#so terrifyingly handsome

[illiana-mystery]

He's so menacing...and so, so hot.

[54prowl]

more female villains?

god forbid women commit manslaughter?

you can't even handle Makima's existence what do you mean 'be gay do crime' huh??

[doodlboy]

I am screaming and jumping up and down and doing a little dance inside of my head rn!

[bandgie]

Would you maybe be interested in this?

https://www.tumblr.com/thefantasydenthoughts/745174509121929216/sending-one-more-i-hope-im-not-annoying-i-feel?source=share

a/n: (link) I am yes BUT you know I have to add my own twist

Synopsis: You never expected to run into three terrifyingly handsome men the night you ran away on your wedding, but you didn't expect them to be so inviting either.

warnings: MDNI 18+, fem!reader, 4some, jerking off, multiple orgasms (f!), light pussy play, PIV, cumming inside, no protection, lots of boob play, overstim (f!), GUN INVOLVEMENT (not nsfw), kidnapping?? (kinda), prolly missed more lmao

4.3k words

"Don't scream," you hear a deep voice whisper in your ear before your mouth is covered. "Unless you want metal in your head."

Your small whimpers muffle in his hand, but you nod. The man with chubby cheeks gives you a sympathetic look and frowns at the one holding a gun to your head. "Do you have to say that? You're gonna make her cry."

"Jisung," a cat-like man says his name sternly. "We don't have time for this, let's go."

Jisung grumbles while they lead you to an alleyway away from the main street. The tall man behind you keeps the gun to your head, guiding you to follow them. There are hardly any lights this deep into an alley, but the moon provides enough to help you spot a parked car.

They're taking you back. The thought of your arranged marriage makes you cry, weeping in the hands of your kidnappers. Tears seep through the man's fingers and you taste the saltiness on your lips. Your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath, but the hand on your mouth prevents you from properly inhaling.

You shake your head back and forth, trying to escape from his grip. "No," you sob. "I don't wanna go back. Don't send me back. Please."

The man with the cat eyes unlocks the car and opens the backseat door. "Damn Hyunjin. What'd you tell her?"

"I didn't say shit!" Hyunjin has to bump you toward the car as you try to escape. "She just started crying. Are you sure we have the right girl?"

It takes Hyunjin and Jisung to put you in the car. To ensure your captivity, each of them sits beside you, thigh to thigh. The other one sits in the front, roaring the car engine to life. "All I was told was that she had white heels. That's it."

You're still crying, hiccuping as Hyunjin keeps the gun pointed steadily at you. Jisung takes a comforting approach, opting to hold your shaky hands and smooth over your skin. "Nothing is gonna happen, okay?" He smiles wearily at you. "Just a few questions. That's all."

No way that's all. If your fiancé sent them, they'll do more than just ask questions. "D-don't lie to me," you say through your tears. "You're gonna send me back to h-him and make me m-marry him and you'll kill me if I don't." You expect them to keep feeding you lies in an attempt to calm you, but Jisung's expression is utterly confused.

"Marry? Marry who?" It's the driver who asks. He hasn't put the car into gear yet as he turns to look at you. His face is more terrifying when he's pissed. "Who are you?"

Shouldn't you be asking them that?

But you tell them. You tell them how you were set up for an arranged marriage with a man whose name you don't even know. You tell them that tonight is the night you ran away from your wedding. You're sure he's sent people to find you, and since Hyunjin had that god-forsaken gun, you thought they were the ones.

"Holy shit," Jisung swears when you finish your story. "Chan is gonna kill us."

You're not sure who Chan is, but you're not eager to find out. "Don't tell him! I promise I won't say anything. I swear. I'll pretend like nothing happened and...and I'll give you anything you want! I have money! I don't care how much you ask for, just don't hurt me." Your bottom lip trembles.

Han shares a look with Hyunjin who looks at the man in the front for directions.

"Listen," the driver speaks softly. "We aren't gonna hurt you. We weren't even thinking of it. We were supposed to question a different girl but someone got it wrong." He shoots a look at Jisung. "But I promise, pretty, nothing's gonna happen to you, okay?"

He sounds sincere, and whether he means it or not, it makes you feel just a little better. You nod and wipe the tears sliding down your face, trying to control your breathing. Hyunjin seems to have long abandoned the gun and Jisung’s hand moved to your knee. Suddenly, it’s not too scary having them pushed against you.

"See?" Jisung gives you a sweet smile. "You're gonna be okay. Minho looks all mean, but he's not too bad."

Minho grunts.

"Okay, maybe he is a little bad, but he's not all bad." Jisung gives a reassuring squeeze.

You nod, trying to smile but the need for air is more important. You're still in your wedding dress with a huge coat over it. With the two men sitting hip-to-hip with you, it's starting to feel hot and uncomfortable. You try fanning yourself with your hand, but it's not enough. Deciding it’s better to remove your coat, you slowly shrug the material off. It slides down your shoulders to reveal the dress you tried so hard to conceal. 

It's beautiful, much to your dismay. A corset wrapped tightly at your waist so your breasts overfill at the top. It's loose on the bottom, with a slit starting at your upper thigh to expose your leg. It makes you look accentuated, yes, but it's a reminder that you were a pawn. You wish you could remove it entirely.

"Oh wow," Jisung can't help his shock. His eyes lock at your chest before traveling up to your neck. "You look...you look...I mean you were getting married, I know, but-"

"You look beautiful," Hyunjin saves Jisung from embarrassment. You discard the coat on the floor of the car before looking at Hyunjin. Maybe it's because he's no longer threatening you, but he looks charming under the car lights. His eyes remind you of how the crescent moon looks high in the sky. Though his lips seem to demand your attention from his smile, you can’t help but be drawn to the shining metal on his eyebrow. 

"I uhh...thanks," you aren't sure which enchanting features to look at. “You look…good too.”

"Thank you," he giggles. "So is this what you were gonna wear for a man you've never even met?" Hyunjin gestures at your dress. Your smile falters and you nod. "What a waste," he places his large hand on your face, thumb stroking your cheek. "Such a pretty thing like you deserves so much more. Don't you think, Ji?"

"So much more," Jisung scoots closer to you. His hand goes to your knee while leaning into your neck. "So pretty." His breath is warm on your skin. His body heat feels like an inviting blanket you want to wrap yourself in. Though you haven’t spoken to Jisung much, he seems to be the ‘nicest’. He was the only one who made an effort to calm you down, even if it didn’t help much at the time. 

You can tell Jisung wants to touch you more. He's practically vibrating with need, but he holds back. The only sign he gives you is the hand on your leg. It never travels up, but his fingers make small circles on your skin. His hesitation only works you up more. Feeling his hand on your knee is only a hint at what you might endure tonight. You're surprised to see how much you want to feel all of them touching you.

Still, you have the mind to remember how scared you were moments ago. “I don't- I don't think-" You're cut off by Hyunjin tracing his thumb on your mouth. He taps your bottom lip, pulling it down to reveal your lower teeth.

"Don't think, angel," he sounds like a dream. "You're safe with us, that's all that matters."

Safe? That you aren't too sure of, but you don't try to stop Hyunjin when he leans in. His hand is steady on your cheek while his lips meet yours. The kiss is soft, a gentle mingling to let you know he wouldn't do anything you're not ready for. You tilt your head up to get more of his taste. A specific flavor of coolness meets your mouth, he must wear chapstick.

Mint, you think.

The kiss deepens and his tongue swipes against your lip. You debate on it, unsure if you're really wanting to fuck the same guys who scared the shit out of you minutes ago. But everything just feels so good. Hyunjin's mouth and Han's inching hand. You're already on the run from your finance, what's the harm in fucking up more?

You part your lips, inviting Hyunjin's tongue. He inhales and grunts at the wetness of yours. They slide together and mix, twisting into an open-mouthed kiss crudely.

Hyunjin properly reattaches his mouth to suck on your bottom lip, pulling the skin in a way that makes you whine. Jisung takes the opportunity to slide his hand up the slit, finding home at your inner thigh. You feel his mouth attach to the exposed part of your neck. His tongue is hot on your skin, licking and sucking until your throat turns a bright shade of pink.

"Are you guys seriously gonna fuck in my car?"

Oh. Right, there's another person here. Hyunjin slowly pulls away from you. The lack of kissing has you chasing his lips, blindly following the sensation.

Han whines in the crook of your neck, sparing a look at Minho who looks both irritated and aroused.

"But Minhooo..." Jisung pouts. "She's so pretty."

"So pretty," Hyunjin parrots.

"And we weren't very nice to her at first. This is us making it up! This is the least we owe her, don't you think?" Jisung must have Minho under some type of spell because his features soften. There's a brief moment of silence that's nearly deafening. The attention shifts from Minho to you, and you can hardly stand the tension.

"I...I want to."

"Oh, you do?" Minho doesn't sound too friendly. "Alright then. Go ahead." He twists his body so it's fully facing you and the other men. You hear Hyunjin groan and Jisung giggle. They waste no time in getting back to their original position, though Jisung seems eager to spread your legs wide this time.

The feeling of two hot mouths lands on both sides of your neck. You gasp, fists gripping their pants.

You lock eyes with Minho to see a smirk on his lips. "You're...you're just gonna watch?"

Minho's smile widens, "Why? Is two not enough for you?"

Hyunjin laughs against your skin while you blush. "That's not what I meant," you whimper when Jisung bites down on your flesh. "I just...I don't want you to-"

"He's a big boy, angel," Hyunjin picks up his head from your neck. "If he wants to watch, he can watch you cum on my dick, okay?" You turn redder, hand coming up to cover your bashful expression.

It's a good thing you've got something covering your mouth because Jisung has managed to infiltrate your underwear amidst the conversation. He massages your cunt through the material in slow circles. You hum and widen your legs while Hyunjin helps to hike the dress up to your waist.

"No, she’s gonna cum on me first!” Jisung pouts. “I wanna be the first one.” To drive his point home, Jisung moves your underwear to the side. He spreads your lips to show the arousal collecting somewhat proudly. “I did this! It’s not fair that Hyunjin calls the shots when I’m the one who got her wet! And I was the only one nice to her!”

Ah, that’s true. Even if Han’s throwing a bit of a tantrum, you can’t help but find it somewhat cute. The points he makes are valid, and if he wasn’t as welcoming as he was in the beginning, you would probably be doing something very different than what you are now. 

Though Han’s directing his whining at the others, you nod. “I…I don’t mind if Jisung goes first.” Your words quiet the car before Jisung looks at you with an endearing smile. “Really?!” He claps when you nod. 

“See!” He looks at Hyunjin. “You don’t get to get everything just ‘cause you’re handsome.”

