn’t be impolite here, there were too many risks at stake. He danced with her, hoping for some kind of divine power to put an end to this clown show. He almost smirked when he heard you singing with much more vigor, the beat getting faster. Oh, how he loved those kinds of songs. Unfortunately for him, it seemed like his dance partner couldn’t keep up with him.
He flinched when he felt someone touch him and turned around. 
There you were.
You grinned at him, singing before smoothly taking him away from the girl. You both were encircled by the crowd but he didn’t care. Alastor and you danced, never breaking eye contact. You kept the rhythm as fast as you could, every step was nailed, every spin. He would bring your back against his chest and then he would spin you so your face was inches away from each other. Your pupils were dilated, just like his, were you aware of that? And then Alastor lifted you in his arms before throwing you in the air.  Did you remember his promise to always catch? It seemed you did, because you already had your eyes closed before he lifted you in the air. 
You fell down in his arms, your head near the floor but never touching it. You felt his breath on your lips and you opened your eyes, staring right back into his gaze. He was sweating and so were you. You were holding his shoulder, breathing hard. You were both alone in your own world. 
Wasn’t living much more worth it when you were both together, dearest?
And just like that, the spell broke as the crowd cheered for you. You blinked and Alastor straightened you up with a genuine smile. You both went back to the buffet after you gave back the microphone to the singer.
“ Oh my Lord, you both were.. I don’t even have the words!” squealed Alice as she shook you by the shoulders. 
“It really was amazing.” John said as he clapped while you were drinking a glass of water. Of course, you punk.
“ That’s what happens when you let us do our things together, let that be a lesson folks.”  Alastor said as he put his arms around your shoulders.  You nudged him but couldn’t contain your laughter. You were having a great time and so was he now. He tugged you once more toward the dance floor, he promised you many dances after all.
After a while, he sat down with you at a table with some friend of Alice’s. He already knew where it was going to go. 
“ You’ve never kissed before? Hoho, you don’t know what you are missing.” said a lady to John who just blushed. The lady started at Alastor. “ And you, pretty boy? Have you ever kissed someone ?” 
“ Yes, I have.”
He smirked. You were his first kiss, and everyone should be envious of him for that. But what he didn’t understand was when the question was asked to you, you said you’ve never kissed anyone. At first, he thought you were ashamed of having kissed him but it wasn’t what was shown on your face. You looked… hurt. 
“ Well, why not remedy it tonight, just before Christmas ! John, was it, why don’t you kiss our adorable singer right here?” you flushed even more and Alastor felt anger swirling up inside of him? Could someone shut this harlot?
“ As if my dearest friend’s first kiss would be with such a boring fella, no offense my friend.” said Alastor sarcastly. Could they stop talking about you like you were some kind of prize? You must have been upset because you stood up and went into the garden behind the mansion. He stood up after a minute or so and joined you outside.
“ You are going to catch a cold.”
You turned your head toward Alastor as he took off his blazer, ready to hand it to you. You shook your head. Hha.. you were being a brat right now?
“ No, I needed… I need the cold air.” he hummed, well, he could have guessed.
“ Why did you lie ?”
“ Pardon?” you turned your body toward him as he took a step toward you.
“ About your first kiss.” he really needed that answer.
“ I didn’t lie, I’ve never kissed anyone. And unlike you, if I did, I would have told you but Mister Alastor doesn’t care to share such a secret with me, am I right?” you crossed your arms over your chest. He smiled at you mockingly. How could you be so stupid but so adorable at the same time? How?
“ Don’t you dare look at me like that, Alastor.”
“ You’ve always been endearingly stupid. My first kiss was with you, in your room, remember ?” he tilted his head as he took another step toward you. He saw your body relaxed and you began to explain how it wasn’t a real kiss because in books bla bla.. He rolled his eyes as you looked away, why did you care about books? Were they the one writing what was going on between the both of you. His hand found the back of your waist as he softly tugged you against him. Come on, don’t hide from him…
“ So, a first kiss must be with a special someone, right?” he waited for you to nod before raising your chin with his finger. “ Then, can I give you my real first kiss?” You stared at him with your eyes wide open, your cheeks flushed red. “ You are my most special person since childhood… For me, it’s only natural for you to have my first kiss.” he smiled at you, did you understand what he was trying to tell you?“ You don’t have to if you don’t want of course, but–”
“ I want to. You.. You are also my .. most special person…” he nodded with a soft genuine smile. That made his body relax. He smirked as he saw you closing your eyes. Oh no little lady, you hid yourself one or two many times tonight. You’ll let him watch your emotions.
“ Nu-uh, keep your eyes on me.” you opened your eyes, blushing furiously.
“ You are supposed to close your eyes when you are kissing someone !”
“ I don’t really care, this is our first kiss, we’ll do it how we want.” he smirked as he approached his face toward you. Your eyes were looking everywhere on his face while his gaze was focused on your eyes. You were nervous and excited. Did you feel this emptiness being fulfilled because of his presence like it was with yours? You did finish by closing your eyes as you kissed each other. How cute…
You kept your eyes closed as Alastor stepped back slightly , he could still feel your breath against his mouth. You opened your eyes and gave him a shy smile as he whispered.
“ So dear, have you ever kissed someone ?” you nodded. “ With whom?” Say it, say it, say it…
“ Alastor.”
“ How was it?”
“ Perfect.” you smiled at him as he grinned at you before covering your shoulder with his blaze. He could see your lipstick being less vivid than before. He must have some of your lipstick on his lips. He licked his lips.
“ Come on now, the soirée needs its stars !”
He went back inside, keeping his jacket on your shoulder. It would be a shame for you to get sick. He sat back down and easily went back to the conversation that was being carried on. They were talking about how they wished the enemy would just drop dead. He smirked, they didn’t know how to kill but they wished for other people's death either way. How hypocritical.
He felt your hands on his tights. He took your hand in his, caressing your skin before looking at you. You were pointing to his own lips and he couldn’t help but grin harder. Alice must have told you about your lipstick. He leaned toward you.
“ You already want another one?”
You threw yourself back against your chair as Alastor was laughing, throwing his head back. Everyone stopped talking and looked at the both of you, confused and curious. You took your glass, hiding your face behind it as they tried to coat you to tell them what had happened. Alastor couldn’t help but talk first, clearly wanting to tease you.
“ I just reminded my dearest friend that being gluttonous was bad,” he said with a cunning smile. Oh, you looked so pissed ! “ You might get addicted!”
“ Unlike you, I don't have food all over my mouth.” You closed one eye, staring at him with the other as you drank from your glass.“ and as you know my dear Alastor, since our younger age, you always were the glutton one.” you smirked. Oho, were you trying to shut him up? Cute attempt.
“ You know that when I like something, I can’t help but crave more until there is nothing left for others to share.”
He grinned as you almost spat your water. 1-0. He won this fair and square.
“ Ooh Alastor, you have such a way with words. What else can that mouth do?” said a woman. He turned his gaze toward her, his smile still present.
“ It bites.” 
Thank God, you wanted to go home. He shook some hands and waved at Alyzée before leaving with you. You were shaking, from the cold weather and, he supposed, from your heels. Well.. He kneeled and carried you in his arms and began walking toward your home.
“ You know you have lipstick on your lips?”
“ Well, yes.  Dear, when you kissed me I could see that your lipstick wasn’t as clean as before. And with Alice’s reaction, it just confirmed my thoughts.” he smiled teasingly at you. 
“ But… Why did you not wipe it?”
He shut his mouth. How could he explain that he wished to feel you longer on his lips. He wanted your taste on his tongue. He wanted to consume you like you were consuming his thoughts. He lost himself in his thoughts until you were in front of your doorstep.
“ I wanted to feel you a little longer.”
Seems like you understood he still wasn’t really sure about his feelings. You just held his hands between yours before opening the door, entering the silent house. He closed the door, watching around him, making sure there wasn't anything strange. 
After checking on his mother he went into your bedroom where you were already ready to fall asleep still dressed up. He dragged you toward the bathroom and sat you on the bathtub’s edge. You were whining that you were oh so tired but he didn’t care. You needed to go to bed completely clean. He began to wipe your lips as you accepted your fate.
“ Good girl.” he smirked at you with a mocking glint in his eyes.
And there it was. You bit his finger and he felt his body react. He felt a shiver going from the top of his hand until the end of his legs. He knew you didn’t like being called a good girl, most of the time he used those terms when he was easily manipulating someone. But you weren’t like other people.
You were his oh so precious special person…
He leaned toward you, making you lean back, keeping his finger between your teeth, until your back was at the bottom of the bathtub. He climbed above you, his eyes never leaving yours.
“ I recall being the one who said that I bite…” he looked at you calmly as you stared at him with angry eyes. Did you know how it made him feel that you accepted that situation so easily? His hands had killed animals, his hands were drenched in their blood and soon enough his father’s blood. Yet, here you were, staying comfortably underneath him, like he wasn’t the most dangerous man you have ever met.
Would you accept him ? This question was beginning to bring him closer to madness than he would admit. Would you dirty yourself with him? Would you drenched your hands in blood and then cup gently his head with a sweet smile.
Would you be a sinner for him? with him?
Then he felt cold water on him. You just turned on the shower.. He smirked, was that a sign? You would be the one washing up his sins? Or did it mean you would always want a cleaner version of himself, that you couldn’t accept his bloodied self? You both cleaned up before you asked for his help in your bedroom. Seemed like you couldn’t take off your dress by yourself.
He approached you and dragged the zip down. You thanked him but didn’t move when you felt his gaze on your back.He wondered how he was looking at you? Like a hunter? Like a friend? Like a man? You turned your head toward him with a curious expression. He was still looking at your back with a straining smile. “ I hope nobody will ever backstab you… Can I..?” he whispered as he held his hand toward your back. You nodded and closed your eyes when you felt his other hand covered your eyes. 
You were so compliant, never asking anything about his weird tendencies. He stared at your back, unharmed, unlike his. He traced the scars his father did on his back, but on yours. But unlike his fathers, his fingers were gentle against your skin. You weren’t flinching, afraid of him. You were even pressing yourself against his hands.  Would you still have done it if you knew his thoughts? His delirious thoughts about killing his father? Would you still let his dirty hands touch you?
“ Alastor..” you whispered and he hummed in response. “ Can I… Can I do the same..?”
Could you do the same..? He wished for it. He wanted you to see him, as he was. But tonight, he would be a coward.
“ If you keep your eyes closed.”
He took off his shirt and sat down on your bed, his back facing you. His body was tense, he knew you would keep your eyes closed but he felt like you could see right through him. That in any moment you would scream at him to leave you alone. That he was the same kind of monster as his father.
But this moment never came. Your hands were so gentle against his bruised skin, against his broken self. You asked him if he was okay multiple times, making sure he was still with you. How perfect could you be? He tried to keep himself from hugging you, letting you map his back with your hands.
“ You are beautiful, Alastor.”
“ You say that because you keep your eyes closed when you are with me.”
“ Then, let me open them.”
“...No, not yet.”
Please, let him believe you were accepting as he was right now. 
“ Alright.” you said softly. You didn’t ask, as always, letting him be ready to come to you. He didn’t deserve you and yet, he would destroy anyone that would try to keep you away from him. He flinched when he felt your lips against one of his scars. You began to apologize but he stopped you, you didn’t have to apologize. Never.
He moved, making you step back. He was now sitting in front of you, with his legs opened and you in between, on your knees. Your eyes were still closed, as instructed. He smiled, you didn’t break his trust, you never will, right?
“ Alastor.. Where..?”
“ I’m here, you are caged between my legs right now.” he said with a teasing smirk.
You scoffed at the choice of his words.
“ I’m caged ?” you teased him, tilting your head against his legs. 
“ With me.” he kissed you on your forehead.” Would you like that? Being caged with me?” he whispered almost desperately. 
“ Yes.”
Oh Lord.