You giggle as Jisung grabs you by the waist to hover you a few inches off the seat. He slides underneath your ass and wiggles his pants down, using a hand to free his cock. Hyunjin still keeps the dress at your waist so you’re able to see Jisung spring-free when you look down. 

It’s a lot thicker than you thought. It flushes a deep color while the head of his cock is even darker. A few small veins trail along his length, but one along the sides has you already lowering yourself down in anticipation. 

“Whatever. You’re just opening her up for me,” Hyunjin grumbles. 

His words are lost to you and Jisung as he taps his tip on the front of your pussy. Jisung swivels his hips so he’s able to smear his pre-cum over your cunt. You match his movements, grinding back and forth so your clit can catch his flared tip. It’s hard to steady yourself while wearing heels, so you find leverage by hanging onto the headrests of the front seats where Minho sits. 

“Can’t forget about these,” Minho hums to himself as he reaches for your corset. He loosens the top part of your dress before spilling your breasts out, cupping and groping them. He flicks your nipples in an attempt to get them to harden. With his thumb and forefinger, he pinches the buds until you squeal. 

Hyunjin can’t contain himself anymore. He watches as Jisung gets to rub his dick all over your pretty cunt and as Minho plays with your tits. Finding a solution, Hyunjin bunches the material of your dress in one hand behind your back so a newly free hand can finally touch you somewhere. And that somewhere is your cunt. 

“Don’t you want Jisung in your pussy already? Hm?” You feel Hyunjin slide his long fingers to Han’s cock so he can push it up. The tip slightly breaches your entrance, but there’s not enough force for it to go in all the way. Still, you can feel the warmth of it, of all of them. Minho’s soft yet ruthless hands twisting your nipples until they blossom with pink; Han’s hot dick sliding across your pussy; and Hyunjin’s warm fingers guiding the cock where it should go.

You nod, though you aren’t sure if he can tell. 

Hyunjin grabs the base of Han’s cock and angles it to your cunt. “So wet already, it should slide in real good.” He tugs the back of your dress as a sign to lower yourself. Hyunjin is careful to make sure Han’s cock stays perfectly aligned with your hole despite how much he’s moving. Your lower lips spread as the head of his cock breaches your entrance, a whine leaving you. Inch by inch, you take Han’s length inside of you, thighs burning as you slowly make your descent.

Minho’s hands travel from your chest to your shoulders, helping you fully settle on Han’s cock. “Shit, look at that,” he laughs breathlessly. “Pussy opens so good for him.” You whine at Minho’s praise, finding the motivation to finally sink fully into his cock with a moan.

“Gotta fuck you,” Jisung whimpers from behind. His hands find the curve of your hips before he thrusts upwards. You squeal at his intrusion, thighs shaking. “J-Jisung! Can’t- I can’t- Just wait let me-” But he doesn’t wait and a bigger part of you is glad. You can feel his thighs slapping against the bottom of yours, how he’s whining just behind your ear with soft apologies. 

“So, so good. Pussy so good to me, baby. I- fuck- ‘m sorry. I’ll be slower next time, mkay? I promise.” Jisung opts to wrap his arms around your middle torso to properly fuck up into you. Your tits bounce at his harsh thrusts and Minho doesn’t hesitate to get back to work on them. He takes hold of your nipples and pulls, watching your back arch forward. The whimper that leaves your mouth is heavenly, and Hyunjin can’t help but grow restless. 

The taller man moves his hand to rub on your clit, moving the flesh in wide circles. Your jaw drops and you tilt your head to look at Hyunjin, eyes glazed with tears and arousal from the overstimulation. He gives you a dazzling smile, “You should see how you look, angel. Gettin’ all worked up over one dick. It’s so cute.”

Your styled hair must be a mess from the way Jisung keeps pounding into you. Your dress is wrinkled and damn near disheveled at the top because of Minho’s persistent groping. And you’re sure the expensive makeup can only last so long. So to hear Hyunin call you cute seems like it should be impossible, but the look on his face screams authenticity. You mean to thank him, to say anything that could describe how grateful you are for all of them making your night, but the moment you open your mouth, it’s moans and cries that sound instead. 

“Fuck! Her pussy,” Jisung groans. “Gonna make me cum. I can cum in you, right? Can I?” The desperation in his voice makes you want to agree, but it’s Minho who answers him. “You get to fuck her first and cum in her? That hardly sounds fair.” Even though you can see the smirk on Minho’s lips, Jisung cries out as if he’s been wounded. His embrace around you tightens and his thrusts grow sloppy. Despite that, your cunt hugs his cock eagerly, begging for his cum. The walls of your pussy feel stretched and used, but you can feel your womb aching to be filled.

“Want it…” you moan. “All of it. I want all of it.” 

It’s as if you’re Jisung’s savior. He can’t help but laugh, looking at his hyungs with triumph. “Heard that? You heard that, right?” He kisses the exposed part of your neck tenderly. “Thank you, baby, thank you. Imma fill you up nice and full. Gonna be leaking with my cum for weeks.”

“Gross,” you hear Hyunjin grimace. There’s not a chance to glance at him before Jisung bucks up into you with fervor. You gasp, leaning forward towards Minho so Jisung can have full access to your pussy. It’s wet, it’s lewd, and Hyunjin only makes the sounds louder as his fingers flick back and forth against your nub. 

You’re reminded of how tired your legs are in this position, but that thought is distracted by a warm mouth enveloping your breast. You look down to see Minho peering up at you through his lashes, your nipple between his teeth. He gently bites before sucking it back into his mouth, letting his tongue graze the bud repeatedly. He hallows his mouth to make a powerful suction and leans his head back, taking your tit with him.

It’s no shock when you cum, but it is sudden. You’re not sure which action made you finally tip over, but Jisung can feel the gushing of your cunt and the squeezing of your walls on his cock. Hyunjin can feel how much wetter your clit has gotten, how it twitches in his hold. Minho only giggles when your entire body vibrates, tits jiggling in his mouth. 

Han whines, “Is she cumming? I can feel her pussy creaming all over my cock. Shit, feels so good baby. Gonna make me cum.”

“Mhm,” Hyunjin looks at your wrecked state that barely manages to keep you upright. “She’s cumming all right. Don’t think she can take much more, Ji. Hurry up or she’ll pass out on my turn.”

The thought of having Hyunjin fuck you makes you clench on Jisung’s cock. It seems like he appreciates this, moaning before spilling hot cum into your pussy. It floods your cunt in streaks, finding a place deep in your womb. Your knuckles turn white from the grip you have on the headrests, teeth digging into your lower lip just to keep yourself from being too loud. Jisung groans and rests his forehead on your back, giving you tired thrusts to ride out his high. 

“God- fuck! You put a spell on this pussy or something? Squeezing me so tight like it doesn’t wanna let me go.” Jisung struggles to pull himself out of you. He adjusts his hands back to your hips so he can lift you, slowly dragging his cock against your walls. You moan at the feeling of him sliding out. It’s cautious and slow, a good alternative from how roughly he was fucking you. The two of you let out a loud whine when he’s fully out.

“About time,” Hyunjin pushes Jisung out of the way. Jisung frowns, “Hey! That’s not very nice.”

Hyunjin laughs, shaking his head as he adjusts himself to how Jisung was. “Shut up. Just hold her dress up.” With grumbles, the younger man listens and bunches your wedding dress in his fists. Hyunjin slides the tip of the cock on your pussy, sending overstimulating shocks throughout your body. 

“Make it fast,” Minho directs his attention to Hyunjin. “We’ve overstayed.” Hyunjin nods, but not without a few mumbles under his breath before sinking himself inside of you.

You’re not sure what you were expecting, but it wasn’t this. Han’s cock wasn’t the longest, but it hardly lacked the thickness to stretch you out. With Han, it felt like you were being lolled around, but with Hyunjin, you can’t help but still. His cock goes deep, a never-ending feeling of being probed. You throw your head back, uncaring for how loud your moan is. Hyunjin shivers under you, hands shaky as he quickly finds a pace to fuck into you.

Minho has a front-seat view. It’s an understatement to say he’s amazed at how well you’re taking Hyunjin. Your cunt flutters open perfectly for him, clit swollen from being rubbed. Minho watches the inches upon inches being slammed into you before being pulled out. You can’t blame him when you see him sneak a hand to undo his jeans before pulling his cock out. 

“Shit! Can’t believe you got to fuck this pussy first,” Hyunjn moans out to Jisung. “Still so tight.”

Jisung is wiggling in his seat despite already cumming, Like Minho, he’s slowly stroking his soft cock at the sight. “Mhm. Tight little pussy. He’s fucking you real good, huh?” He doesn’t expect you to answer, you’re too busy trying not to scream at the bruising pace Hyunjin’s set. If you thought Jisung was rough, then Hyunjin is brutal.

“T-too much!” You yelp when Hyunjin finds a certain spot in your cunt. He feels your walls clench so violently that Jisung’s cum leaks onto his cock. “N-not there,” you whimper. “Can’t take it.”

“But it feels so good there,” Hyunjin retaliates. For once, his hips slow to purposely drag his cock across that spot. You squirm and hiccup in his hold, squealing at how overwhelmingly blissful it feels. Jisung wipes the corner of your mouth, collecting the drool that’s begun to seep through your lips before popping it in his mouth to suck.

Hyunjin drives his cock deep inside, “You feel that?” He pulls a few inches out and grinds in again. “That’s where I’mma put all my cum. Right in here.” You shiver at his words, nodding mindlessly. He smiles at your pliant state though you can’t see. “Good girl.”

“And you called me gross,” Jisung rolls his eyes, thumb still in his mouth as he watches Hyunjin desperately get himself to cum inside you. His words are hardly noticed though amongst the sound of skin and moans. All you can focus on is how close Hyunjin can bring you in such a short amount of time. He’s focused on fucking you right and you can feel how hot his body is. He brings you back down on his cock with such vigor that your entire body jiggles at the force. Minho’s eyes switch between your cunt swallowing Hyunjin’s cock to your breasts. You wish you could reach over and replace his hand with your own, but Hyunjin has a strong hold on your body for his own use.

His cock twitches in your pussy and he groans. Hyunjin’s hips have started to falter, but you’re hardly upset about it. Your cunt feels beyond abused, leaking with Jisung’s cum every time Hyunjin fucks into you. The familiar feeling of euphoria builds in your stomach and you feel it grow with every powerful thrust. You’re so caught up in the sensation of your approaching orgasm that you almost miss Hyunjin announcing his own high.

“Oh, angel. I’mma cum in you. You want my cum, yeah? Say it. Fuck. Say how much you want it.”

Hyunjin expecting you to talk despite pounding himself into you is comical, but you manage to squeak out small words. “So bad. I need it, Hyunnie. I- I wanna feel it inside me, please.” Your babbling is more than enough for Hyunjin to unload. He shivers and stills his hips flush against your ass, letting his cock pump you full of cum. 