He tugged you against his torso, embracing you as hard as he could. You didn’t hesitate, you would be ready to throw yourself to the flames with him. How could he not crave you? Maybe you would accept him, you’ll just need more time than he thought. He kissed your forehead before putting back his shirt. He went downstairs to prepare your hot chocolate. He grimaced as he smelt the scent. How could you drink this…
He walked quietly upstairs and gave you your drink which you happily drank.  You fell asleep almost immediately. He would almost be envious as he looked at your sleeping form before letting himself rest for an hour or two.
The next morning, everyone was giving their presents. He smiled when you gave him a watch. He didn’t know why, but he knew deep inside that this watch would keep working even in the woods or even through Hell itself.
Alastor was helping his mother clean the house. She hurted her hips so he was taking care of lifting the heavy boxes he found in the cave. His mother never wanted him to go there, sometimes he respected until this day. She was the one asking him to clean there and he was excited. What kind of secret would he find?
Nothing much but books and some animal’s skeletons. He sat on an old chair and leaned against a shelf a little too hard which made a book fall. He sighed as he took the book and stared at him. What was that… It looked like a journal, almost the same as the one he had in his bedroom since he could write. He opened it and began to read.
It was a Voodoo’s book. Explaining its origins and even more interesting, what could be done with it. Alastor couldn’t help but smile as he began to read spells about soul binding, trapping souls inside objects… What was needed, for each spell, were animal sacrifices to feed and beckon the spirits.  Was that why his mother would ask him to hunt, but sometimes, never cooking the animals? 
He smirked. If he could control or work with those spirits… He would be unstoppable. From what he read, it was in his blood but he’ll be the judge of that, if spirits were useful or not, if they existed or not. He shut the book. He needed more information, he needed to practice. He needed a place where he could learn without being bothered. He bit his lips, the cave must be his mother’s sacred place, it wouldn’t feel right to taint it with his dark goals. He held the book against his chest as he went to his bedroom quietly. 
He’ll find a place.
He sat on his bed and began to read the soul binding spells. He needed your blood and his, and an object that would bind us together, an object that had a powerful meaning for the both of you. He frowned as he looked at all the things he needed to own before making the spells. He laid on his bed. An object that binds you together. Why not his microphone from when he was younger? You both had fun with it, it wasn’t working anymore but still…
 His eyes settled on Eamon.
Perfect.
Eamon was the best material bond between the both of you. He smiled as he stroked the plushie’s fur. When you first gave it to him, the fawn had pure white fur, now it was mostly red because of him…
He put the fawn down. He needed to see you and maybe find a clue if you would accept his new interests. He knew voodoo was seen as a barbaric religion, but from what he read, it was just like any other one. He took his coat and asked his mother if she needed any more help which she declined. 
He walked toward your home but your mother told him you were having your period and this one was particularly painful. He blinked. Didn’t you have your period earlier this month? He remembered the first time you had your period he didn’t understand. You were bleeding but weren’t injured. He almost had a panic attack when you were shouting at him, telling him to leave you alone. You didn’t deserve this pain. When he asked his mother about it, she explained what menstruation was about. He really was impressed by women.
But if you were having your period, again, he wouldn’t bother you. He slid a chocolate bar under your bedroom’s door after you told him you were going to rest today. He could hear the lie in your voice but when you were on your period you would always lie by telling him you were feeling better, or that you weren’t hungry.
He decided to take a relaxing walk but after a while, he could feel someone was trying to follow him. Well, he couldn’t do what he wanted to do today… He went into a coffee shop, some boys from school came to him but he didn’t care about them, he was trying to find his mysterious stalker. He couldn’t feel any murderous aura in their stare but that didn’t mean they weren’t dangerous.  
When he left the coffee shop, he waited in an alley and smirked when he found the person who had been following him all afternoon.
“ May I know why you are following me, my goodfella?”
He had a knife in his pocket, he really didn’t want to use it but maybe, in front of him, was your stalker. He needed more information but the person ran away. Alastor scoffed, the only person who could outrun him was you. He ran after the stalker but then realized.
He couldn't catch them.
Was he running after you? He biforked into another alley, running toward your home. If you weren’t in bed, that would mean that you were the one who had been following all afternoon. But why?
He entered your home by slamming the door, startling your mother but he kept running until he heard your voice in pain. He opened your door and there you were, in your bed sweating although the windows were wide open. He went to close it and stared at the tree near the opening. Did you use a tree to leave your room? He could see some dirt on the edge of your windows. So you were following him all afternoon…
“ Well my dear, I was chasing what I think could be your stalker.” you stared at him with wide eyes. “But what was worrisome was that when I chased them, they ran into your house’s direction. You haven’t seen anything suspicious my friend ?” he stared at you with his usual smile. You shook your head but he could see you were lying. He didn’t say anything, you were surely trying to find a present for his birthday. But why did you feel the need to lie to him? He kissed your forehead before leaving you alone, he didn’t like it when you were lying to him, no matter the subject.
He went back home and began to read the Voodoo’s book while taking notes in his journal. He didn’t know why but all the information about some rituals were sticking in his mind effortlessly. 
It was so interesting, he really hoped you would understand him.
He was talking with your mother, with some sweets he had made with his mom. He knew you always wanted chocolate when you were on your period, if you really were on your period right now, so he would just make some. Sometimes he would prank you by putting some spice in the chocolate and it was always a hilarious sight when you realized what he had done. 
Your mother had told him you went out with Alice and you should be back soon enough. He didn’t mind talking with your mother, she would tell him cute stories about you before you came settling in New Orleans. But as the stories were being told, he was getting more and more agitated. 
You were still outside with Alice as the weather was beginning to get more and more dangerous. He asked your mother if he could use the telephone which she agreed to. He called Alice’s house. Maybe you decided to sleep there because of the weather.
“ Yes, Alice speaking.”
“ Where is she?” he asked, he didn’t really cared for Alice, he needed to know you were okay.
“ Oh.. She.. She is with me of course, we were getting ready to sleep because of the weather!”
She was lying.
That meant that you weren’t with Alice. Where were you then?
“ Alice, if you cared about you pathetic life, you are going to tell me where my dearest friend is.” he spoke calmly, hiding his inner turmoils.
“ I… I can’t, she would hate me if I were to tell you…”
He was sure he was going to destroy the telephone from anger. He was sure it was about his birthday.
“ If it’s for my birthday, I know” he lied “ So where is she? The radio said there will be a snowstorm soon enough.”
Alice mumbled something before telling him the truth. You were in an unknown house, far from here, alone. He laughed nervously, asking for the address. Alice gave it to him and he hung up. He went to your mother, asking for your father’s car. She seemed surprised but when he said that you were alone in a house far from here, she gave him the key. If he was lucky, he would be able to arrive before the snowstorm hit.
He knew how to drive, he learned by himself in secret. He took the car and drove for about an hour , following Alice's instruction, until he saw a house. The snowstorm was already raging but he needed to see if you were okay. Didn’t you know there were crazy people who would break into a lady's house who was living alone?
He walked toward the house, trying to see something. Fortunately for him he arrived near the door, but slid because of the ice and slammed against the door. Dang it. He tried to open the door but it was locked. Good, you weren’t that naive yet. He stepped back and looked at the roof. He needed to be careful because with the snow and the wind, he could fall but he could manage to enter by the window.
He climbed easily and then broke the window with his foot before entering the room. He heard your scream and ran toward you, were you hurt, did someone was with you? He only had the time to see you running through a backdoor.
Damn it.
He couldn’t let you run away, you were faster than him, he would lose you easily. He shouted your name as he ran after you. He could only see your shadow getting farer and farer from him. He felt his chest hurt at the thought of losing you here. He screamed your name, desperately. Please, just hear him…
He stopped himself as he felt ice under his foot. It seemed like a frozen lake. 
“ Stay away !” you shouted, the wind carrying your voice to him. “ I’m not afraid of killing you !” 
You were there, he could hear you so if he screamed, you would hear him too. He tried to take a step on the frozen lake but he could hear the cracks getting louder. He couldn’t risk taking another step.
“Look at me!”
He felt his body relaxed as he saw your frame getting closer to him before you disappeared.
You just fell down the lake.
You fell down the lake.
You fell down the lake.
You fell down the lake.
You fell down the lake.
He didn’t wait any longer and punched the ice with his bare hands, trying to widen the hole. He jumped into the water, not even caring about the cold. He opened his eyes and there you were, sinking peacefully away from him. He swam toward you, tugged you against him before swimming toward the surface but he couldn’t find the hole he came from. He punched the ice, trying to break it once more. He punched it again, one time, two times, and then his hand traversed the ice, breaking his skin. He was feeling his body trying to force him to open his mouth to catch some air.
Not yet.
He smashed the ice with his fists and lifted you out of the water, he didn’t care if he didn’t have air yet, he needed you to be safe first. He pushed you out of the water before getting his head out of it. He gasped as he grasped the edge of the ice, cutting himself once more. He lifted himself off the water and immediately went toward you.
“ No, no, open your eyes. Look at me!” He shook your shoulder but you stayed silent. He put his head against your chest. Your heart was still beating. He forced you to breathe by performing mouth to mouth. He looked at you as you coughed the water that was in your lungs. Now you need to get somewhere warm. He carried you and ran toward the cottage and thanks to some kind of miracle, he managed to find his way back through the snowstorm. He lit up the fire in the chimney and ran in the house, taking every blanket he could find. He undressed you until you were left in your undergarments. He put the blankets around you, he didn’t care about himself, your safety was his priority. 
He talked to you, begging you to open your eyes for thirty minutes. He kissed your lips, praying that you would just wake up. He looked at you as you pushed him, coughing. He closed his eyes, he was relieved but then anger began taking place in his body. You almost died tonight. You almost ran away from him, somewhere he couldn’t follow.
 “ What are you doing here..?”
“ Is that the first question you want to ask me ?” His voice was cold, his face was stoic, his usual smile non-existent. He was shaking with anger and fear. “ What were you thinking going out in a bloody snowstorm? Have you lost your mind ?” he stood up, raising his voice at you.
He didn’t understand why, but you were angry too. 
“ I was doing great before you came along! Why are you here?”
“ There is a bloody stalker after you and you decide to stay alone in a deserted area ? Tell me dear, are you trying to impress me with your stupidity because you succeeded.Congratulations.” he said mockingly as he sat on the sofa, trying to dry his hair with a towel, now that you were okay he needed to warm his body and the first step was drying his hair.
“ I was preparing your birthday, it was supposed to be a surprise !”
“ My birthday’s not worthwhile if you are not by my side!” he shouted, throwing the towel on the floor, his eyes shining with fury. He came to you and tugged you closer by grabbing the necklace he had given you on Christmas. “ What a charming surprise it would have been, finding your dead body in the snow ! Celebrating my birthday would mean celebrating your death? Oh, you really are spoiling me, my friend. You really are taking the cake!” he spat as he stared at you.  What were you thinking for heaven’s sake!
“ Don’t shout at me !”
“ Don’t play with your life then!” He took the knife you brought with you before running away from his wet pants.” What did you think you could have done with that? Would you stab a man my dear, tell me, would you do it?” he taunted you, mocked you, moving the knife in front of your eyes. “ Do you know how to kill, my dearest?” his voice was low, menacing, he wanted you to speak to him. Stop with the lies; speak what’s on your mind.
And then you cried while telling you would have stabbed someone, you would have killed someone so you could live longer with him. He hugged you as he felt his heart beat faster. Were you like him?  Maybe it was the perfect time for him to come clean…
After explaining what had happened he took off his shirt, and your eyes immediately fell upon his scars. You came toward him without hesitating, you always came to him no matter his state.. You were his… his everything. He wanted you to know that.
He softly took your hand in his and with a soft sigh, kissed the back of it. He kissed the back of your hand, once, twice.. before tugging you against him and kissing your lips avidly. He needed to feel you against him, you were alive, safely caged in his arms.
He laid you down on the floor as he kissed your neck, your cheeks, your lips. He couldn’t get enough of you. He felt like he was starving. You were panting, gripping his hair. Were you feeling like him? Like a starved monster? Did you feel the need to crawl inside him like he felt it with you? He wanted to molded into you. To become one with you.
After a few minutes, he stopped, panting against your chest. You were still gripping his hair. 
“ Don’t ever… Don’t ever do that again my dear…Don’t ever go somewhere I can’t find you...”