You can feel his tip pressing against your cervix. His cock is rubbing against your gummy spot so perfectly that you cum seconds after him. Hyunjun moans at the feel of your walls clamping down on him. 

When he slips out of you, your thighs fold until you collapse on his lap wetly. Your legs tremble both from exertion and the pleasure coursing through your body. You rest your head on the middle console, wrapping your arms around your torso in an attempt to stop yourself from shaking. Hyunjin soothingly runs his hands up and down your back, cooing at how well you did with Jisung chiming in with compliments.

It takes you a moment to recognize the wet sound of Minho stroking himself. You tiredly pick your head up just in time with his orgasm. Minho’s cum shoots so far that a few strings of cum land on your face. You blink and flinch at the warm substance, automatically using your tongue to swipe off the gooey liquid. 

“Oops,” you can see Minho trying his best not to laugh. “Uhh…let’s take you to Chan’s now.”

[stevehours]

steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: you have a not so platonic dream about your best friend, steve and you’re unable to lie about it.

cw: 18+ minors dni, smut, sex dreams, oral(f receiving), morning kisses, slight degradation?

wc: 1.8k

“Steve,” you gasp, fingers tangling into his chestnut locks.

Back arching, legs trembling as they spread further and further. You can feel the languid strokes of his broad tongue against your folds, all warm and wet and wonderful. Small and pleased little moans escaping his throat as he licks up and down, sending minuscule vibrations straight to your pulsing, needy clit.

“Yes!” you cry out, tugging at his hair. It’s all heady and lovely and you’re so close, coil tightening in your stomach.

Beep! Beep! Beep!

The grating sound of your morning alarm shocks you from your slumber. Tears a gasp from your throat as you sit upright and press a hand to your chest, trying to catch your hurried breath. There’s no way you just had a sex dream about your best friend. And even worse, your thighs feel all sticky and warm. You liked it.

A fist comes barreling down on your alarm’s snooze button and then he sits up next to you, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Hair sticking up every which way, loose t-shirt a little sideways from the tossing he does in his sleep and the sight of him makes your heart skip a beat. Which is odd. This isn’t the first sleepover with Steve. It is the first naughty dream about him, however.

“Geez,” he stretches, mouth opening in a yawn as his arms extend above his head. “You good? Woke up a little abruptly, there.”

It’s all a little too much, forcing you to avert your eyes. God’s a cruel son of a bitch, uncovering these apparent romantic feelings for Steve Harrington when he’s in your bed in a totally platonic way. And suddenly, you’re met with vivid memories of what exactly you had just been dreaming about. Forces you to squeeze your legs together and clear your throat.

“Uh, yeah… just a nightmare,” you choke out, fixing your sleep mussed hair which on a typical morning next to your best friend, you wouldn’t care. But out of nowhere, you’re suddenly insecure and want to make sure you look presentable to Steve.

He pouts, lays back down against the pillow but he’s turned on his side, looking up at you with those big brown eyes. Blinks up at you and asks, “A nightmare about what?”

“You eating me out,” you blurt and then slap your hand over your mouth, horrified that you so easily admitted that. Then again, you’ve never been able to lie to your best friend.

Steve laughs, “What?” And then he looks offended, “You said it was a nightmare!”

“Oh, my god. I can’t believe I just said that out loud,” you groan, completely covering your face with your hands.

Steve tugs your wrists away, and he’s sitting up now. Far too close for comfort. Looks at you with his head tilted as he tells you, “Doesn't sound like a nightmare to me.”

“I’m so embarrassed,” you mumble and he smiles, looking so entirely handsome.

He gets himself between your legs, still clutching onto your wrists as he gazes down at you. “I’ve had dreams about that, too. Wouldn’t call ‘em nightmares, though,” he says, voice husky like you haven’t heard before.

“You have?” you ask and your voice sounds quiet and shy, nothing like it usually is with him.

Steve nods, slowly. Places his hand on your cheek, “Can I kiss you?”

Your face flushes, “But I have morning breath.”

“I don’t mind,” he smiles, moving closer and strokes his thumb against your cheekbone.

“O-okay,” you whisper, your lips twitching up into a shy smile.

Steve leans in closer, the hand not on your face falls to your waist and he tilts his head as he fits his lips against yours. And it’s like an electric shock, surprising and terrifyingly exciting. There’s no going back now. You’re both plummeting into the deep end, hand in hand.

He sinks you both to the bottom as he pulls away a millimeter and whispers against your lips, “I’ve been wanting to do that for so long.”

“Then don’t stop,” you reply just as softly, hands grabbing onto his thin t-shirt and pulling him back into you.

Steve laughs, a soft but excited sound into your mouth. He lays you back down, covering you as the kiss develops into something a little more desperate and needy. Your arms wrap around his neck, caging him in place while your legs spread to accommodate him in between them. His lips are soft and plush, moving against yours before he slips his tongue along your lower lip. You accept his physical request for entrance, gasping once his tongue rolls against your own. Steve’s an amazing kisser, morning breath and all. Your head starts spinning, a warm buzz erupting all over your body as he steadily licks into your mouth.

He pulls back to look at your face, his own flushed and gorgeous. Your eyes are drawn to the moles that decorate his skin, scattering from his face and down his neck. Steve strokes your face again and then asks, “Could I show you?”

“Show me what?” you ask, blinking curiously up at him.

“That it’s… not a nightmare?”

You laugh, eyes squeezing shut as you tilt your head back. Seems silly to call it that now after the kissing. And well, you enjoyed it in your dream so it was truly unfair to call it a nightmare in the first place.

He smooths his hands down your sides and nudges his nose against your jaw before kissing along it. “S’that a yes?” he wonders, voice muffled against your skin.

“Yeah,” you breathe, hands falling to the mattress as you watch Steve inch further and further down it, pulling the duvet cover with him. He pushes the thin cotton of your sleep shirt up and presses his lips against the skin of your navel. All the while, his eyes are on your face, watching your expression carefully. Your stomach fills with overly active butterfly wings, flapping excitingly and nervously. Steve’s fingers hook into the waistband of your boy shorts, pulling them down your thighs and off your legs. He spreads your legs and rubs his thumbs against your pelvis, looking at you with this almost lovesick look on his face. An expression you’d only seen on his face with a handful of girlfriends from his past. It makes you nervous, unable to connect that Steve’s been harboring the same romantic feelings for you all these years.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you whisper.

He laughs, blushes even, “How am I supposed to look at you before I eat you out?”

You cover your face, “Oh, my god! Maybe this is a bad idea, Harrington.”

He tugs your hands away from your face and furrows his brows, “What? You want me to look totally disinterested? I can do that. Or! Or I could look scared, I guess maybe I should be. I mean, you were dreaming about it and well, maybe it’s a lot to live up to. But I think I’m pretty good at it. I love doing it.”

“I wanna punch you,” you mumble out, smiling softly.

“I better get to it then,” he says matter of factly, spreading your legs and then looking down at your exposed core. “Oh… you really liked the dream. Nightmare, my ass. Ya know, you can be such a bitch sometimes.”

“Do you always call girls bitches before you go down on them?” you ask and just then, Steve licks a broad stripe up your slit. “Oh!”

“Just the ones who call it a nightmare,” he says smugly, returning his tongue to your core a second later. It ultimately shuts you up, eyes fluttering shut as you lay back against your pillows. His tongue is better than it was in your dream. Real, mostly. But it’s so firm and determined. Licking patterns against your clit that make your mind go blank.

He seems to love it, grabbing roughly onto your thighs while he puts his all into it. Steve’s head bobs with the motions, shakes side to side and then his tongue circles around your entrance and you jerk upright, hands on his head.

“Fuck!”

He smiles up at you, tongue still pressed to your hole as your eyes meet and fuck, if it isn’t the prettiest thing you’ve seen. He moves his tongue back up to your clit, circling the stiff bud and then wrapping his lips around it. Next thing you know, you feel Steve’s finger grazing against your entrance and you whine appreciatively. It slides in easily, worked up from the dream and his tongue. He curls it up, drags it out and adds a second digit. Your hands grab at your own chest, fingers stimulating your peaked nipples as Steve’s tongue broadly licks against your clit.

“How is it?” He asks, licking his lips as he fucks you open with his fingers.

“I hate you so much,” you pant out, blinking down at him as he smirks and rubs his thumb in circles against your clit. Your eyes flutter shut again, writhing against him.

“I can tell,” he snickers, curling his fingers up against your g-spot and pumping them in and out. Returns his mouth to your pussy and you grab onto the back of his head as you grind up against his face.

He scissors his fingers, stretching you out as he teasingly licks through your folds. He mumbles against your core, “You taste really good.”

“You’re stupid, you’re so stupid,” you moan, spreading your legs further as you squirm against the sheets.

“Mmm,” he sucks on your clit, does that come hither motion with his fingers buried deep inside you that has you seeing stars. You’re mad he is good at this.

“I hate your stupid, hot face,” you babble out, unsure where this is all coming from but Steve seems to be enjoying it because he starts fucking you harder with his fingers as you continue, “I hate your sexy, annoying voice and those dumb, puppy dog eyes.”

“Keep telling me what you love about me,” he mumbles against your core, licking through your folds.

“Your hair is the worst,” you pant out, “So full and soft and— fuck…”

He sucks on your clit again and your body seizes, thighs closing to trap his head in as your orgasm slams through you harshly.

“Stevie…” you whine out, fingers tugging on his pretty hair.

Once you relax, he covers you again, kissing you forcefully and you wrap your arms around your best friend’s shoulders. He holds onto your jaw, holds you still while he licks into your mouth. You can taste yourself on him.

“Quite the nightmare,” he says, patting your cheek with his fingers.

“Shut up,” you mumble with a lazy smile.

“Wanna see my cock?” He asks, wiggling his eyebrows and you slap his chest.

Then you say, “Yeah. Lemme see it.”

[reiderwriter]

For some reason my comments don't come through on your posts, but I want to first say I absolutely love your writing and I'm so happy your requests are open!! 🥰😭 So I've had this idea of a fluff mixed with spencer angst where reader is maybe interning at Diana's facility (not a dr yet, studying) and becomes close with Diana by reading, chatting, etc and Spencer over hears it from time to time and the dialogue between spencer and reader gets too close for Spencers comfort, but Diana wants her around more. Thank you again for your hard work okay bye!

A/N: I've never written a fic with Diana in it before, so this was a bit of a challenge for me, bit I enjoyed writing it a lot! Hopefully, this is somewhat like what you wanted!! ❤️

Warnings: Spencer is a bit dense (real) and puts his foot in his mouth (metaphorically, of course).

Diana Reid's son was exactly the way she described him, down to the tiny curls at the base of his neck and the glimmer of intelligence in his eye. 

After four weeks interning at the care facility while working on your medical degree, you'd spent a considerable amount of time with your favorite patient, and her stories about her son were legendary. 

At first, you weren't sure whether to believe the woman when she said her son was a genius with an IQ of 187, three PhDs, and a job in the FBI. She wouldn't be the first schizophrenic patient to muddle up her facts, but she certainly was the sweetest. 

So when you recalled your conversation with the head nurse later that day, she laughed and confirmed every story about Doctor Spencer Reid. Your mouth hung open in shock because surely nobody that incredible could just be out walking the streets. 

Another month of conversations about the man, and you were half in love with him. He wrote his mother letters every day - hand wrote them, even - and she's shown you a few. He'd talked about his friends, his team, his jobs, and how he was saving lives. And when one of the latest ones dropped in the news that he'd be free for a visit soon, you found yourself overflowing with anticipation. 

Of course, you felt like you already knew the man. You knew what his first words were, what his favorite toy was growing up, and even about the exploits of his first date, as pitiful as it was. What you didn't know was if Diana was passing along similar information about you. 

The day Spencer Reid finally showed up, he took your breath away. You were mostly in awe of Diana's ability to describe her son perfectly, though you'd grown fond of her perfectly professional English Lecturer tone of speaking over the last few weeks. She was practically lyrical when talking her son into existence. 

“His hair curls beautifully. He's my little adonis. He keeps it too long though, I'm always telling him he needs to cut it because it hides too much of his face,” she'd told you one day before picking her book up and ignoring you for the next half hour. 

“My Spencer is delightfully tall. He's a little bit spindly like a spider. He's not the most grateful, that's for sure, we used to call him crash because he was always bumping into things. Poetic, right?” 

You knew from the second he walked through the door that this man was him. 

Tall, slightly hunched, clutching his satchel strap in his hand, terrifyingly handsome and making your hand jump into your throat. Definitely him, and definitely a problem. You'd have to check the code of conduct about falling hopelessly for a patient's beautiful son. 

If you had any doubts, this was Spencer in front of you though, when he bumped into a chair just as he was about to reach his mother, it was confirmed. 

“Diana, I believe your Crash is here,” you smiled and giggled, watching her turn quickly to greet her son. 

You, too, gave him a warm smile, but he seemed a little hesitant to return it, instead greeting his mother softly and sitting with her while you retreated slightly to give them some privacy. 

You hovered in the space, as Diana had been talking about introducing the two of you all week, and you didn't want to distress her if she couldn't find you close by. 

But though Spencer was closely attentive and soft with his mother, he took brief pauses to stare almost frustratedly at you. You weren't sure what it was, but something about you was setting Spencer on edge, and that in itself was unsettling you as well. 

“Oh, Spencer, you must meet our Y/N. Y/N, come here, this is my son, Spencer.”

Slightly more apprehensive now, you held out your hand to shake his, “I've heard so much about you  it's nice to finally be seeing you in person, Doctor Reid.” 

He didn't shake your hand, though, but awkwardly waved it off quickly, leaving you to awkwardly replace it by your side. 

“Nice to meet you. Are you a new attendant? I asked all updates about my mother's companions to be confirmed and passed on to me, patient and carers included.” 

His tone was business-like and clipped, and you could see a gentle annoyance settling on his features. 

“I'm sorry, Doctor Reid, I thought Diana would have told you in a letter, or the administration would've passed it on. I'm a medical student on an internship.” You felt like you'd been chastised by an irate parent though he'd at no point raised his voice or indicated in his words any sense of anger at all. His eyes burned across your skin, though, and you felt a flame heat your skin under the weight of his stare. 

“You're mother has told me a lot about you though, she reads me your letters sometimes, between our discussions of Marjorie Kempe.” 

“My letters? Mom, we've talked about this. Those are private.” You looked at the quiet disappointment on Diana's face and felt protective over the woman all of a sudden.

“Please, I'm sorry for overstepping, but your mother is just very proud of you. She talks about you a lot actually, and your job-” 

“With all due respect, Y/N, the last time my mother talked to a new friend about me, he traveled to Virginia and shot one of my friends, so this really is a conversation I'd rather not be having.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach as he turned back to his mother and started talking to her gently again about personal security, effectively dismissing you from the conversation. 

You'd had stupid hopes for Spencer Reid, and that's all they would ever be. 

Reid talked on, and you left him alone with his mother, though she seemed distracted by your departure. 

“Spencer, that wasn't nice. Look at that poor girl. She's close to tears.”

“What? Mom, are you even listening to me?” 

“No, and I likely won't until you go and apologize to Y/N. She's a pretty girl, Spencer, and she was very excited to meet you.” 

“Pretty…. Mom, please.” 

“What, do you disagree? You think I don't know you well enough to know when a girl would suit you well? Or do you think I'm blind to the fact that you were stealing glances at her before she introduced herself.” 

Spencer went quiet at having been caught, and he hated to accept that maybe his mother was right. 

It was true as well that the care facility had informed him of medical interns coming and going in the next few months, and really, she wasn't to blame for his mother being fond of him. 

He was glad, though, that neither of them had noticed the ten minutes he'd spent just outside the large sitting area watching them talk. He'd been obviously taken aback to see someone new so close to his mom and his mom similarly comfortable. He felt even worse for the fact that for a solid minute and a half, he'd stared at the girl with no other thought in his head than the sound of his heart skipping a questioning beat. 

He'd pulled himself out of it eventually, but only when another nurse had come along to ask him if he'd actually be visiting his mother today or just dropping in to check on her. 

And then he'd bumped into that infernal chair when he was so fixated on getting to them, and she'd opened her mouth and called him crash, and his heart had sank. 

He reminded himself it was neither of their faults and inwardly cursed himself for being so unfriendly with someone who'd taken such good care of his mother recently. 

He promised himself that he'd talk with his mom and then go and find the woman, and apologising for being such a brute. 

“Spencer, are you listening to me, or are you busy daydreaming about my nurse?” 

“Mom!” 

“You're plain as day, kiddo, you'll never get anything past me. Now please, leave me be, I'm reading. Come back later if you must, but for now, take this to Y/N for me, please. She left it with me to read this morning, but I'm not in the mood for Medieval Romance right now.” 

It was a blatant lie, but a dismissal nonetheless, and Spencer quietly took his chance to search for you in the halls. 

The head nurse humorously pointed him in the right direction without him asking, much to his annoyance, but he persisted and lightly tapped on your shoulder to greet you. 

“Oh, Doctor Reid, hello again.” You smiled a little smaller this time, still polite, but he watched the way it didn't reach your eyes and felt like a jackass all over again. 

“My mom told me to come return this book to you.” He held out the book, and you quietly took it, folding it into your arms and hugging it tightly against your chest as you both stood there silently after the exchange. 

“I'm sorry, as well. I wasn't exactly very friendly back there, because-” 

“It's okay, Doctor Reid, you really don't have to explain. I overstepped, it's my fault and it won't happen again.”

“Are you kidding? My mom hasn't looked that relaxed in years. Please keep overstepping.” 

Your smile widened slightly at the compliment, and Spencer's tongue kicked into hyper drive immediately at the sight, even as his brain powered off. 

“You're pretty,” he blurted out, stopping only as his brain caught up with his tongue before firing off again. “My mom said you're pretty. I agree as well, though, you have a nice smile, and it's better when you don't force it. Not that I'm telling you how to smile, though. I don't know why I'm telling you this, but my mom made me come over here and talk to you, even though I'm pretty sure that's her book and not one you loaned her.” 

He took a moment to catch his breath as you blinked at him in confusion, heart beating rapidly even as you heard the blood rushing through your ears. 

“If you're free now, would you want to grab a coffee? Unless you have a boyfriend. Or husband. Or girlfriend or wife, I guess, I don't mean to presume. But if you're free, as in time, and free as in, like, relationship wise, I'd like to buy you a coffee to thank you for listening to my mom.” 

He finally stopped, and you stared wondrously at the reddened skin of his cheeks as he held his breath, waiting for your reply. 

“You want to take me out for coffee to thank me?” 

“Yes.” 

“And on a separate note, I'm pretty, and you want to know if I'm in a relationship?” 

“I'm sorry, you don't have to tell me, I'll just see myself out. It was a stupid idea anyway-” 

“No, wait, Spencer! Let me… let me grab my coat. My lunch break is in half an hour, and I'm sure it'll be okay to take it early.” You held his arm for a second, stepping slightly too close for comfort before realising yourself and taking a tiny step back.

He stood and blinked in your direction, as though wondering seriously for a moment what your lunch break had to do with him. 

“Are you going to stand there staring at me, or are we going to go out?” 

“You're serious?” 

“I guess…. I guess I am.”

“And you're… you're single.” 

Your mouth went dry as his skin finally completed its transformation from vampiric to tomato red. You desperately hoped your own embarrassment wasn't equally as readable on your face. 

“Quite single. Medical students don't have that much time to date.”

“Neither do FBI agents.” 

“Perhaps a subject we could talk more about later?” 

“Definitely.” 

[austinbutlerslovers]

Obsession

Label Mature 18+

🎃Kinktober One Shot

Summary Betrothed to Feyd-Rautha, the dark and terrifyingly handsome Na-Baron of Giedi Prime, you should be filled with fear, instead you are obsessed with him.

Harkonnen wedding traditions are brutal and cruel, a series of tests meant to prove your undying obedience yet you find yourself giving everything on your wedding night to ensure you are his one true Baroness.

🧡Depraved Smut🧡 foreplay•Dune style stimulation devices•temporary restraints •ovulation stimulator •breeding kink•multiple interchanged sex positions•multiple orgasms

🔗 Masterlist

📖 Proof Reader @purejasmine 🫦 Smut Consult @burnthheparaphilia 🩸slight mention of blood, Feyds from a chalice for the wedding

Yes 🤤 the unnatural obsession with Feyd is so real

Obsession

Your heart raced as the shuttle descended through the thick, polluted clouds of Geidi Prime, the dark, industrial planet that would soon be your new home. The vast, mechanical landscape stretched below, black and gray, a dystopian sprawl where nothing grew naturally. It was stark, oppressive, and utterly foreign to you—just like the man you were about to marry.

Feyd Rautha Harkonnen. The name alone made your pulse quicken. He was dark, enigmatic, and dangerous, whispered about in terror. The nephew of Baron Vladimir Harkonnen, Feyd was next in line to become the Baron himself, a title that would grant him dominion over the cruel, shadowed world of Geidi Prime and all who lived under his rule.