You hugged him, pressing his head against your warm chest. 
“ I promise.”
He sighed as you answered without messing a beat. Yes, he knew you would understand him. He could talk to you about him.. About his desires. But for now, you needed to rest. You laid him on the sofa and almost fell asleep immediately, but he couldn’t bear this image right now so he asked you to keep your eyes open for a little while. 
You tried so much to stay awake for his sake he couldn’t help but let you sleep. He didn’t sleep that night, he counted your breathing and your heartbeat. He counted them until you woke up the next morning as he was playing with your hair. 
You caressed his scars and then asked the questions he knew you would ask.
“ Who did this to you..?” 
Now, it was the time to show the monster he was inside. A monster that seemed to be tamed only for you but was craving to exist.
“ What is there to tell, dear? The man who owned the title of being my father had my mother pregnant, he wanted to be a perfect man so he married her.  It was a gamble that failed. I was born and he would beat me or my mother if we were acting a little too “ black” for him, with his belt, his fists, cold water and so many other things. He teached me how to hunt, how to kill, how to hurt… I know so many things that would make you run away from me, my dear friend…” he hugged you tighter, waiting for you to ask about the things that would make you run away but once more you surprised him.
“ I hope he dies during the war.”
He almost moaned at your sentence. He stared at your face, trying to see if there was something darker lurking inside you. It was a gamble he didn’t want to risk but… 
“ And if I told you I didn’t wish for him to be killed during war?”
He couldn’t help but grinned as you began to explain how he shouldn’t be sorry for his parents, that his father should get killed the worst way possible. You were perfect. He kissed you hungrily, your word of death against his father brought him such joy.
“ Aah.. Darling, you are…” he sighed in bliss as he dug his nails into your waist.” What if.. What if I told you I didn't want him to be killed because..” he stared at you a moment before speaking again.”  I want to be the one to kill him.”
You didn’t seem disgusted by the idea. Shocked, yes, but not screaming at him how it wasn’t a good idea. You seemed a little lost but weren’t against his idea.
“ Don’t see him as living being my dear, he isn’t worth the title. Think of it.. Like I’m going to hunt a dangerous animal that needs to be put down. I’m just like your ideal Prince charming , aren’t I? Killing dangerous people for his loved one?” He tilted his head with a soft smile, he remembered when you were younger you were bragging about the prince charming killing his enemies to save the princess, it was the same right now. 
“ How would you kill him?” you asked, curiously. 
Oh how he adored you. He kissed your face multiple times before going on about how he was going to kill his father. He's been thinking about it forever.
And then you told him you would be by his side if needed. He felt like he could cry and laugh at the same time. You were accepting him. Fully. You were accepting him, Alastor and the demon that was within himself. You were accepting them both.
“ Dearest, once I have killed my father,” you hummed while he took your hand in his. “ Would you marry me? ” he stared at you, waiting for your answer, caressing your trembling hand. 
His eyes were shaking but he kept his gaze on you, observing your reactions. 
“ Would you accept my mad affection?”
And you said yes. You were happy giving up on a normal life by chaining yourself to him. But he needed more, he was always greedy with you. He needed a bond that transcended human’s mind. So he talked about his discovery about voodoo and talked about soul bounding. 
You didn’t even wait to consider his offer, you accepted it once more.
You decided to damned yourself with him. 
You ran to the kitchen to take a knife to cut you, so you and him would be bonded together forever. Even death wouldn’t be able to tear you apart. He felt like he was flying, he was feeling so light. You would hurt yourself for him if it means staying with him. 
If he could, he would tear out his heart to give it to you. 
You were his.
His future wife.
His partner in crime.
You would be his happy ending.
“ Happy birthday Alastor!” 
He smiled as everyone cheered for him. There was you, sitting next to him, Alyzée, Mimzy, Alice, Victor and some extras at the table. He was now 23. How time flies. 
He was beaming as the attention was on him. He told everyone about his new job as a radio host which made you cheer the loudest. Of course his future wife would be the most delighted. He couldn’t wait to tell you his father was back home. 
Would you be excited? Nervous? Happy? Oh, he couldn’t wait to share the news with you.
At 3am you decided to go home, so he walked you back to your house. Before saying goodbye he kissed the back of your hand and shared that oh so delicious news.
You smiled widely at him before cupping his face and kissed him. He couldn’t help himself; he pinned you against the front door as he demanded you to open your mouth so he could devour you.
You were just as eager as him. His prey was coming back home.
You would soon be bound to him. 
He step back as he heard you panted his name. You were asking for his plan. You were asking about his plan to kill someone. He must be the luckiest man in all New Orleans, no doubt about it. He asked to come meet him in a week, he needed to see if his bastard had been changed by the war or not. Depending on that information, he would kill him differently.
He kissed your forehead before going back home with a smile so wide he almost didn’t recognize himself in a shop’s vitrine. How odd… He almost thought he saw his eyes reddened. 
He observed his father for a whole week. The bastard hasn't changed at all, he was just more full of himself than before the war. Perfect, he knew how he would kill him, he just needed to share it with you.
When you came to his house, he took you in his bedroom and gave you a hunting outfit, before tugging you toward the woods with two guns. You seemed confused about his hunting game but it was mostly because he wanted to catch you. A revenge for his younger self who hasn’t ever been able to catch you once you were running from him.
He explained the rules to you and you seemed excited by the game. Perfect. He waited 10 minutes after you entered the woods before going inside himself. He knew those woods like the back of his hand, he could see where you ran, where you began to walk… 
He walked toward the bushes where he could see the rifle he had given you. Were you hiding in the bushes? He waited a few seconds then smirked. He knew you couldn’t stay still for more than 3 minutes, that meant you had tried to bait him. He felt a shiver in his spine, you were playing the game like a champ! But he could hear your breathing behind the tree, right here.
“ Very intelligent darling, I almost fell for it.” He pointed his weapon toward your direction. “ But now, you are harmless.”
You step out from the tree, walking toward Alastor with a cute faked pout. He smirked, were you giving up?  But then you threw the paint’s bullet and smashed one on his weapon. 
“ Now, you are harmless too, right?” you taunted him as he stared at you with his eyes wide open. His smile was getting bigger and bigger, you were so…entrancing. He moved his hand to cup your cheek but you ran from him. Again..
But this time,unlike when he was younger, he could run as fast as you, he could run faster than you. His smile widened as he tackled you on the ground.  You were his favorite prey, a prey he would never kill but that he would always run after. Seeing your surprised expression was so worth it.
“ Caught you.” 
He had waited to say those words to you. He had caught you, he had trapped you with him. Through a wedding, through a voodoo curse. Your soul and his were tangled in a way that nobody could separate you.
“ Now, what about the plan?” you asked eagerly. He smirked. You were always the one asking first about the plan about killing his father, were you aware of that? After planning a plan, you asked the question he was dying to answer.
“ When will it happen ?”
“ Tonight, dearest.”
He was waiting for you to ask for more time, but you just nodded, ready to start your first sin together. 
He went back home with you, you were so nervous you decided to take a nap in his bedroom while holding Eamon. He went to check on you and approached your sleeping form. He looked at the fawn.
“ Protect her tonight.”
He went out to cut wood, thinking about all the possibilities that could happen tonight. He was so excited, were you feeling like him? He snapped back in reality when he heard Husker hissing at him. He stared at the cat who hissed at him before looking toward his home. Huh.. He went back inside and almost bit his lips until blood would drip. His father was standing too close to you, and from your expression, he must have said something that you didn’t like.
“ Father, are you ready for our hunting session?”  Alastor asked with his usual smile, observing your body relaxing at his voice. He took the rifle from the wall and put them on the table. He looked at you before going into the kitchen with his father. What was it called..? Tragic irony was it? His father was talking about the people he had killed during the war although he was going to get killed tonight. How funny.
He looked at you as you entered the kitchen. You weren’t wearing your necklace. Why? As he walked next to you to follow his father into the living room so he could take the weapon, you held his hand while showing him your neck.
Hah, You must have used your necklace to show him which one was the gun he should choose. How clever.
“ Are you coming boy, I don't have all night long!”
“ I know, Father.” You won’t be seeing the sun tomorrow.
He took his weapon with your necklace around it. It felt like you would be with him during his vengeance. How sweet.
He left his house to walk toward the woods with his father. One last hunting session. Two men. But only one hunter and one prey.
“ You really grew up, Alastor.” he turned his head toward his father as they kept walking deep into the forest. “ You’ve even found a little accomplice.” He kept his smile but furrowed his eyebrows. What was he talking about?
His father pointed his rifle toward nowhere and shot. Alastor froze. Why was his father’s weapon armed? He knew you would never betray him. So that meant, his father knew about his plan? How?
Before he could speak, his father hit him in the face with the back of his weapon. He didn’t know why but he felt like he was back at 8 years old, where he couldn’t do anything against his father. He was still alone. He let his father drag him into the woods. He was staring at the sky. 
“ Did you really think I wouldn’t check my gun, boy? You really should have gone to war, maybe you would learn some things or two.” he said as threw him on the floor. He looked at his father as he pointed the rifle against his forehead. Mhn, was he going to die here? No chance. He knew that he wasn’t alone anymore, you were waiting for him at home. So it was better for him to play the weak boy his father was seeing in him before turning the tables around. 
His father kept talking about how he was a disgrace. He was waiting for the perfect timing but then he saw movement. Damn it, if people were to see this scene, it would be annoyingly difficult to explain. He quickly looked on the side and froze.
It was you.
You were walking quietly toward his father with a knife in your hand, never letting your eyes drift away from the man's back. Now, what would you do? If you were to stab his father, he would pull the trigger and kill him on the spot. He wouldn’t be mad at you of course, but he didn’t wish to be killed by his father.
But once again, you surprised him by helding the blade against his father’s throat, taking away his father’s attention from him.
Then, everything went down quickly.
The bastard elbowed you on the nose, making you fall on the snow with a blessing nose. He almost snapped when he saw his father pointed his weapon toward you. He tackled him on the floor, wrestling him, trying to take the rifle back. He didn’t expect the war to help his father in being better at fighting, he thought the coward would hide himself under his camarades’s corpses.
His father kicked him off him, and was ready to shoot him but you jumped on the weapon, putting the rifle’s head toward the ground. Were you aware you were screaming?
“ Just die already !”
He felt your scream in his soul. You were screaming out loud what his younger self was thinking. He stood up once he saw his father punching you, but before he could shoot him, you raised your knife and sank it into his father’s tights. 
“ Don’t hurt him anymore!” you cried as you raised your knife once more and plugged it into his thighs once more.  
Don’t hurt us anymore. Said his younger self.
His father hit you with the rifle, making you fall into the snow once more. You stood up quickly and jumped on him, raising your knife once more. Alastor paled as he saw his father trying to headshot you, but you were so deep into bloodlust that you weren’t even aware of it. You both needed to calm down. Alastor ran toward you and tackled you on the ground, sighing in relief when he heard the gunshot hitting nobody.
Alastor stood up just before taking the knife of your hand. He would fight his father with your knife, from what he heard, his father was out of bullets, he already used two of them.
“ You little cunt. Stabbing me like you had the right.” spat his father. You stood up quickly next to Alastor who was breathing as hard as you. “ Killing you will be the easiest thing I've ever done. After fucking your mother, of course, right Alastor?”
He felt something snapped inside his mind.
He ran toward him, with a smile so wide he wondered if that was blood of saliva dripping down his chin. He avoided his father’s punches like a dance he had learned by heart. He still got touched by his fists but it was nothing he wasn’t used to. He managed to cut his father on his cheeks or his forearms. He needed to cut a tendon so he wouldn’t be able to move his muscles. He was breathing hard while his father seemed more in his element and the bastard easily disarmed him of his knife. Stupid war training.
He saw you behind his father with your necklace. That meant you have found his gun, you must have put it somewhere behind him so he could easily take it. He punched his father with much more force which sended him stumbling toward you. What were you trying to do?
He felt his heart skip a bit.