You had heard of him long before you ever saw him in person. The stories reached your ears like venom, laced with fear and awe. Even on your distant homeworld, far from the brutal politics of Giedi Prime, Feyd’s reputation preceded him.

He was a figure of dark fascination—a Harkonnen prince known for his ruthlessness in the gladiatorial arena and his cunning in the shadows of the political court. But it wasn’t until the day you saw him with your own eyes that the name took on a new, enticing meaning.

The Harkonnens had come to broker a deal with your ruling family—a subtle tightening of their grip over your people. Your father, proud and stern, had never been one to show emotion, but even he couldn’t mask the strain this decision was putting on him.

The meeting was held in the grand hall of your father’s palace. You were present but only as an observer, careful not to draw attention to yourself.

The Baron sat smugly in his chair, Feyd standing just behind him, a dark figure of quiet menace. Every so often, your eyes would dart to Feyd, stealing glances at the way he held himself with a confidence that bordered on arrogance.

His sharp features, the cold intensity in his eyes, but that alone had been enough to stir something dangerous within you.

This was the final and longest of several negotiations, and you could see the tension simmering beneath the surface, the unsaid truths weighing heavily on your father.

He was prepared to give you away as part of this dark, political bargain. The deal had been struck weeks ago, an agreement to cement an alliance with the Harkonnens in exchange for protection and resources…at the cost of your hand in marriage.

Your father’s voice wavered as the meeting wore on. “She is my daughter,” he said, his tone strained. “I want assurances—more than just words.”

The Baron’s smile was a twisted thing, devoid of warmth. “You’ll get what was promised,” he replied, his voice heavy with the weight of unspoken threats. “The bargain is set. There’s no going back now.”

That’s when your father’s voice began to escalate torn between the weight of his obligations no longer able to contain his frustration.

“We made the bargain between our planets, yes,” he said, his voice rising, sharp with anger. “But my daughter is a princess—my daughter—and I will not stand by and watch her be treated like some pawn in your twisted games! I want assurances—real assurances—that she will be unharmed!”

The Baron’s smile deepened with a steely coldness as he clasped his hands together. “This is no place for sentiment,” he interrupted. “You’ve already sold her future. You would do well to remember that.”

That is when the discussion escalated, voices from your father and his advisors rising with every point of contention, their frustration growing louder in the face of the now cackling Baron, and then something shifted. The air grew charged, dangerous, and you could feel it coming before anyone else did.

One of your father’s personal guards—a man known for his loyalty, yet prone to impulsiveness—had stepped too close to Feyd, perhaps provoked by the tension in the room. His words had been a sharp insult against the Harkonnens.

You watched, heart pounding, as Feyd moved faster than anyone expected.

With a fluidity that defied his size, Feyd was upon the guard before anyone could blink.

The guard didn’t even have time to react Feyd’s movements were a blur—brutal, efficient, and terrifyingly precise.

In a heartbeat, he slammed the guards head against the table, his knife pressed to the man’s throat, his eyes alight with a cold controlled fury.

There was no hesitation, no moment of indecision. Feyd had claimed dominance in an instant, the guard left shocked he was now under the threat of death.

Feyds control over the situation was absolute. The room held its breath, waiting for him to make the kill, and for a moment—you thought he would.

The room was silent, the only sound the faint rasps of the guard’s breathing under Feyd’s blade.

But Feyd didn’t kill him. Instead, he leaned in close, his voice low and dangerous as he whispered something in the guard’s ear. Whatever it was, you couldn’t hear it, but the look of sheer terror on the guard’s face told you enough.

Feyd withdrew the blade slowly, deliberately, as though savoring the moment. Then, just as quickly as he had attacked, he stepped back, his face returning to a mask of cold indifference.

You had felt your pulse quicken, excitement rushing through you. There was something about him—his precision, his control, the way he could command a room with nothing more than a glance and a blade.

You had heard tales of his brutality, but seeing it in person was different. It was intoxicating. Where others might have felt fear, you felt something else—something far more dangerous.

It was in that moment, as Feyd stepped away from the trembling guard, his gaze sweeping across the room, that his eyes met yours for the first time. The connection was brief, just a flicker, but it was enough. His lips curved ever so slightly, as he stared at you as if he had already claimed you.

There was no warmth in his gaze, no affection—only the cold certainty that he saw you as his inevitable prize. And yet, the intensity of his focus made it impossible for you to think of anything else. It was almost maddening the way he could make you feel like he already owned you, without ever laying a hand on you and it was the beginning of something darkly inevitable.

He had seen you watching him, and you had seen him for what he truly was—a force of control, of power, of dominance. You had always heard the Harkonnens were dangerous, but it wasn’t until you saw Feyd that day you realized how deeply you craved that danger. And from that moment on, your obsession with him began to grow.

You hadn’t been given a choice in the matter; the day of the marriage ceremony had already been arranged on Giedi Prime.

It was assumed you would be an unwilling captive, terrified of this unhinged manipulative Harkonnen. Everyone warned you to be prepared for the worst, to expect coldness, cruelty—maybe even pain.

But they didn’t know you.

As the shuttle landed, your anticipation only grew, a thrill sparking deep inside you. You were completely obsessed with him now, this future Baron whose reputation was so dark, so cruel. You craved what others feared. And tomorrow, on your wedding night, you would finally be his.

The wedding was a cold, efficient ceremony. The Harkonnen traditions were harsh, foreign to you, but strangely exhilarating.

The current Baron watched carefully, his calculating gaze never leaving you as the guards led you forward to Feyd-Rautha.

The Baron had anticipated seeing you recoil at the sight of his nephew—his cruel sneer already forming as you placed your hand in Feyd’s.

But the excitement that rushed through you as you laid eyes on the tall, imposing Feyd-Rautha was hidden behind a mask of composer. You kept your expression calm, but inside, the thrill of standing next to him, of touching him, surged through you.

You couldn’t wait to be his, your obsession for him building from the moment you laid eyes on him. He was powerful and irresistible, your desire for him deepening with every glance you stole in his direction.

He had barely spoken a word to before the ceremony but his presence sent waves of anticipation through you. He was strong, and intelligent, his angular features making him impossibly attractive in a sinister way.

His blue eyes gleamed with something dark, something dangerous, and you knew instantly you wanted him, all of him, no matter how twisted or cruel he might be.

The procession began at dawn, the sky a sickly red as the first light filtered through the grimy atmosphere of the planet. The ceremonial gown they had chosen for you was unlike any wedding attire you had ever imagined, an artifact of Harkonnen cruelty.

It was not designed for beauty or grace, but to impose dominance, to encase you in the rigid structure of their traditions.

You were sewn into the gown, the black fabric clinging so tightly to your body that it was suffocating in its embrace, your chest the only thing free from the bodice.

The garment was designed to restrain you—to remind you of the life you were about to enter, one ruled by dominance and power.

Feyd, standing at the altar, wore a regal garment—black with crimson accents, the Harkonnen emblem across his chest.

His presence was commanding, his expression cold and unreadable, but you could feel the intensity of his gaze, his claim laid into to you long before the ritual even began.

The ceremony itself was a test, not just of loyalty, but of strength, a series of grueling customs meant to solidify the union between you and the Harkonnen House.

The first was a Blood Oath, an ancient Harkonnen tradition that required both partners to spill their blood as a symbol of their commitment, not just to each other, but to the house itself.

A ceremonial blade was presented to Feyd, its edge gleaming dangerously in the low light of the grand hall.

Feyds blood was the first to be offered,a symbol of his dominance and control, and you felt your breath quicken as you watched.

Feyd sliced a shallow cut across his palm, the dark blood pooling in his hand. There was no hesitation in his gaze, no sign of pain—just the cold, calculated determination you had come to expect from him.

You had known this moment was coming, had steeled yourself for it, and yet when he reached for your hand, the weight of the ritual suddenly became far more real.

Feyd’s grip on your hand was firm, his fingers wrapping around yours pulling your hand over the chalice. The cold steel of the blade brushed against your skin, and Feyds eyes searched yours for any hint of fear or hesitation, but you held his gaze, refusing to look away.

The blade hovered just above your palm, the sharp edge gleaming as Feyd pressed it gently against your skin. You could feel the pressure, the promise of pain, and then, with one swift motion, the blade sliced through the delicate skin of your hand.

The sting was immediate, sharp and precise, and for a brief moment, the world seemed to narrow down to that single point of contact.

You gasped softly, the sound barely audible in the silence of the hall, as warm blood began to trickle from the cut. It slid down your fingers in slow, deliberate streams, mingling with Feyd’s blood as it dripped into the chalice below. The crimson liquid swirled together, yours bright red, his dark and thick, a tangible symbol of the bond you had just forged.

Your heart raced, the steady thrum of it loud in your ears as you locked eyes with Feyd again.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still. The weight of what had just transpired settled heavily over you, as though the air itself had thickened.

You were no longer two individuals. You were bound by blood, by ritual, by something far deeper than any wedding ceremony could signify.

Feyd held your gaze a moment longer, the intensity between you almost suffocating, before he finally let go of your hand. The cut still throbbed, the blood still trickled down your skin, but the pain was secondary now— your fate had just been sealed.

The chalice, filled with the mingling blood, was lifted by the Baron as your hands were mended, a cold twisted grin of satisfaction playing at the corners of his lips as he inspected the contents. He swirled the blood together, indistinguishable now, just as your fates had become.

“You are one now,” the Baron rasped, his voice carrying a note of finality. “Bound in blood, as it should be.”

He offered the chalice to Feyd, who drank from it readily, his throat moving as he swallowed. You watched intently, your heartbeat quickening, knowing you were next.

Feyd offered the chalice to you held in both hands. His eyes bore into yours, filled with expectation and a dark intensity, silently urging you to drink. There was something in his gaze—commanding, almost daring—as if he needed to see you do it, to watch you take part in this ritual that bound you to him.

Determined to honor his custom, you took the chalice from his hands into your own and did not look at what you drank, only swiftly bringing the edge to your lips.

Just a swallow—and immediately, you knew Feyd’s blood was different, like ink spreading along your tongue, the metallic taste thick and lingering, refusing to dissipate just like this moment, you would never soon forget.

But it wasn’t enough to simply give your blood.

The next custom was known as the Trial of Chains, an ordeal designed to test your endurance and your willingness to submit to the will of House Harkonnen.

You were led to the center of the hall, where an iron structure loomed—a symbolic relic of Harkonnen dominance. Heavy, dark chains were draped over your arms and shoulders. You were forced to stand, unmoving, while the Baron himself recited a list of oaths you would take.

The weight of the chains grew unbearable with each passing moment, your muscles straining under the pressure, but you knew that showing weakness was not an option.

Every Harkonnen wedding had this trial, a display to prove the new spouse’s fortitude. Failure meant dishonor, and in some cases, death.

As the trial continued, Feyd watched you closely, his eyes scanning your every movement, gauging whether you would falter.

But you did not. Despite the heaviness of the chains, despite the cold sweat that began to form on your brow, you stood still, the weight nothing compared to the determination to please him.

By the time the Baron finished the oaths, you felt as though the chains had become a part of you—symbols of the power and control you had willingly accepted.

The last and most chilling custom was The Binding of the Will, a psychological test unique to the Harkonnen lineage.

A dark room was prepared beneath the Grand Hall, filled with a hypnotic scent that that made your lungs feel heavy with every breath.

A veil was placed upon your head, its fabric heavy and oppressive. It was made from a black intricate fabric that seemed to shimmer faintly in the low light. It was woven with delicate, sinister patterns—symbols of submission, of ancient power.

The weight of the veil was almost suffocating, obscuring your vision slightly, casting everything around you in a dim, distorted haze.

You could feel its texture against your skin, cold and unyielding, a physical reminder of the role you were about to play.

You were made to kneel on a white cold stone altar, your knees resting on the unyielding surface as you felt the weight of the veil draped over your head.

Feyd took his place in front of you and you were left alone together in the dimly lit room.

In the heavy silence, you could hear your own shallow breathing, loud and uneven beneath the heavy veil.

Each breath felt more labored, the weight of the ritual and the veil combining to stir a slight panic in your chest.

For a brief moment, it felt overwhelming—the room, the ritual, the weight of the fabric that seemed to trap you in place. But then, through the haze of the veil, you caught sight of Feyd’s eyes.

He was watching you, his gaze almost reverent for what you had endured, and that look alone—anchored you to him.

His hand reached for yours, lightly tracing his finger along your outstretched palm.

It was something you somehow knew was against tradition, against his customs, and yet you couldn’t help but smile at him, utterly enamored.

He met your eyes, and there was a flicker of satisfaction in them, a possessive gleam that held you in place. Then, just as quickly, his hand slipped away, clasped behind his back.

The doors to the room slowly opened as an ancient Harkonnen master entered draped in a cloak of shadows.

In his hands he held a metal prism. His movements were slow and paced, his form almost blending into the darkness that surrounded him.

He approached Feyd offering him the prism without a word which Feyd accepted with reverence bringing it to his forehead before lowering it to his chest.

It was an old relic ancient even, passed down through generations of Harkonnens, The dark, polished surface gleamed under the low light.

Feyd then brought the prism toward you and under your veil. His hand was steady as he pressed a hidden mechanism. With a soft click, the panels unfolded and a cloud of smoke plumed from it.

You tried not to inhale it, but the smoke found its way into your lungs thick and sweet with every shallow breath.

Slowly a warmth began to seep into your veins, spreading inch by inch through your body, a creeping sensation, as though something dark was settling inside you, rooting itself deep within.

You softly gasped as everything around you blurred, the room seeming to shift and warp before your eyes, becoming both infinite and claustrophobic all at once.

Your limbs grew heavy, but your mind floated away, detached from the physical weight of your body.

The air was no longer suffocating but welcoming, each breath drawing you deeper into a dreamlike haze.

Feyd watched you closely until your head lulled your eyes fluttering, then he closed the lid removing the prism.

The master began speaking a series of words in a language you didn’t recognize, words that held a strange, almost hypnotic power.

The words, when spoken, worked deep into your mind, attempting to root out your fears, your weaknesses, and plant a binding suggestion that you would never defy the will of your husband, nor the Harkonnen family.

This binding wasn’t meant to break your spirit completely, but rather to tether it—making sure that, while you might fight or resist, you would always come back, always remain under his control.

The master’s voice was a low, droning chant, and with every word, you felt an eerie surge of calm settle over you, as though the very air was wrapping around your mind, coaxing it to bend.

By the end of the ritual, you felt a strange sense of liberation and captivity.

You had passed every test, met every challenge. You had shown them that you were worthy to stand beside Feyd Rautha, but in doing so, you had also surrendered a part of yourself to the darkness that was the Harkonnen legacy.

As the ceremony concluded, Feyd stepped toward you, the cold, calculating look in his eyes replaced with something deeper, more genuine. He took your hands in his, and though the touch was possessive, you felt a connection, a burning energy between you.

The Baron watched from the shadows as Feyd removed the veil, his lips curling into a twisted smile. You had passed the tests and now you belonged to Feyd-Rautha, bound by blood, chains, and will.

As you walked together from the hall, the dark traditions of the Harkonnen now coursing through your veins, you realized you had entered their world, and you would never leave it.

The moment the heavy doors of the ceremonial mating chambers closed behind you, the air between you shifted, the atmosphere thickening with unspoken tension.

Feyd’s eyes bore into you, calculating what he do with you now that you were alone.

His dark gaze made your pulse quicken, and you could feel the anticipation thrumming through your veins.

“You enjoyed the ceremony, didn’t you?” Feyd’s voice asks with a low rasp, as he took a slow step toward you, his strong frame towering over yours.

“You are the first bride to complete it,” he reveals, his eyes gleaming with dark satisfaction.

You meet his gaze without flinching, though a strange haze clouds your thoughts, a light sweat dampening your skin.

Whatever they had given you during the ceremony still lingers in your body, making everything feel distant and sharp all at once.

Your heart races with your limbs feeling heavy and light at the same time but a dangerous, daring look flickers in your eyes.

“Maybe I am not like most brides.” You respond the words slipping from your lips.

A wicked smile tugs at the corner of Feyds lips with intrigue. “No, I suppose you’re not,” he says, his eyes dark with something unspoken as he watches you, his gaze lingering on the subtle glisten of your skin.

He moves closer, his hand suddenly gripping your chin, tilting your head up to meet his eyes.

His touch is firm, possessive, his fingers cold against your skin, but it only makes you crave more.

“Do you know what’s expected of you tonight?” he asks, his voice low and dark, watching the way your eyes flutter slightly under the heavy weight of opium coursing through your veins from the ritual.

You nod, your breath catching in your throat. “Yes.”

Something flickers in Feyd’s eyes—interest, surprise—and a slight grin forms at the corner of his lips.

“On your knees,” he says, his voice low and commanding. His tone leaves no room for hesitation, and your legs move of their own accord, sinking into the cold black stone floor beneath you.

Feyd takes his time, circling you , assessing you. His footsteps are slow, deliberate, as the anticipation increases within you, your skin prickling with both fear and excitement.

“You think you understand what tonight is,” he muses, stopping behind you. His fingers sliding into your hair, pulling gently at first, then sharply enough to yank your head back making you cry out.

“Pleasure and pain” he says softly releasing your hair. “Because only through one can you fully experience the other.”

Your heart races as he leaves your side, pressing a button that makes a sleek ledge rise from the floor. When it reaches the desired height, a lid slides back, revealing several items on its surface.

You can’t see what he’s selecting, but the soft clink of metal makes your breath catch in your throat, sending a wave of anticipation coursing through you.

He returns, standing before you once more, and in his hands, he holds two items—one, a smooth handled device with a phallic tip that that glints menacingly in the dim light, and the other, a small, polished stone that pulses with a faint, white inner glow.

His lips curl into a smirk as he crouches down to meet your eye level.

“Do you know what these are?” he asks the question rhetorical as you look at each object.

“No” you breathe looking up to him.

“These will show me everything I need to know about you—how much you can take before you break.” He grins.

He manipulates the handled phallic device turning it on with a quiet hum that makes your nerves tingle. Without warning, he lifts your gown pressing the phallic tip between your legs against your clit, its vibrations intense and immediate.

Your body jerks at the sensation, your muscles tightening against the onslaught of stimulation. Feyd’s eyes darken as he watches you struggle to maintain control, your hips rocking as you begin to give in.

“You will stay still,” he commands, his voice laced with authority. “No matter how much you want to move, you will stay right here until I say otherwise.”

You stifle yourself as the device steadily hums against you, its pulsing rhythm sending waves of pleasure through your body teasing the edges of your desire, leaving you aching for more.

Feyd watches every twitch of your body, every slight movement of your hips as you try, unsuccessfully, to remain still, enduring the pleasure. His eyes gleam with sadistic delight, savoring your frustration as your arousal drips from the device onto the floor.

You want to scream in pleasure, and just when you think you can’t handle any more, Feyd reaches for the glowing stone. The warmth radiating from it as he places it against your chest where it remains in place without his touch.

A sudden, electric current emits from the stone, shooting through your chest, igniting every nerve ending in your body. It is unlike anything you have ever felt before —and the dual stimulation of pleasure and pain begins to overwhelm your senses.

The vibrations from the device meld with the energy from the stone, sending jolts of pleasure and pain coursing through your body. Your muscles tense and weaken under the unrelenting stimulation, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as each wave of sensation builds, layer upon layer, until you’re trembling in desperation.

“Not yet,” Feyd whispers as his hands finally began to roam over your body. His fingers grazing your constricting gown with approval, amplifying the sensation of the two forces at work within you. He is testing you, pushing you to the edge, but will not allow you to fall.

His hand grasps your chin tilting your face upwards to meet his eyes. “You’re mine, and tonight, you’ll learn what that means.” He says looking at you with a grin, his black smile so seductive you involuntarily moan for him.

He twists the handled device between your legs, forcing the phallus inside of you. The onslaught of pleasure is relentless, its rhythm changing every time you think you might get used to the intensity.

The stone on your chest begins sending sharper pulses of pain through you, alternating with the vibrations, each shock more intense than the last.

You try to stay still, try to obey, but your body starts betraying you. Your hips move involuntarily with the device, and a low tsk from Feyd tells you he has noticed and is displeased.

His hand is suddenly in your hair, yanking your head back, his other hand pressing the stone harder against your chest, making the sensation intolerable as you wince in pain.

“If you come you will be punished ” he rasps darkly, his voice sharp in the silence of the room.

“But if you last I will please you greatly.” He says releasing the stones intensity. “But until then, you will endure” he commands.

His words send a fresh wave of desire coursing through you, the challenge in his tone igniting something deep within. His test pushing you, daring you to prove yourself to him.

His hand begins to stroke your chin as you look up to him tears brimming your eyes faint cries rolling from your lips as you endure.

He revels in your torment, the way your body does not react to what he knows is agonizing you in the most pleasurable way.

The sensations start to become too much, your entire body feels as if it’s on fire, each pulse from the stone, each vibration from the device driving you closer and closer to the edge of madness as a startling sound rips from your throat.

And then, as if knowing you are breaking, Feyd yanks the stone from your chest, now intensely glowing red as you fall to the floor gasping and trembling.

The metallic device still pulses inside of you, amplifying only the pleasure which now floods your body and the intensity is unlike anything you’ve ever felt—so extreme it feels like it’s tearing through you.