With the necklace he had given you for Christmas, you were strangling his father, forcing him to walk backward, trying to grab the thing that was bruising his neck. He needed to act fast. He began to punch his father in the face as you forced the bastard to bend his neck for him to be able to breathe. You were perfect.
With a roar, his father punched him so hard he fell backward. Fuck, he needed to stand up quickly before the bastard touched you. He looked behind him and smiled cunningly, his gun was there. You really did put the gun not too far away from him. You were just as clever as him.
He turned his head toward you when he heard you scream. He thought you were being hit but you were clawing at his father, biting him, trying to hurt him as much as he hard hurt his younger self. He took the rifle and pointed toward his father as the bastard threw you on the snow.
“ Don’t move, Father.”
But of course, the devil had his tricks too. He held you against his chest, his arms against your throat. Alastor grimaced as he saw his father kiss your cheeks. He will kill him. How dared he touch you? 
He will kill him, kill him, killhimkillhimkillhim
He was shaking from anger, he couldn’t let you die. He needed to find a plan quickly. The devil was beginning to strangle you from behind. He was ready to throw his weapon in the snow  but then you did something amazing.
You tore off one of the bastard’s eyes.
Those eyes who would look at him with disdain, disgusted, you tore one off. And you didn’t stop there, like a punishment coming from heaven you jumped on his father and began to hit him repeatedly with a rock you found. Alastor walked toward you as you kept screaming, he felt like you were doing what he couldn't do anymore. Letting it all out. 
You were beautiful. A vengeful spirit.
His father pushed you off but you were already getting ready to finish him so he stopped you with a hand against your shoulder. Would you recognize him in your blinding fury?
“ Alastor…” you said in relief. He stared at your bloodied face, you were absolutely beautiful. He couldn’t help himself, he kissed you tenderly, trying to send you his thanks through the kiss. The kiss tasted like blood.
The kiss tasted like a victorious future for the both of you.
“ You crazy bitch!” the man spat as he tried to stand up. Alastor walked calmly toward the man with his knife and his gun.  He stood in front of his father with a scary smile before dropping to his knees, and began to stab his father multiple times while laughing as the man was screaming in pain. He couldn’t stop laughing, he was careful not to sink the knife too deep, it would be a shame to kill him too quickly. Should he give his father the same scars he had given him? Should he cut his tongue so he couldn’t say such disgusting words against him or his mother?
He felt your hand on his shoulder and looked as you sat next to him. You were like a fallen angel, all bloodied, surrendered by bloodied snow. Were you aware of the effect you had on him right now?
Alastor held you the knife.
“ Would you like to try my darling?”
“ I tore his eye off, I think I’m good.” you laughed, rolling your eyes, not even caring about the man’s moans of pain.
“ Oh right, it was an amazing sight, why don’t you give it to me?” he held his palm to you and you gladly gave him his father’s eyes. “ What do we say, an eye for an eye?” he laughed as he stared at the eyeball. Maybe he will keep it as a souvenir.
“ You.. both are bat shit crazy..” spat his father underneath him. Alastor hummed before leaning toward his father’s face with a grin almost too big for his face. 
“ You should smile more, Father, you only die once after all!” he said as he began to carve a smile into his father’s skin.  The man was screaming from the pain and he couldn’t help but giggled. How pathetic, he didn’t remember screaming when his father was beating him. He felt strong like this, but as he was ready to finish his father off, he almost felt vulnerable. Would you stay with him as he kills his father?You were watching him as his worst, but that's what he was. You kissed his cheek, making him chuckle. Seems like yes, you knew what you were choosing. “ Now, you look ready for your final moments!” He stood up and took his rifle, pointing it to his father’s forehead.
“ What would your parents think, lady?” his father spat as he stared at you with his only eyes.
“ I don’t know what my parents are thinking, but Marie thanked me for taking care of the trash.” you smiled sweetly at him before standing up, next to Alastor. Alastor was staring at you, did his Mother know about his plan? 
 “ Go to hell.. Both of you…”
“ We’ll see you there then. And you better hide yourself, I can’t wait to kill you once more.” you smiled as you put your hand around Alastor's, the one ready to shoot. You stared softly at Alastor. You were his everything, you accepted to fall in hell with him. But just like he promised you, he will catch you.
“ Darling, will you marry me?”
“ With pleasure.”
And then you both pulled the trigger.
Tag List: @lukneetoonz @martinys-world @littlepoetnova @sirens-and-moonflowers @eris-norwega @tiredflame132 @mo-0-o @vvollerie @sodavizz @boogiemansbitch @tessemerick @slytherin4ever @kammsinn @alastorssimp @t0xic1vi @diamond-almond @fangirlbitch02 @saccharine-nectarine @thenorthnightingale @bibliophile-yomna @itzjustj-1000 @mothraantics @yourdoorisunlocked @phamtasic @karmakillz @holographicage @sarcastic-sourwolf @akuraluna2468 @everwolf-20 @thesunandmoons-blog @songbrita Please tell me if I forget to tag you.
386 notes · View notes
saphiccarma · 17 days ago
Text
- The Red Means I Love You
Relationships - Mob Boss!WandaNat x Reader
Summary - Natasha and you have some fun before a rather serious trip to the Danvers' estate.
Warnings: Smut. Side character death. lemme know if i missed any
A/N: I lowkey hate this chapter, but i've rewritten it several times and this was the best one so here you go.
Pt.1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3
You soon learned that the woman who held a knife to your neck was named Rio. More commonly known as Lady Death. Her reputation was one that you had heard whispers of from Kate and Yelena, sometimes Bucky, but you never bothered to question it. She was one of the most renowned killers in the mob network, hence her name. Rather than using a gun, she used a knife, a custom-made one that had her initials carved onto it, yet no one knew her last name.
She was even more of an enigma than Natasha. Rio worked for Agatha, the latter being the brains with Rio as the brawn. She executed the kills all according to plan. To your understanding, they were the biggest threat to Wanda and Natsha.
Wanda had deduced it to that pretty quickly, letting you know one night you were over. Rio was married to Agatha, who was Wanda's ex. Sort of. You weren't given the whole story, but Agatha used Wanda while she was with Rio- it was a whole complicated mess you didn't bother to remember.
It was then you learned there were four major groups in this world. They all had their specialties and together would be unstoppable but remained divided. There was Natasha and Wanda's, your personal favorite, and the most powerful. Natasha excelled in combat. Then there was Agatha, which Kate playfully called 'the witches'. They were known for their trickery. Stark was known for his money. Danvers for her skill in trade, able to get anything from anywhere.
Every group specialized in something but were also good at everything. They had to be.
The main thing you retained from that conversation was that Rio and Agatha were dangerous, enough so that made Natasha the slightest bit concerned. It was hard to tell with her, Natasha always had a perfect mask slipped over her face.
Whether it was the mask of the of a perfect girlfriend who was composed and careful, but also sweet and caring. Who woke you up with a kiss on the forehead and a warm cup of coffee while she got dressed for work.
 Or if it was the hard, cold persona she wore when directing her people around, voice collected and stern. With a no-nonsense attitude and if you dared to test her, you would regret it.
At home when she was just the slightest bit whiney with her wife, hiding cheeky smiles behind her hand and being a brat, but those moments were few and far between. It didn't matter what mask she wore, there was always one and you had no idea who the real Natasha was.
But, there were little cracks in her mask, parts of her personality that were present in each of her personas. They were hardly noticeable, but you had learned to pick up on them over the months.
The little furrow of her brow when she was concerned and the way her lips twisted down into a scowl. There were little things you had begun to notice over the course of your time with her that helped you find the real her.
And now, you could tell she was pissed, anger radiating off her like a furnace. It was the subtle tilt of her chin as she cupped her chin. Her fingernails, freshly painted a deep red, dug into her cheek as she feigned interest. A man sat in front of her desk, rambling frantically in a thick Italian accent and gesturing wildly with his hands and making absurd facial expressions. He had been brought in by Kate, who claimed that he was waiting outside her apartment when she woke up.
None of the pieces clicked into place as you stood off the side, arms crossed, and listened to him talk. It was hard to keep up, but you picked up little pieces. He had worked for Stark, in the tech department, and was kidnapped some time ago. Not all his sentences were coherent, and you had to string some pieces of jumbled words together. He was held by someone, but he had no idea who.
"Stop," Natasha ordered, holding her hand up, "You are telling me that you work for Stark and were kidnapped?"
"Yes," the man nodded, his Italian accent dripping from his words. He seemed completely oblivious to Natasha's tight tone.
"What happened while you were being held captive?"
He flinched at her words and hands twisted together on top of the desk. Leaning forward, the man tipped his face forward and glanced around as if he were about to share a big secret, "Money," he whispered, "'Stop Stark's money, work day and night." His English wasn't very good.
Natasha hummed, her hand moving to fold in her lap, but not before gesturing vaguely towards the door. You took the hint, moving from your spot, and grabbing the man by the arm. He spluttered, his arms flying wildly as he tried to return to his seat, but you held firm. Dragging him towards the door, you yanked it open, toeing it the rest of the way with your foot. Kate and Yelena stood outside, chatting casually as you tossed him towards them.
Yelena caught him with a smirk, and no words were exchanged as they took him away. You didn't bother asking, Yelena knew you well and knew her sister even better, she would know what to do with him without asking. Kate gave you a playful salute and you returned it with a small before shutting the door again and meandering back over to Natasha's desk.
Her signature "pissed off" look had disappeared, the furrow in her brows were smoothed out and she was smiling faintly. Rounding her desk as Natahsa pushed her chair back slightly, you sat on it, leaning against the hard wood.
"What happened to him?" You mused, your gaze drifting off the side, "Who took him?" Your hands were shoved in your pockets, fidgeting with a stray string that was loose. While you worried over what he wanted, why he came to Natasha instead of Stark, you completely missed the look on Natasha's face. Your mind was swirling with all the possibilities. None of it made sense.
Before you had time to ponder it more, Natasha grabbed you by the collar tugging you down and planting a firm kiss onto lips. After letting out a surprised yelp, you melted into her lips and her hands tugged you down further until you fell to your knees and now Natasha was the one leaning down.
"It's been a long day," she whispered, against your lips.
You caught onto her innuendo pretty quick, your own lips curling into a smirk as you sank further into the floor and ignoring the harsh way the wood dug into your skin. Gripping onto the hem of her pants, you tugged them down and she lifted her hips to help, her boxers coming with. You slipped further under her desk as Natasha spread her legs and slid forward. Tentatively, you placed a soft kiss on her thigh. Her skin was soft, a few scars littering it from over the years and you lingered on those spots for longer, being sure to suck enough to leave a new mark. Trailing your lips up and so close to where you knew she wanted you, before skipping right over it and moving to the other thigh, your teeth grazing her skin.
Before you had a chance to continue, Natasha hand was yanking on your hair, shoving your face into her heat.
"Don't fucking tease," she hissed, pushing you further into her and holding you there. Her thighs bracketed your head, and you poked your tongue out, running it through her folds. You moaned at the taste of her, the vibrations causing her to let out a moan of her own. Your tongue circled her clit, and you latched your lips onto it, lightly sucking. Natasha's hand tightened in your hair, but her thighs loosened their grip around your head.
It allowed you to hear her moans all the more and the soft whines she let out. Grazing your teeth against her clit and sucking even harder and her sounds were music to your ears, only egging you on further as your tongue swirled. Your hand came up and you inserted two fingers, slowly pumping in and out as you played with her clit. Her hands tugged on your hair as you picked up pace, not exactly harsh but not gentle either.
You could feel her thighs start trembling as your fingers curled just right and you pumped in and out, your tongue swirling around her clit and lips wrapped tightly. She let out a sound that was a mix of a groan and whine. Slyly you looked up at her through her lashes, and her eyes were screwed tightly shut, head thrown back and mouth parted. The sight spurred you on even more, and with one more tight suck and curl of your fingers, Natasha was cumming all over you.
Her hips bucked into your face as her orgasm washed over her and you lapped up all her juices greedily. Natasha whined as she came down from her high and you didn't stop. As she pushed your face away, you matched her whine, giving her a pleading look. Laughing softly at your pouty lips, Natasha tapped your cheek and smoothed down your ruffled hair, not that it helped much. She reached down, and for a brief second you hoped she was going to pull you up into her lap, but instead she just tugged her pants up.