Unable to hold back any longer, you feel your body finally give in. Every muscle tightens as your thighs tremble uncontrollably and a shudder runs through as you gasp against the floor.

Feyd watches you closely, his eyes gleaming with dark satisfaction as you come, your body quivering until you finally go limp, completely spent.

He waits for a moment, savoring the sight of you laid before him, your chest rising and falling as you pant, utterly drained.

Then, with deliberate slowness, he reaches for the handle of the device, gripping it firmly.

His movements are controlled and methodical, as he pulls it out of you, the sound of it leaving your body echoes in the stillness of the room, the slick, drenched surface glistening under the low light.

You lie there, weak and breathless, every nerve in your body still on fire from the intensity of what you’ve just experienced.

Feyd slowly grabs a blade from the table, his eyes never leaving yours as he kneels over you, the cold steel gleaming menacingly in his grasp.

The sight of the blade sends a shiver of anticipation through you as Feyd brings it closer to your body, his smile dark and dangerous. His hand traces the lines of the dress, sewn tightly against you, a symbol of the Harkonnen dominance.

“This dress was made to bind you,” he rasps, the blade gleaming in his hand. “When I cut you free, you are mine entirely.” He reveals as he lowers the blade.

His movements are deliberate, calculated, and when the sharp edge of the blade touches the fabric of your gown, you can feel your heart beat quicken.

With a slow, precise motion, he drags the blade through the fabric, the sound of tearing cloth echoing in the stillness of the room.

The gown gives way easily under the sharp edge, the fabric splitting open in precise lines that expose your skin inch by inch. He carves through the material with deliberate precision, freeing you from its confines.

As the last of the gown falls away, you inhale deeply, no longer constricted by the fabric that bound you, the cool air of the room inviting against your bare skin.

Every inch of you is exposed to Feyd, the sensation sharp and invigorating, heightening the awareness of your vulnerability beneath him.

Feyd smirks as he looks down at you, his blade in hand, fully aware of the power he holds over you.

His eyes linger on your nakedness, and you can see the way his desire intensifies, the subtle shift in his expression betraying how aroused he is.

His gaze travels over you with an almost possessive satisfaction, taking in every inch of you knowing you are his to command.

“I will breed you now,” he says, his fingers brushing your skin, just lightly enough to drive you mad. “And you will come for me many times before dawn.”

He stands over you, his dominance absolute, his eyes never leaving yours as he places the blade upon the table.

He removes his ceremonial garments, pulling and unclasping each piece from his body until he’s fully revealed. Beneath the dim light, the chiseled lines of his physique are striking—each muscle sharply defined, his body sculpted with raw strength and power.

His broad shoulders and chest taper down to a trim waist, the smooth, hairless perfection of his skin highlighting the contours of his abs and the hard lines of his arms.

His pale skin gleams under the dim light, his presence is overwhelming, his body a masterpiece of raw strength and dominance.

Your gaze travels down his body, exploring every inch with growing anticipation. When your eyes settle on the impressive size of his cock, you are filled with awe. The pink tip stands proudly from the thick, veined length of his shaft, and you can’t help but feel a surge of reverence, even honor, knowing that he intends to claim you.

Feyd is a force—ruthless, calculating, powerful and the knowledge that you now belong to him fills you with anticipation and desire.

He takes your arms, pulling you from the floor with a firm grip, and presses you down onto the cold, smooth surface of the mating altar.

The slick texture beneath your back sends a shiver through you, amplifying your sense of submission and vulnerability.

Without a word, he grasps your ankle, guiding it into a stirrup, securing it firmly before doing the same with the other.

Your legs are spread apart, knees bent, leaving you completely vulnerable to him. The air feels heavy as Feyd stands before you, his gaze dark and possessive, ready to take what is his.

His hand trails down your body, possessive and slow. “Tonight, you’ll know exactly what it means to belong to me,” he muses, his voice laced with dark promise.

Without breaking his gaze from yours, he presses a button, opening a small compartment on the panel at the foot of the alter pulling out a sleek syringe.

It faintly glows as he dispenses a translucent gel onto his fingers, the substance shimmering slightly in the dim light.

Feyds eyes are dark and calculating, as he slowly reaches between your legs, his fingers moving with deliberate precision.

His touch is cold at first, the gel slick as it coats his fingers, and with a slow, measured motion, he begins to slick it along your folds, his fingers tracing with meticulous care.

Feyd smirks as he softly spreads the gel between your legs, his eyes dark and calculating. “A special preparation, designed to ensure the legacy.” He says pressing his fingers against your entrance.

Then without hesitation he pushes his fingers inside of you, the gel cool and slick heightening every sensation.

“The Harkonnen lineage demands results,” he says, his tone filled with authority, “and I will make sure you fulfill that role.”

He slowly glides them deeper into you, the gel’s slickness easing their penetration. He watches you closely, his expression unreadable as his fingers move with a precision that makes you fully aware this is only the beginning of what he has planned.

His fingers reach a depth that makes you instinctively tighten around him, then he pushes slightly further, finding that perfect place as sudden a gentle ache begins pulsing on both sides of your core.

He pulls his fingers back possessively, his eyes locking onto yours.

“Another night, I will waste you entirely this way,” he says, his voice low and commanding. “But tonight is ensuring you belong to me, body, mind, and future.” He reveals his gaze deep with determination at the thought of owning every part of you.

The wedding night has only just begun, and already, you are his—completely and utterly his to control.

He runs his hands affectionately down your trapped legs, the touch unexpectedly soft, savoring the moment. His fingers trail along your skin, leaving a path of warmth in their wake, before he grips your legs firmly, holding them in place.

“You will fulfill your role as Baroness” he says with a slow, deliberate motion as he settles between your legs his weight pressing down on you.

“Your body will serve me in ways that will bind you to me forever.” he says almost to himself as his fingertips slowly trail along your cheek.

His gaze is deep, penetrating, as if he’s looking into your very soul, claiming you before a single word is spoken.

You reach up, grabbing hold of Feyd’s neck pulling him down, your lips pressing against his in a heated desperate kiss.

The boldness of your action surprises him, a low sound of approval escaping his throat as your body presses against his, your breaths mingling together.

You kiss him harder, your fingers digging into his neck, your desperation undeniable. “Now,” you whisper between breaths, “I want—I want all of you, now Feyd”

Feyd pulls back slightly, a wicked grin spreading across his face, his eyes gleaming with dark satisfaction.

“You will have all of me, and more than you know how to handle.” he rasps, his voice certain.

Then, without another word, he positions himself, his cock hard and heavy in his hand as he strokes it, squeezing to the tip until pre-cum beads at the slit.

The intensity in his gaze never leaves yours as he takes his time pressing his large cock into you. He’s agonizingly slow, making sure you feel every ridge, every vein as your body stretches around him.

You moan in pleasure your grasp tightening onto his neck “Yes,” you breathe out, your voice trembling as he pushes deeper, “yes, yes,” the words slipping from your lips as he begins to thrust into you, the fullness of his cock overwhelming in its size exactly what you craved.

His grin only deepens as he takes you, savoring the moment, “I thought you’d resist…—fight against your new role…—but here you are, begging for it.” He says on every push of his hips.

“Yes,” you breathe, barely able to contain the rush of sensation. “Yes, I want it.”

His smirk deepens, black teeth gleaming as he sets a relentless pace into you.

Your vision blurs, the room spinning as your mind struggles to process the sheer intensity of what’s happening.

The wedding night is unlike anything you had imagined, and yet, it was everything you craved.

Feyd was unhinged, just as they had warned you: possessive, controlling, his thrusts rough and intoxicating, every part of your body fulfilled, pushing you to your limits.

Your moans of his name are so loud he thinks he is breaking you, pushing you too far, but he didn’t know you.

Every time he pushes harder, you revel it, moaning his name, craving more. The harder he breeds you, the more you respond, your body meeting his every thrust, your breathless gasps filling the room.

Feyd’s eyes widen as he realizes what is happening—that you are in pleasure, as unhinged as he is, that you crave the same intensity he does. A grin spreads across his face, wild and dangerous and he leans in, pressing his lips to your ear.

“You enjoy this, don’t you?” he whispers, his voice rough with desire.

“Yes,” you gasp, your nails digging into his back, pulling him closer. “I want more Feyd.”

Something shifts in him hearing those words, his expression darkening with pleasure. He grips your wrists, pinning them above your head as he looms above you, his breath hot and heavy.

“You’re more resilient than I thought,” he reveals with a grin his voice filled with both awe and approval.

“I will give you what you desire” he says his eyes gleaming with a twisted satisfaction, as if this unexpected strength only fuels his desire to push you further.

He watches you with a heated, intense gaze, his eyes dark with hunger as his hips snap forward, driving his deepest inside you.

The world narrows to just that moment—the raw, intensifying pleasure that feels too much, too good.

Each thrust after sends shockwaves through your body, and you can feel yourself unraveling, the sensation in your veins too powerful to contain.

Your breaths catch as your mouth opens in desperate moan, your eyes locking with Feyd, the way he takes you wracking your body in ways you never thought possible.

The sensation is dizzying, overwhelming, pushing you right to the edge of sanity. You can barely think, your mind clouded, altered, willing to surrender everything just to have more of him, more of this.

He continues to thrust his hardest, the force of his cock sending a tidal wave of ecstasy that crashes through, leaving you trembling, breathless.

Your body can no longer keep up with the intensity, and every nerve is on fire as you fall, completely undone, spiraling into bliss as everything inside you clenches tight, then releases in a flood of sensation that leaves you gasping.

Feyd feels you clenching on him as he stares into your eyes watching a strangled moan escape your lips, your body shaking as you come.

As your walls tighten around him, his control wavers, his face softening with a raw, unguarded intensity. His hands grip you tighter, fingers digging into your skin as if anchoring himself to keep from completely falling apart. A low, primal sound emits from his throat, rough and strained, as he fights to maintain control.

You look up into his eyes, meeting that fierce, possessive gaze, and in that instant, something shifts. The warmth of his come spreads deep inside you, filling you with a sense of completeness that takes your breath away. You gasp, the moment overwhelming, binding you to him in a way words could never convey.

His hold tightens further, a silent claim, sealing the connection between you, leaving no doubt that you are his—now and always.

Before the aftershocks have even faded, you already crave him again, desperate for more, for him to fill you and take you over and over again until there’s nothing left but pleasure.

“-Please…” you beg him feeling the heat in your body remain.

Feyd chuckles, low and dark, his voice heavy with satisfaction as his lips brush against your ear, “I’ve completely wrecked you… and you still want more.” His hand cups your face, forcing your eyes to meet his, the smirk on his lips wicked.