Then her foot slid in between your legs, the tip of her boot pressing right up against your core. You whined, pressing down on her shoe desperately, hoping for some help, but she only smirked down you.
"You're not getting any help with this one, pretty girl," She smiled, mocking and cruel, "You wanted to try and tease.” A loud whine escaped your lips before you could stop it, but all Natasha did was laugh softly.  
Your hands found her knees for purchase, using them to keep you steady as you bounced up and down on her shoe. The hard tip of it was right up where you needed it, and yet it wasn't enough. Frantically, you ground down, searching for friction that Natasha wouldn't give and you let out a needy whine. She ignored you, instead leaning further back and crossing her arms, a sinister smirk planted on her lips as she watched you whine and squirm beneath her.
It hardly registered in your head when the door was opened, Wand sauntering in. She raised an unamused eyebrow at the situation, but didn't say anything about it.
"I talked to that man, says there was a gold star on the door of the basement he was being kept in, and only one person brands themselves with gold stars," There was a proud tone to Wanda's words. Natasha’s foot jerked upwards and you let out a startled yelp. "Let's pay Danvers a visit, shall we?"
You had just started to find a good pace, aside from Natasha’s sudden disruption, and the coil in your stomach tightening when Natasha's foot pulled away. Keeping loudly, you pouted up at her and tugged on her hands.
She offered you a smile of faux pity, "Sorry sweet girl, we have stuff to do."
^________________^
You were rather sulky as you trailed behind Wanda and Natasha, Bucky and Yelena standing next to you. All three of you were in standard clothing for tactical outings like these, but Wanda and Natasha were dressed rather elegantly. Your core throbbed with need from being left wanting, but you shoved that away for the sake of focusing, even though it was hard.
You were approaching a large building and as you got closer a gold star was carved onto the door. It was a nice house, with a grey tiled roof and a dark door, but there were scarcely any windows. Bucky signaled for you to hold back, and you obeyed, hand moving to rest on your gun, ready to tear it out at a moment’s notice. Smoothing down the front of her shirt for invisible wrinkles, Natasha kicked open the door, not caring if it was unlocked.
"Danvers!" she called, "We have some problems!"
A woman rounded the corner, dressed in black slacks and a pale colored blouse, star earrings dangling from her ears. Blonde hair was pulled back into a half-ponytail, the rest falling just above her shoulders. She raised a brow. Annoyance was written all over her face, yet her posture said otherwise. Hands tucked into her pockets and shoulders slouched, you would’ve guessed that she was seeing friends.
"Romanoff. Nice to see you too." Danvers smiled coyly, the edges of it sharp and fake. She tipped her head inwards, "Have a seat?"
Cautiously, you followed as she led your group into a room where a couple of others were waiting. Both men. One short and a little chubby, the other tall and lanky, complete opposites. Your hand tightened on your gun.
There were two plush couches, both a pale shade of blue with a white carpet settled beneath them. It hardly matched the aesthetic of the rest of the room, but who were you to judge? Your apartment was crap before you joined Natasha.
"You were expecting us," Wanda's voice cut through the tension, her voice silky smooth. Danvers smirked, nodding and gestured towards the couch. Wanda and Natasha took delicate seats across from Danver as you stood behind them, Bucky and Yelena at your side. "You kidnapped a man."
Shrugging, Danvers waved her hand, "We all have."
Bucky tapped your arm and you dropped your hand from your gun, albeit reluctantly and with a glare. He nodded in approval before fixing his gaze straight across the room, almost robotic.
"You kidnapped one of Stark's men. Why?"
If you watched close enough, you could see surprise flicker across Danvers' face, just barely there and hardly noticeable. It was the slight part of her lips that gave her away. Rather than admitting to her confusion, Danvers shrugged casually.
"I needed his help." She stared at her nails, seemingly unfazed by the two intimidating women across from her.
Natasha's jaw clenched with frustration, "With?"
"You think I would just give that to you?" Danvers laughed, "That's cute. What will I get in return?"
For a brief moment, Natasha pretended to think about it, before she snapped her fingers. Bucky had his gun out before you could blink and shot one of the people at Danvers' side. Blood splashed on the furniture and spilled out on the white carpet as the person dropped dead. The three women were unphased by it as Danvers leaned closer, her chin resting on her hand.
"You think that's going to convince me?" Her gaze drifted over to you, eyes scanning you up and down, "I'll take her."
Your heart froze in your ribcage as you processed her words and any reply you had caught in your throat. Anxiously, you glanced at Natasha. Would she actually give you up?
"No." She said firmly, shaking her head, "She's not for sale." The anxiety that had began coursing through your veins, red hot, cooled at her words and you let out a silent exhale.
The blonde woman hummed, her eyes trailing over you once more before returning to Natasha. You tried to ignore the man that was still bleeding all over the carpet, his blood staining it a deep red, and yet no one seemed to care. It was as if he had never died.
Natasha and Danvers seemed to be having a silent conversation, words unsaid yet understood. Eventually, Danvers sighed and leaned back into her chair.
"I don't have the information you want Romanoff, I'm not the right source. Try Agatha, I've been hearing some rumors about her lately." She cast a fleeting glance to the dead man on the floor, "And next time, don't kill anyone for show please? It'll be a pain to clean up."
Their casualty with death baffled you. A man was dead, just like that. He could have had a family, a wife, kids. Or maybe a sister, or maybe- Who knows. Granted, most people wouldn't be here if they had something worth living for. But you didn't want to be here and was dragged into this whole mob business because of your father and Natsha threatened your mother. You hadn't seen her in forever and she was probably worried sick.
Natasha stood from the couch, flashing Danvers a predatory smile that was all teeth, before leaving. The rest of you followed after her obediently, but even after you left, you couldn't stop your mind from wandering to the dead body and how no one seemed to care.
^______________^
You lay in bed with Natasha and Wanda, both on either side of you. You were spread across their laps, feet in Wanda's as she trailed her nails up and down your ankles, and Natsha carded her hands through your hair. Sighing in content, you were grateful for the moment of peace, even though you knew it was brief.
A show was on the TV but you were hardly paying attention. Two deaths in just a few days. The first  was the first time you had ever killed, but you knew it wouldn't be the last. Just thinking about it made your stomach churn again and bile rise in your throat.
"Do you ever get used to the death?" you blurted, regretting the question the moment it left your mouth.
Wanda's hand tightened on your ankle like a chain, but you found it grounding as Natasha looked down at you, her lips pursed.
She shrugged, "Yeah. Some of them still hurt, but you'll get used to it. You have to in this business." She said the words so casually, unaware that you were having an entire internal debate over it. How could she not care? Killing was taking someone else's life and who was she, or you, to decide whether someone lived or died? It wasn't your place. Still, Natasha killed left and right, seemingly uncaring for the lives she took and unbothered by the consequences they had.
Wanda traced a circle onto your ankle, "Close of your heart," she whispered, "As movie like that sounds, it helps."
You swallowed thicky, but nodded, training your eyes onto the TV. Close your heart.
Taglist: @macaroni676 @gaylorvader @ashadash0904 @sunshine-makes-flowers-grow @wolfangnight @rosekjsses
106 notes · View notes
joejhang · 2 months ago
Text
my aftg hot takes
most of these are pretty lukewarm but i'm gonna get flamed for them anyway but whatever. spoilers ??? ahead ??? idk read at ur own risk
i don't think andreil ever say i love you to each other; i feel like the discourse about this is virtually endless ever since nora said it but honestly her explanation was so valid??? they're such a show not tell couple it just makes so much sense for them to show the "i love you" in their actions than ever saying the words out loud. esp bc neither of them have ever really heard those words and have them mean anything real or true or actually loving. personally i think their little percentages and the "i hate you"'s and kisses and keys mean more to them than an "i love you" ever could. i'm not a purist on this tho i do think i could visualise it happening maybe somewhere along the road i just think nora's explanation for this is very very in line with canon andreil.
i don't hate thea muldani; i've made a post abt this but basically my thoughts around her are literally just: she's a human being, and she's never gonna be perfect. i also find it very...interesting how the fandom likes to flame thea (an explicitly stated woman of colour) for being "problematic" and a "terrible person/character" when she doesn't act all that different from andrew, neil and kevin (white men) ??? idk it seems a little strange to me bc she seems pretty on par with them on whatever moral compass this batshit crazy fandom has decided to impose on these fictional and very much morally ambiguous characters. anyway go check out my post i go a lot deeper into thea's character and why she does a lot of things wrong but i don't rlly think she's deserving of the insane amounts of hate she gets in the fandom.
i don't think andreil ever get married; this MIGHT be me projecting bc the idea of marriage is just a very complicated and rough concept in my mind but also just i feel like there's something so beautiful about andreil never really putting a label on their relationship??? like they never define it by calling the other their "boyfriend" or "husband" they just are. they have nothing "concrete" binding them like a marriage certificate but they choose to stay with each other through everything. idk it's real to me but again i'm not a purist people can do whatever they want.
i've said it before but i'll keep saying it till enough people hear me: the aftg fandom mischaracterises literally the main fucking characters; i'm mostly talking about andrew and ESPECIALLY neil here bc neil is not a sweet, sunshiney, oblivious, blushy softboy and andrew is not a cold, unemotional, stoic, "conceal don't feel" stone. since i've already bitched on and on about neil's mischaracterisation let's just talk about andrew for a sec. i think andrew is actually a deeply emotional person and is fully aware of the feelings he experiences. does he vocalise or express them often? no but more often than not they show themselves anyway. him crashing out after neil was kidnapped, letting himself get walked like a dog by neil for three books straight, choking allison for slapping aaron, idk i could go on. but yeah you get it.
i don't actually think neil is that oblivious; before people come at me like "but nora said!" or whatever yeah, i know she said he's as dense as a brick when it comes to people flirting with him. considering how much of the ec the aftg fandom likes to disregard allow me to disregard this little bit of it, yeah? this isn't me tryna impose my own projections onto nora's characters, this is lit just me tryna explain how i understand neil josten (he's my bsf btw). he literally clocks his feelings for andrew in trk (after his deep convo™ with nicky) but he just files it away for later bc he doesn't consider attraction or romantic interest anything to be thinking about considering he's got the mafia and his serial killer dad on his tail. i also don't really blame him for not catching onto andrew's feelings earlier (tho doesn't he get pretty fucking close during that one convo they have in exites in trk???? someone correct me if i'm wrong but) bc dude andrew was out here sending fucking mixed ass signals like bro was saying "you are a pipe dream" and "i hate you" in the same fucking conversations like??? neil has always taken andrew at face value and he's not about to question him now. he's also never confused or uncertain about nicky or marissa and what their comments about him meant, he just genuinely does not gaf about them so he doesn't acknowledge them or pay them any attention in his narration. i truly truly think his dismissal of all the advances made upon him in aftg were borne out of indifference, not obliviousness.
have already said this in detail but i don't think andrew's actually a misogynist; the wording doesn't feel right. i'd probably describe andrew's distrust of women (esp. those in motherly/mother roles) as a similar ingrained wariness that neil has for older men. this is something borne out of trauma and shitty experiences that takes time and trust to unlearn. nora says a lot of things the fandom disregards and for me, this is one of those things i'm a little iffy about. misogyny actually isn't reflected in andrew's actions at all, i'd say. does he respect women? no. but he doesn't respect anyone unless they've actually earned it. and among the people he does respect and care for there are women (renee, bee). he doesn't treat women any differently and obv doesn't think they're any weaker than men are (considering renee wipes the floor w him their first sparring sesh). andrew's an equal opportunity hater and i don't think he actually has any sexist or even misogynistic tendencies. i think what is there is just a slightly biased worldview of disliking/mistrusting mother figures, given his bad experiences w tilda and cass (they've left him w more long-term emotional damage that's probably rlly difficult and complicated for him to work through esp considering cass did love??? him and he did want her enough to be willing to suffer dr*ke to be close to her; there's more to it but for the sake of word count i won't go into it) but honestly it doesn't actually show that much??? if people wanna say he hates women, sure, but for one, he doesn't hate a lot of things he's just very indifferent to them and two, he holds a pretty similar apathetic distaste for most people and things, so it's not like a very big distinction. i also think the whole "no girls" thing w aaron was very much a personal thing, and his mistrust of katelyn probably came from aaron's past (apparently negative) experiences w other girlfriends and friendships in general. and if i remember correctly the deal wasn't even "no girls" it was just "family only" which is why aaron didn't make friends w the rest of the foxes either. i digress but i don't think saying "andrew isn't a misogynist" is robbing him of any nuance as a character.
i like nicky and honestly feel similarly towards him as i do about thea; he isn't perfect and never will be and i think while the way he acts towards neil and others (see: matt, kevin) is pretty untoward and inappropriate, i also do see where he's coming from, esp after aaron's explanation of it. that it's a defence mechanism coming from someone who's experienced a lot of prejudice and harm because of his sexuality. obv i think everyone can agree his assault on neil was fucked up but i think nora was right in saying that nicky was high and drunk and not rlly in his right mind at the time, and he does apologise and i'm pretty sure she also said he and neil work it out privately anyway. he's a messy character and definitely not perfect queer rep but again, he's pretty realistic, and i think he's honestly a rlly well-written and complex character.
122 notes · View notes
bosbas · 1 year ago
Text
Chapter 11: if my wishes came true, it would've been you
series masterlist previous part || next part
Tumblr media
pairing: benedict bridgerton x best friend!fem!reader WC: 4.7k words
Warnings: period-typical gender roles, idiots in love being idiots in love, mutual pining
Summary: You and Benedict have been best friends since childhood, but things change dramatically once you come out in society. You’re struggling to find someone you’re as compatible with and who knows you as well as Benedict, all while trying to quell your ever-growing feelings for him. Shenanigans ensue.
Tumblr media
July 21, 1814 - In a rather interesting turn of events, Miss Y/N Beaumont was once more seen promenading on the arm of Anthony Bridgerton. It appeared that the two were quite happily chatting away, an increasingly common sight that comes after almost a month of barely any social appearances for our lady of the season. Was this just another friendly promenade, or could a romance be brewing between the two? Given the closeness of the two families, a union between them would be unsurprising. However, this author was most surprised that it was Anthony who decided to pursue Miss Beaumont rather than her long-time companion, Benedict.
"So you two are properly courting?" asked Hyacinth, shoving the latest Whisteldown column in both of your faces. You were sitting beside Anthony in the Bridgerton sitting room, your book set haphazardly on your lap after Hyacinth had barged in demanding answers.
"Something like that, yes," answered Anthony, grabbing the sheet of paper from her and skimming it over for where it mentioned you.
"What do you mean 'something like that'? You're either courting or you aren't, Anthony," came Hyacinth's exasperated response. You laughed softly at her impatience, understanding her frustration. You, at times, felt the same way. It was an unusual partnership, to be sure, but you were enjoying yourself thus far. You found you could attend social events again, not feeling any pressure to engage in conversation with slimy or uninteresting men.
"It means that I am attending balls again, Hyacinth. It also means that I can continue writing down detailed summaries of these balls and giving them to you the morning after," you said, hoping to distract her from asking any further questions about your courtship with Anthony.
And it seemed to have worked. Her face lit up, knowing you were the only person who currently attended balls that was kind enough, and attentive enough, to keep her informed about the goings on of the ton. She squealed and rushed to hug you, exclaiming "Thank you thank you thank you!!!" into your neck. You hugged her back, amused by her antics.
Suddenly, Hyacinth turned to Anthony, eyes narrowed. "You had better be a good suitor to Y/N. Will you be attending balls with her? And if so, will you be dancing with her? And will you be calling on her? Will you bring her flowers?" she interrogated. Hyacinth considered you to be one of the sweetest from the older bunch of Beaumont-Bridgertons. At least, you never made fun of her and you took her seriously enough that she could have grown-up conversations with you. So Hyacinth wanted to make sure that you were going to be properly courted by her brother. Truthfully, she had hoped you would end up with Benedict. She thought the two of you were in love, based on how he talked about you and how you looked at him, but she supposed she was too young to understand the more complicated aspects of romantic feelings, and perhaps she had misjudged whatever was going on between you and Ben. Nevertheless, she wanted at least one of her brothers to court you the way you deserved, especially after reading about the mostly unpleasant encounters you had with potential suitors thanks to your accounts of your evenings as a debutante.
Anthony patted Hyacinth on her head, laughing at her protectiveness. "Yes, I will be doing whatever Y/N would like me to do. Now run along, I've been attacked in my own home long enough." With a satisfied huff, Hyacinth ran out of the sitting room just as fast as she had come in, snatching Lady Whistledown's column out of Anthony's hand and taking it with her.
You smiled after her, shaking your head fondly. Anthony had let you take the lead on the speed and nature of your courtship, and you were more than grateful for the ability to choose the pace at which the two of you progressed. True to his word, he had not pressed you for an answer to his unusual proposal, and instead let you come to him once you were ready.
And sure enough, a week ago, you had made your way over to the Bridgerton household and asked to speak with Anthony privately. In the quiet of his study, you had accepted his proposal, finally laying to rest your dreams of spending the rest of your life with your best friend. It was a bittersweet moment for you. In a way, you felt relieved that you didn't have to pine after Benedict uselessly anymore, having a solid plan in place now and getting as close to what you wanted out of a marriage as possible, barring the possibility of romantic love. But a louder and more insistent part of you was feeling this loss to the bone. Loss of what you didn't know, since you and Ben had never been romantically involved, nor had you ever expected to marry him. Though you supposed a small part of you always held out some hope that Benedict might feel the same way about you as you did about him. That he also thought about you every night, laying in bed alone and wishing you could be in his arms. That the sketches of you and forehead kisses and endless pages of correspondence and hours spent talking together could mean more than just friendship. But in the end, you knew you had been foolish to think that two decades of friendship could be undone by a half-joking comment asking if he wanted to marry you.
Anthony, for his part, had been delighted, giving you an encouraging smile and a firm squeeze on your shoulder once he heard your final answer. He hadn't expected anything from you, of course, but he was happy that he could provide a solution that would benefit both of you. However, his proposal and your subsequent acceptance created a new challenge. Though you did intend to marry him, this wasn't what was usually considered a 'real' courtship, and you were hesitant to widely announce this fact to the gossip-hungry members of the ton.
"Anthony," you began, taking a seat opposite him. "I think we should discuss how we'll present this to the ton. I don't relish the idea of scandal, and I imagine neither do you."
"Mmm the pesky Lady Whistledown continues her reign of terror," hummed Anthony amusedly, shifting in his seat. "In all honesty, I believe any rumors would more negatively affect you, given the nature of our respective positions in society. I also know this is probably a more delicate situation for you than it is for me, so I'd be happy to go along with whatever you would like," said Anthony, sending you a sympathetic smile at the unspoken mention of Benedict.
Clearing your throat and ignoring the tightness in your chest, you pushed through your hurt. "Well, I think the most obvious question is of who we should tell. About the terms of our partnership, that is," you said, putting your hand on your chin and dreading the headache this whole ordeal would be. "I fear my mother might slit your throat and mine were she to find out that I am purposefully giving up on the possibility of a love match, especially after she told me repeatedly there's no rush," you said, looking up at Anthony with an apology in your eyes.
But he shook his head in response, "That's no bother, it is to be expected. I'm slightly scared my mother would react the same." You let out a snort at the thought of Anthony, at thirty years old, still scared of his mother. He rolled his eyes at you, knowing exactly why you were laughing at him, and continued speaking. "Regardless, I don't think we should tell anyone. We can be vague about our intentions and the specifics of our courtship until I propose publicly."
You nodded, trying to plan out that far ahead and feeling your heart speed up when you thought of Anthony on one knee proposing in front of other people. A real proposal this time. "Perhaps a month will be enough time? For it to be believable that we fell in love. That seems like a reasonable timeline, right?" you asked him, trying to imagine how long it might take you to fall in love with someone. Thinking back on your friendship with Benedict, you could recognize that you had been in love with him for years now, even if you didn't know it at the time. But you didn't have twenty years to fall in love with someone else, so a month with Anthony would have to do.
"Considering we've known each other two decades, I'm sure the ton would believe we were in love if we married tomorrow. It's our families we have to convince," Anthony reminded you. Because we all know you and Benedict are in love, he thought.
You nodded, thinking through all of your family members and their possible reactions to finding out you were marrying Anthony Bridgerton, of all people. If anything, they would probably expect Benedict to be the one to propose, no matter how absurd and impossible the idea was to you now. But this only made it more crucial that your courtship with Anthony was believable.
"I don't think we'll be able to convince Alex after the night we had in your study," you said finally. "Besides, it might be beneficial to have someone else on our side helping convince our families."
Although he seemed unsure, Anthony eventually conceded, letting out a grunt. "I'm inclined to agree. I could tell him later tonight at White's," he suggested. "We were planning on going with Colin and the twins but I'm sure I'll get a moment alone with him. It will probably be best to tell him earlier rather than later if I don't want a black eye," he joked, winking at you.
"Thank you," you answered gratefully. You weren't quite sure how Alexander would react to the news, knowing that you had just had your heart broken by Benedict and were now jumping into a partnership with his older brother, so you were happy Anthony offered to tell him instead of facing him yourself.
"So, how should we start courting?" you asked. "Well, not actually courting, but you know what I mean," you quickly corrected yourself.
Anthony smiled softly at you, understanding your need to specify that this wasn't a real courtship. Unlike you, he wasn't deeply in love with his best friend, so it was much easier for him to start pursuing someone, however real or fake it might be. But he knew that, at some level, you felt like you were betraying Benedict. Or at least betraying the feelings you had for him. At that moment, Anthony truly wished that Benedict would stop being a complete idiot. If not for Ben's own sake then to stop the absolute torment he saw in your eyes every time you thought of a future without your best friend.
"Ah, yes, our incredibly cunning ruse," Anthony responded, trying to keep his tone light. "I think we could probably start with a promenade a few days from now if you are amenable. It might be good to start with something a bit more casual," he said carefully.
"That's a good idea," you agreed. "Perhaps two days from now? It will give Alex enough time to digest the idea and I can mention to my mother that you asked if I wanted to get back into the social scene after such a long hiatus. I'm sure she'll be ecstatic enough to ignore the minor details."
Anthony nodded, already planning his speech to your older brother. "I can also start making off-handed comments around my family to really sell it," he suggested.
"Oh, that's perfect! I think we might just pull it off," you said, smiling at Anthony and feeling a weight lifted off your shoulders.
But Anthony could not relax yet. He cleared his throat uncomfortably, knowing you needed to address the issue of Benedict but also understanding that it was a relatively painful topic at the moment. After shifting in his seat slightly and receiving a quizzical look from you, he finally spoke up. "How would you like to tell Benedict?" he asked delicately.
You winced at the mention of his name. You had no idea, to be honest. How were you going to tell your best friend that you were marrying his brother? Saying it in person and having to see Benedict's reaction in person would be incredibly painful, but saying it in a letter would be worse, you reasoned. Especially since you had avoided any mention of potential suitors in your correspondence thus far, and were planning on continuing to do so. The letters exchanged between you were too precious, too intimate, to be ruined by the mention of one of your suitors. You stared at Anthony, resigned. "It would probably be better coming from me, wouldn't it?"
Anthony gave you a sympathetic smile. "I'm not trying to get out of doing it, I know this will be one of the most difficult parts. But I believe it'll be better if he hears this from you. He would be crushed if he found out you were getting married from anyone other than you."
You sat back in your seat, overwhelmed by the magnitude of what was to come. If Ben reacted negatively to your relationship with Anthony, you might never see him again. You were desperate to make the blow as soft as possible and preserve as much of your friendship with Ben as you could. "I suppose you're right. I want to tell him in person, though," you said, nervously playing with your fingers. You felt thick tears in your eyes at the realization that if Benedict were here right now, he would be the one rubbing your hand with his thumb as he usually did when you were anxious.
Sensing your inner conflict, Anthony jumped to provide you with a solution. "If you want our courtship to last for a month, that aligns almost perfectly with our country house party in Kent. It would make sense for Benedict to come to Aubrey Hall for the party anyway, and you could have some time alone with him to tell him."
You nodded, quickly blinking the tears from your eyes. It was a perfect plan, indeed. Everything fit together perfectly, you realized with a sinking feeling. You were still half-hoping that there would be a reason you couldn't go through with this, or a massive oversight as to why the plan wouldn't work. But it seemed to be foolproof. Even the painful bits were accounted for and Anthony had made them to be as painless as possible.
And so began the biggest deceit of your life. All things considered, it was good fun. You and Anthony had decided to see each other four times per week, attending a minimum of two balls together and promenading once. Although it had only been a week, you found yourself enjoying the change of pace. You could now attend balls without having to interact with any desperate bachelors vying for your hefty dowry. What's more, Anthony had been bringing you a bouquet after every ball, which served to placate your mother above all else.
Even promenading with Anthony was enjoyable, seeing as the two of you understood each other quite well. It was nothing compared to how deeply Benedict understood you, or how engaging discussions were with him, but Anthony was miles ahead of anyone besides Ben. After only a week of courting, you found yourself better able to think about Benedict without dissolving into a puddle of tears, desperately wondering whether or not he was thinking of you while in the countryside. Your letters to him became less painful and more frequent, as you were able to push through your debilitating love for him and just enjoy speaking about art and literature.
As time went on, you were growing more and more confident that you had made the right decision, especially now that Lady Whistledown had written about your courtship, as Hyacinth had so kindly informed you. Whistledown's words were gospel to the people of polite society, so her mention of the two of you helped cement the validity of your budding relationship. Hopefully both your families would follow the rest of the ton and accept that Anthony, and not Benedict, was the one you were spending the majority of your time with now.
Although you had hoped Alex would help you in this endeavor, he had been unyieldingly silent on the matter. The day after Anthony explained your plan to him at White's, he came into your room and informed you that he knew what you and Anthony were doing. You had expected him to show at least some form of emotion, but he had simply said that he would not stand in your way and walked right out without any further discussion. Even now, a week later, he refused to talk about it with you, immediately changing the subject or just outright leaving the room when the matter of you and Anthony came up in conversation. You were disappointed, feeling like you were living a lie in and out of your home, but you supposed it was for the best. You could sacrifice talking to someone who knew the whole story for the assurance that none of your family would find out the truth. Especially not your mother.
---
As you looked out of your window to the beautiful grounds of Aubrey Hall, your mind couldn't help but drift to Benedict's latest letter. His reply had been short, which was to be expected given that you had asked him to return from the countryside to meet your future husband. Writing the letter had been almost physically painful, but you knew it was necessary. You could only hope that the tears on the paper were not too noticeable once they reached Ben.
After nearly a month of faking a courtship with Anthony, you were much more well-adjusted when it came to talking and thinking about Benedict. But a month was nowhere near long enough to quell the now all-encompassing love you had spent years growing. You didn't think you could ever stop loving Benedict, not entirely anyway. He was your Benedict, and he would be forever. You had grown up so intertwined in one another that he was as much a part of you as you were yourself. The love you felt for him was not a feeling, exactly, but more of a part of your identity. And it was all good and fun until you had to give that up to be with someone else. Though Anthony, bless him, was making it as easy for you as he could. He expected nothing more than what you were willing to give, and you couldn't thank him enough. It had been surprisingly easy to fall into a partnership with him, not feeling the undue stress of having to promptly get over Benedict that you had felt with all of your other suitors.
Your thoughts were interrupted as Theo and Bastian knocked on your door, barging in when you opened the door just a fraction. They ignored your exasperated sigh, opting instead to sit on your bed. Seeing Bastian's shoe-clad feet on your white bedding incited an anger in you that only your brothers knew how to elicit. But your murderous intentions were cut short by Theo's question.
"So, will Benedict be joining us?"
Your heart skipped a beat as you gazed from one twin to the other, trying to gauge the intention of their question. Seeing your anxious eyes, Theo rushed to explain. "We only wanted to check because... you know... yeah," he finished lamely.
"Because what?" you demanded, slightly put off by what they were implying. Thus far, your family had abstained from mentioning Benedict when speaking about your courtship with Anthony. Although they had been visibly shocked by the idea at first, they had now grown used to seeing you with Anthony instead of Benedict and it had become somewhat of the norm. Except perhaps for Cass, who was still young and a hopeful romantic. You knew she secretly still wished that Ben would return from the countryside in some kind of grand romantic gesture that would sweep you off your feet. Unfortunately, you simply couldn't afford to think that way for your sanity. Instead, you ignored her sad looks whenever Anthony sent you a particularly large bouquet of roses. So it came as a little bit of a shock that Theo and Bastian were being so forthright about the subject, showing little to no tact in handling what was a very painful situation for you.
You saw your brothers exchange a panicked look, clearly not expecting your bristling tone. "Because we haven't seen him in a while!" blurted out Bastian.
"Yes, exactly," said Theo, nodding aggressively. "It's just been some time since we last saw Benedict and we're wondering whether you knew if he'll be coming. So we can see him and all. Is he doing alright?"
You sniffed, crossing your arms stiffly and uttering a curt reply, "I see. Well, yes. He will be coming. He should be arriving in a few hours. And yes, he's alright. He's been faring quite well but I think he's coming back to town properly now."
Catching the wide-eyed look they exchanged, you rolled your eyes in annoyance. "And yes! He knows I've been courting someone, which I know was your next question. Though he doesn't know it's Anthony so don't you dare tell him. I will tell him myself once he arrives," you warned them.
"Wouldn't dream of it," assured Theo.
"Sorry about that. Let us know if you need anything," added Bastian.
You hummed. "Thank you very much. Now please get your dirty shoes off my bed or I'm afraid I will have to kill you. And we wouldn't want to make Mother sad over the death of two of her sons, would we?
They stood up off suddenly your bed and straightened up, clearly not having expected this to be such a hostile conversation. But they were glad you had at least cracked a joke, even if the comment threatened their untimely death. They laughed nervously and bid their goodbyes, exiting your room quickly.
A deep sigh escaped your lips as you closed the door after them, placing your forehead against the cool wood. You had most likely overreacted, but you would have to apologize another time. The sinking feeling of anxiety in your stomach took precedence over your brothers right now, as much as it was inconvenient for them.
The earlier flutters in your stomach had turned into giant somersaults, and you felt like you were going to be positively sick. You would have to tell Benedict that you were engaged to Anthony soon since you knew it would be unimaginably cruel to let Ben learn about your courtship to his brother as he was proposing to you.
The easiest thing would be to tell him during one of your nature walks. Whenever you were at Aubrey Hall, you and Benedict went on nature walks around the grounds, where you would often point out familiar flower and plant species, and he would remind you to take in the beautiful landscape. These walks could often last for hours, just the two of you wrapped up in each other's presence. And although it was usually Ben who suggested them, you had planned to ask him on a nature walk tomorrow morning to break the news that Anthony was the man you intended to marry. It would give him ample time and space to process the information, and some precious privacy to sort out any unresolved feelings on both sides.
Yet, the meticulously thought-out plan you had come up with did absolutely nothing to soothe your fears for the actual moment that you would tell him. In all honesty, you had no idea how Benedict would react. You weren't even sure how you wanted him to react. You supposed the best-case scenario would be if he calmly listened and said he understood your choice, and perhaps even thought it a good idea since you would be able to remain close to him. But you couldn't help a very tiny part of you that had previously been locked in the depths of your brain from hoping that Benedict wouldn't react calmly. That he would be impossibly angry. Angry with you, and with Anthony, and with himself. So angry that maybe he would realize that he did love you, after all, however unrealistic that might be.
With a determined exhale, you pushed yourself off the door and started getting ready to go downstairs to Anthony's study. The twins' unexpected inquiry had thrown you off balance, but you couldn't afford to let it linger in your thoughts. Anthony had asked you to stop by once you arrived at Aubrey Hall to iron out the details of his proposal. In less than a week, he would officially be your fiancé, and you had to start figuring out how it would actually happen.
---
As Benedict rode through the picturesque countryside toward Aubrey Hall, the weight of the impending conversation with you settled in his chest. The familiar scenes outside the carriage window, once a source of solace, now seemed to blur as his mind whirred with conflicting emotions. The letter you had sent him requesting his presence at Aubrey Hall so he could meet your future husband lay heavily in his pocket. Ben could barely breathe from the weight of the knowledge that you were so close to being out of his grasp forever.
Reading that letter for the first time had evoked a sharp pain in his chest that he couldn't shake even now, almost a week later. Benedict was beyond nervous to meet whoever you might be marrying, unsure if he would be able to successfully hide his overpowering love for you. However, he couldn't seem to forget the faint tear stains slightly smudging your handwriting of the letter in his pocket. A selfish part of him wished that you might be sad to be marrying this mystery man. That you had settled for someone less worthy and Ben could continue to be confident (if you could call what he was feeling right now confidence) in his decision to forgo a marriage with you. But this fleeting hope was immediately replaced with guilt. You deserved more than an unhappy marriage, even if it meant embracing a future that felt like a cruel twist of fate for Benedict's own heart. Despite the agonizing ache he was feeling, he knew would do this again ten times over if it guaranteed your happiness.
Arriving at Aubrey Hall, Ben dismissed the carriage with a nod of thanks to the driver. With his belongings in tow, he decided to stop by Anthony's study first. His older brother had surely already met your suitor and could perhaps offer some insight so Benedict wasn't entirely blindsided when you officially introduced him.
As Ben approached the door, he caught the sound of your voice, a sweet sound that made him smile wider than he had since he left you. He couldn't help but linger for a moment, enchanted by the familiarity of your tone and wishing he hadn't spent so long away from it.
But his attention sharpened as he overheard your conversation with Anthony. "I think it might be best if it's not a massive surprise to our families, especially Hyacinth. So, would you want to announce our engagement before everyone gets here? Sometime in the coming days? And then you can propose to me properly once all the guests arrive?" he heard you speak.
Benedict's world ground to a halt. The words hung in the air, a revelation that left him stunned. He went numb, pure anger coursing through his veins as he burst open the door and barged into his older brother's study. His eyes, aggressively narrowed into slits, fell on his best friend, sitting at his brother's desk as Anthony leaned against it. Time froze as you and Anthony turned towards him, expressions of shock clear on your faces.
"I beg your pardon?" he spoke, tone low and venomous as he breathed heavily. "What the bloody hell did you just say?"
A/N: just wanted to say thank you everyone so much for reading ahhhh I'm so happy to see all of your reactions after every part and I just LOVE YOU okay kisses bye
previous part || next part || buy me a ko-fi!
Tag List (lmk if you want to be added!): @bellahadidnt16 @like-gabriel-and-castiel @riverraingrayworld @5sos-calm @elissanatok @titanicnerd-blog @noonenuts @moonwayne @lilasblogg @mmontgomeryb @fulltacoparadise @joyfullymulti @sopanngon @fanfiction-she-wrote @aureolinb @ambitionspassionscoffee @bbubbllejisoo @marvelspogue @avengersgirllorianna @loliakeoghan23 @cierrajhill
503 notes · View notes
flowersintheimpala69 · 22 days ago
Text
wrote a little something about sam and blurry wife going to couples therapy <3
click to read on ao3
Diane and Sam Reid seem normal enough.
According to their file, they’re the typical suburban couple. Married six years, with one five-year-old son. Sam is a data entry clerk, while Diane is a pediatrician. Forty-six and forty-four respectively. Perhaps a bit older than most parents, but nothing overtly amiss with the Reids.
Carol taps her pen against her chin as she continues to peer through their file. There isn’t much else. They’d only emailed a few times, and the only explanation provided for seeking therapy was ‘martial problems’. Their first session was scheduled for 2 pm to 3 pm on Tuesday. She supposes she’ll just have to wait until then to find out more.
Carol’s first impression is they’re a very attractive couple. Diane is medium height, with sharp cheekbones and brown hair down to her shoulders. Sam is tall and wide-shouldered, especially fit for his age, with brown hair that stops just below his ears.
“Where can we sit?” Diane asks, voice flat but polite.
“On the couch is okay,” Carol responds, “Unless either of you would prefer the armchair?”
“Couch is fine,” Diane says, smiling thinly. The couple sit on the couch but maintain a slight distance. Diane sits up straight with her hands clasped in her lap, while Sam curls in on himself, arms crossed. 
“Do we call you Dr. Davis or Carol?” Diane asks.
“Carol is fine,” Carol answers warmly. She adjusts the notepad in her lap. “How was the drive here?”
“Good,” Sam answers, speaking for the first time since he’d entered the room, “We live in Dustin, so it’s only a 20-minute drive.”
“I’m sorry,” Diane says, “Do mind if we skip the pleasantries?”
“Of course. This is your time.”
“Great.”
“Could you tell me a bit about your relationship?” Carol asks.
“It’s great,” Sam says at the same time Diane says, “Strained.” They exchange an awkward look.
“Strained is an interesting word. How so?”
Diane laughs awkwardly, “God, where to start? Well for starters, Sam doesn’t open up to me. At all.”
Sam huffs, “It’s not like I have to tell her every little thing about me. She’s just… paranoid.”
“I’m not paranoid. I feel like any person would about knowing zilch in regards to the last forty years of their husband's life,” Diane says, “Right?”
“I understand how that would be frustrating.”
“He could be a criminal for all I know.”
“I’m not.” Sam says, but his voice wavers, “I’m just a private person.”
“Private? That’s an understatement. I don’t even know what your mom’s name is.” Diane says.
“Why would you even want to know that.”
“It’s the principle of it.”
Diane gives Carol a look as if to say see what I deal with?
“Why don’t you like to share your past with Diane?” Carol asks Sam, “Are you afraid she’d use it against you?”
Sam shrugs, “I just don’t like having to think about it.”
“I can understand that, but for the sake of your relationship do you think you could open up a bit?”
Diane looks at Sam expectantly.
Sam sighs, “Sure. Fine. My mother’s name was Mary.” He dosen’t say more.
“Do you think you could share more?” Carol asks.
“Like what.” Sam snaps.
Diane gives him a disapproving look. Carol smiles in an attempt to lessen the tension in the room. She’s not successful.
“Is there anything else you’d like to know, Diane?”
“Just—What was your childhood like? Have you been married before? Where did you grow up?”
Sam rolls his eyes, “Complicated, no, and all over. Is that enough?”
“No, Sam, it’s not,” Diane huffs.
“You used the word ‘complicated’,” Carol comments, “Could you expand?”
Sam shifts uncomfortably. “Yeah. Sure. It was just. We moved around a lot. I never stayed in a school long enough to make friends.”
“We?”
“My dad and brother.” Sam clarifies. At the mention of brother Diane tenses. Carol chooses not to comment on it for the time being.
“Why did you move around so much?” Carol asks.
“For my dad’s work,” Sam says, “He was a mechanic,” Sam says the word like it’s venom in his mouth.
Carol nods, “You said you moved schools a lot. That sounds difficult, you must have been lonely.”
“No,” Sam says, “It wasn’t.” His face softens for a split second, “I had my brother.”
“You two were close?”
“Yeah,” Sam says, voice just above a whisper. “Something like that.”
Carol writes down brother in her notes. She turns to Diane, “Did you know about Sam’s brother?”
Diane laughs, “Jesus, how couldn’t I? He has a safe of his things in our closet. It’s full of just junk: old flannels, a flask, mix tapes, a weird brass necklace—which he never wears but the way he acts about it you’d think it was made of gold. At least that’s what I’ve caught glimpses of. Only Sam has the combination to the safe and he’s possessive over it.”
Sam bristles, “It’s not junk.”
“Also! He keeps his brother’s car—which he never uses—in the garage and blows a fuse whenever I suggest we sell it. He refuses to drive it but sometimes sits in it for hours. Not that anyone else is allowed near it.”
Sam doesn’t respond.
“His brother’s all he talks about.” Diane explains, lips pursed, “But it's like. He doesn’t share details about him. It just slips out. It’s always ‘Oh I used to watch that with my brother’ or ‘My brother used to do that’. But the second you ask for more information he clams up. It’s… frustrating.”
“I don’t owe you details about him,” Sam says defensively, “He’s… He’s not something you can just get a piece of.”
Diane rolls her eyes, “God, you act like he’s your best-kept secret or your childhood sweetheart.”
Sam doesn’t respond to that, but the way his cheeks flush is telling enough.
“Sam?” Carol asks, “What do you think about what Diane has said?”
“I don’t want to talk about him anymore.”
Diane huffs but doesn’t protest. “Fine,” She says, voice sardonic and tight, “How about we talk about our sex life then?” Sam bristles.
Carol tilts her head, “What about your sex life?”
“Well for starters it’s nearly nonexistent.”
Sam stiffens, “I don’t owe you sex, Diane.” 
“I never said you did,” Diane retorts, “You’re being defensive.”
“Let’s try to use ‘I feel’ statements,” Carol interjects.
“Fine, I feel like you’re being defensive.”
“Good.” Carol says smiling, before turning to Sam, “What do you think about what Diane has said?”
“I think she needs to stop being so obsessed with the sex thing.” 
“He’s just embarrassed,” Diane explains, “He has a difficult time getting hard.”
Sam bristles, but doesn’t respond. Carol nods her head and in her notes writes erectile dysfunction.
“Is that the main cause for the lack of sex?”
“Yes and no,” Diane answers, she opens her mouth to say more but hesitates.
“Could you say more?”
Diane’s face screws up, “I don’t know how to say this next thing.”
Sam interjects, “She thinks it's a bigger deal than it is.”
Diane glares at Sam, “You’re just saying that because you’re ashamed.”
“Ashamed of what?” Carol asks, peering curiously at the couple.
“Sam has these… fetishes.”
Sam blushes and looks down, but doesn't say anything to contradict.
“Fetishes aren’t uncommon,” Carol says, “What is the nature of these fetishes?”
“Sam needs pain to get hard.”
“Pain?”
“Hitting,” Diane explains, “And I don’t mean spanking or slapping. Like. Punching. Sometimes choking.”
“Okay,” Carol nods, “Sam, why do you think you feel the need for pain to reach sexual gratification?”
“I don’t—I just. It helps.”
“It’s not normal,” Diane insists, “I mean—Look, I’m sex-positive. I don’t really understand kink or whatever but I don’t—It’s not like I think kinky sex is bad. But he wants me to beat him. It’s not—I mean it, I’m not gonna abuse my husband.” 
“It wouldn’t be abuse if I want it,” Sam protests, “I don’t understand why you think it’s such a big deal.”
“Okay,” Carol says, sensing the tension rising, “How about we—”
“The first time he asked me to hit him was our second time having sex. Second time. He just—It’s going great and then he just blurts out ‘can you hit me’. Like what am I suppose to say to that?”
Sam looks embarrassed. “You could’ve at least acted like it didn’t disgust you. That I didn’t disgust you.”
“You asked me to beat you, Sam, how did you think I would react? Christ.”
“I didn’t—I wasn’t thinking. I shouldn’t have said it. Especially since it’s been seven years and you have yet to let it go,” Sam says through clenched teeth.
“He also—He can’t be pinned down during sex. He doesn’t like it when I’m on top. Even though I’m like less than half his weight and completely non-threatening, he can’t stand it. He can only do doggy style. I think it’s a PTSD thing.”
“Oh, is it a crime to have preferences now?” Sam retorts. His fists are clenched tightly on his knees. 
“I never said that.”
“What Diane said about PTSD,” Carol says, “Is that true?”
“No,” Sam says at the same time Diane says, “Not officially.”
Sam rolls his eyes at his wife’s statement, ‘You’re a pediatrician, Diane, not a psychologist.”
“It doesn’t take a psychologist to figure it out. He’s depressed too. And half a billion other things.”
“Don’t say that!” Sam interjects, offended. “You don’t know close to enough about me to make claims like that.”
“Yeah. That’s the problem, Sam. I’m your wife of nearly a decade and I still don’t know why you jump at sudden sounds or cringe whenever we pass a diner or puke at the sight of raw meat,” Diane says, “Which aren’t exaggerations. He can’t be in the kitchen when I make hamburgers.”
“I have a sensitive stomach,” Sam insists. 
“He used to sleep with a gun under his pillow. I had to beg him to stop. Now he just keeps it in the nightstand. We live in the safest part of town. That’s not normal.”
“It’s just a force of habit,” Sam insists.
“Yeah. That’s still not normal.”
Carol writes down in her notepad PTSD? Veteran?
“Are you scared that something will happen, Sam?” Carol asks.
“No—Well, I mean—Anything can happen. Anytime. It’s just good to be prepared.”
“Sure, Sam,” Diane interjects, “And salt on our windowsills helps us prepare how?” She says mockingly.
“I’m just superstitious,” Sam explains. 
“Back to sex,” Diane says, “He says other people’s names in bed.”
“Oh?” Carol says. In her notepad, she writes cheater?
“Yeah. He’s said Ruby before. Once Toni. He—” Diane laughs through her nose, “He said Lucifer once. Like the Devil. I don’t even know what that’s about.”
Sam says nothing, his eyes fixed on the carpet. 
“I used to think he was cheating on me. Because of the Ruby thing. Then after he said Lucifer I wondered if it was like, a sex fantasy or something. Except. Well. He doesn’t really say their names in pleasure. Sometimes when we have sex it’s like he’s lost in his head, and he says those names because he’s reliving something else.”
Carol turns to Sam, “Does that sound accurate, Sam?”
Sam shrugs, “Sure. I guess.”
“Are you remembering bad experiences?”
Sam stills, then gives a sharp nod of his head.
“I think it’s a PTSD thing,” Diane explains. “He won’t admit it, but the way he acts sometimes… It makes me think he was like. Raped or something.”
Sam tenses. “Don’t—Don’t use that word.” He says.
“Is that true,” Carol inquires, “Were you sexually assaulted?”
“I wasn’t—It’s complicated. I don’t want to talk about this.”
“Okay. That's okay, Sam. We don’t have to talk about anything you’re uncomfortable with.”
Diane pipes up suddenly, “There’s another thing. About the names.”
Sam jolts, “Diane—”
“He said our son’s name during sex.”
Carol doesn’t know what to say to that.
Sam has his face in his hands. 
“Yeah. It was one of the few times I agreed to indulge in his… fetish. And he moaned our son’s name. Then came. So. It wasn’t a PTSD thing. And that’s—that’s fucked up.”
“Well,” Carol says as she writes down in her notepad pedophile?
“It wasn’t about DJ,” Sam says quietly, his gaze downcast, “I’d never…” He trailed off.
“DJ is your son?” 
“Yeah,” Sam said, sniffling a bit, “Stands for Dean Jr. So if it makes it any better it was about, y’know, the original Dean.”
“Oh.” Carol says, crossing pedophile out. “Did you know this, Diane?”
Diane laughs, “Yeah, of course I did. Otherwise, I would’ve called the fucking cops. But it’s still fucked up.”
Carol nods, “I understand how Sam saying an ex-lover's name in bed could be upsetting.”
Diane raises her eyebrows and purses her lips, “Dean isn’t Sam’s ex-lover.”
“Oh? Who’s Dean?”
Diane looks over at Sam expectingly. Sam shifts in his seat uncomfortably.
“Dean was my brother.”
Carol has to fight herself to keep her expression appropriate. 
“Was?” She asks.
“He’s dead.”
Carol writes down incest complex and Dean: dead brother. 
“I’m sorry to hear that, Sam.”
“I don’t wanna talk about this anymore.”
Diane huffs, but remains silent.
“Okay,” Carol says, closing her notepad, “Our time is up for today.”
Diane stands up briskly, “Thank you, Dr. Davis.”
Sam gets up slowly, “Yeah. Thanks.” 
“Of course,” Diane says as she opens the door for them, ‘I’ll see you two same time next week.”
87 notes · View notes