“You’d do anything, for me wouldn’t you?” He asks pulling his cock back, just enough to make you feel the loss. “And I’m just getting started.”

The night continues, a blur of pleasure and pain, of control and surrender. Feyd pushes you further than you thought possible your obsession with him deepening with every new position.

He releases you from your restraints flipping onto your front and taking you again, his hands pinning your arms to the mat. The tension between his grip and the rhythm of his thrusts building until you come, trembling beneath him.

He pulls you back on your hands and knees his hand firmly at the back of your neck pressing your face into the mat. His hips driving into you from behind, each thrust harder than the last, until he finally comes satisfied with his release deep within you.

He brings you on all fours his fingers teasing your clit to work you faster as you push back against him until you come together.

He pulls you into his lap, hands cupping your breasts his mouth drawing new waves of pleasure from your core as he leans in to suck on each one. You ride him hard, feeling the heat between you growing until you shatter in his arms.

And as the night goes on, position after position you realize he is just as obsessed with you as you are with him.

He has found someone who can match his intimacy, someone who craves the same things he does, and it thrills him to no end.

By the time dawn breaks over the cold, industrial landscape of Geidi Prime, you lay together, your bodies spent, his arm draped possessively over you. His eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he looks down at you, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your skin.

“You surprised me,” he says, his voice softer now more affectionate. “I didn’t think you could handle me. But you did… and more.”

You smile, feeling a sense of victory, of pride. “I told you… I am not like most brides.”

Feyd chuckles, his lips brushing against your temple. “You will make a fine Baroness for me.” He says, with a deep sense of satisfaction.

“I will have you as my Baron many times,” you whisper, the words sending a thrill through you. You had craved him, all of him—his strength, his control, his darkness. And now, you had it.

Feyd smiles down at you, his fingers brushing along your hair. “Good.” He says his voice a dark satisfied rasp. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

🎃 END 🎃

🔗 Master List

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[amirasainz]

Can you please do reader is Charles and Alexandra ex but they are obsessed with her and can’t believe she dumped them, they trying to get her back but she’s moved on. Maybe only if your comfortable do Charles and Alex dark?

Alright, so this is my first time writing something dark. I hope I did a good job. Pease keep in ind that this is just a story for entertainement and nothing about this is real.

Enjoy reading and send me some requests!!!

-XoXo

In the grip of obsession

The room was spinning, a dull throb pulsing at the back of Y/N’s head. Her eyelids were heavy, her limbs weak and uncooperative. Darkness surrounded her, but as her senses slowly returned, she realized she wasn’t in the club anymore. She wasn’t anywhere familiar.

The cold, sterile scent of the room mingled with the faint smell of expensive cologne. Panic crept in as she tried to move, her body betraying her as her muscles refused to respond. Her wrists felt raw, tightly bound behind her back. She could feel soft silk pressed against her skin, but the comfort of the fabric was overshadowed by the hard chair beneath her.

Slowly, Y/N forced her eyes open, squinting against the dim light filtering in from a nearby window. Shadows danced across the room, but through the haze of confusion, one thing became terrifyingly clear—she was not alone.

"Finally awake, mon amour?" a voice broke the silence, soft but with an undercurrent of dangerous obsession.

Charles.

Her heart dropped into her stomach as her eyes darted around the room, finally landing on him. He stood by the window, his silhouette illuminated by the streetlights outside, his piercing eyes locked onto her. His usual boyish charm was gone, replaced by something darker, more unhinged.

"You shouldn’t have gone out," came another voice from the corner of the room, this one softer but no less menacing. Alexandra stepped into the light, her arms crossed as she studied Y/N like a predator watching its prey. "You knew better than that."

Y/N's mouth was dry, her throat burning as she tried to speak, but all that came out was a ragged whisper, "W-what... What is this?"

Charles walked toward her, crouching in front of her chair. His face, usually so handsome and full of life, was twisted with something she could only describe as obsession. He reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. She flinched, but he didn’t seem to notice—or maybe he didn’t care.

"This," he whispered, "is where you belong."

Her heart pounded in her chest as the realization set in. This wasn’t a nightmare she could wake up from. This was real.

"Why are you doing this?" Y/N's voice was shaky, fear creeping into every word. She tugged at the ropes binding her hands, but they didn’t give.

"You broke up with us," Alexandra said coldly, stepping closer, her eyes narrowing. "You thought you could just walk away? After everything we’ve been through? After all the hate you put up with for us?"

"That wasn’t your choice to make," Charles added, his voice low and dangerous. "You belong to us, Y/N. You always did."

She shook her head, her vision still blurry, but the horror of the situation cut through the fog in her mind. "You’re insane... both of you."

Charles chuckled, his eyes darkening. "Maybe. But we don’t care anymore. We tried to let you go, we really did. But you’re everywhere, Y/N. Every time I close my eyes, I see you. Every race, every podium, every fucking interview, it’s you. I can’t breathe without thinking about you."

"Neither can I," Alexandra said, her voice calmer but no less disturbing. "You broke us, Y/N. And now we’re just fixing what you broke."

"You can’t do this," Y/N gasped, her voice cracking with desperation. "Let me go, Charles. Alex, please..."

But they just stared at her, unmoved by her pleas.

"You went out clubbing, Y/N," Alexandra said, almost scolding. "Dressed like that, with those friends of yours. You’ve moved on, haven’t you?"

Y/N didn’t answer, too scared of what they’d do if she told the truth.

"You’re ours," Charles growled, his patience wearing thin. He grabbed her chin roughly, forcing her to look at him. His eyes blazed with possessiveness. "You always were, and you always will be. We were too nice before, letting you walk away like that. But not anymore."

Tears stung Y/N's eyes as she struggled against the restraints. Her wrists burned, her head pounded, and the overwhelming feeling of dread consumed her.

"I don’t love you anymore," she whispered, her voice trembling.

For a moment, the room fell silent. Charles' grip tightened painfully on her jaw, his knuckles white with tension. Alexandra's eyes flashed dangerously.

"You don’t mean that," Charles said, though his voice wavered. He was trying to convince himself as much as her. "You’re just upset. You’ll remember soon enough how good we were together. We made you happy, Y/N."

"You made me miserable," she spat, her voice gaining strength despite the terror gripping her. "I couldn’t even go online without people tearing me apart for being with you. And you did nothing. You let them do it. You cared more about your careers than about me."

Alexandra's face twisted with fury. "That’s not true! We loved you—we love you. Those people were jealous, that's all. They hated that you had what they wanted."

Y/N shook her head, refusing to be gaslighted by them. "No, you loved the idea of me. But I was never enough for you."

Charles stood abruptly, pacing the room like a caged animal. His hands raked through his hair, frustration evident in every movement. "You don’t understand. You were everything to us! We just... we just didn’t know how to handle it then. But we do now."

Y/N’s pulse quickened as she saw the crazed determination in his eyes. They weren’t going to let her go. Not ever.

"You can’t keep me here," she said, trying to reason with them. "Someone will notice I’m missing. The team... my friends..."

Alexandra smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. "We’ve taken care of that. Everyone thinks you left the club with some random guy. They'll believe whatever story we give them."

Y/N’s stomach churned. She hadn’t realized how carefully they had planned this.

"You won’t get away with this," she whispered, though even she wasn’t sure she believed it.

"Oh, but we already have," Charles said, stepping closer again, his hand cupping her cheek with a false tenderness. "You’ll see, Y/N. In time, you’ll remember how good we are together. We’ll make you love us again."

Her breath hitched as she saw the manic intensity in his eyes. There was no reasoning with them. They had crossed a line, one from which they could never return.

"You can fight it," Alexandra said softly, brushing her fingers down Y/N’s arm, "but you won’t win. We’re not going to hurt you, Y/N. We just... we just need you back." Alex gave forcefully gave her a kiss on the lips, while Charles sucked the skin of her neck between his teeth, leaving a hickey behind. And just like that, they left.

Y/N closed her eyes, a tear slipping down her cheek. She was trapped, bound in more ways than one, and no one was coming to save her.

[kedsandtubesocks]

graveyard heart

Post Outbreak!Joel Miller (Hades) x F!Reader

summary: your mom, a FEDRA officer, warned you about the darkness lurking - it arrives as the underworld smuggling king and he is indeed dangerous (but oh so terrifyingly beautiful)

warnings & tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI. dark themes || dead dove: do not eat. loose retelling of the Hades & Persephone myth, canon divergent, kidnapping, hostage situation, enemies to lovers, age gap (reader’s age not mentioned but is a drinking adult & was a child on outbreak day), dubcon - power dynamics & possible stockholm syndrome, morally gray!Joel, controlling/complicated parental relationship, brief scenes of assault (not from Joel), canon typical violence (gun usage, blood, fights with infected, awful raiders and fireflies), discussion of grief/character deaths, angst with sexual tension, masturbation (f&m), smutty thoughts, finger sucking, cum eating, poetic allusions to smut, light spit kink, protective!Joel, slightly possessive!Joel

word count: 11.6k (i’m sorry)

a/n: HI PLEASE READ & BE AWARE OF THE CONTENT WARNINGS. This is my first stab at darker content for the fandom & I’m a bit nervous, i kindly ask that if this isn’t for you pls just keep scrolling - so i blame my 2014 8tracks hades & persephone playlist for this but here are are lol! this is my piece for @beskarandblasters the pedro pantheon challenge! also the biggest thank you to @pr0ximamidnight & @ahauntedcowboy for being the absolute angels & letting me scream about this lol, now to you, if you’re reading this too I also can’t thank you enough ♡

(i)

You rarely go outside after curfew, much less to a gathering hosted by smugglers.

Boston had one of the most prolific and stubborn smuggling systems across all the quarantine zones, or so from what you’ve heard. Your mother and the other FEDRA officers had mentioned many times how, once the fireflies were extinguished, the smugglers were the next to go.

Especially the man in charge of the entire network.

Known as the most prolific and notorious smuggler, no FEDRA officer has even seen him.

The ruler of the smugglers, the king of the underworld.

Now, you’re here at a secret warehouse gathering apparently hosted by the illusive man.

It’s rather impressive. Outside is a large warehouse, decayed and ancient. Inside, the old office spaces were gutted out to create a new building. Commotion radiates from it.

The underground world was painted to be something out of a terrifying horror story. The parties had been urban legends whispered around the QZ. Your oldest friend had urged you to finally sneak away to one.

“This will be your fun night out to celebrate your new big adult job!” She had argued. “And besides, you need to live a little. Don’t worry about your mom, just enjoy having fun for once!”

Your mom. If she knew you were here she’d pop a blood vessel or worse.

But your friend is right. You want to experience more, don’t want to feel stuck under your mom’s watch forever.

Panic still crawls over you though, like at any minute your mother might walk in and scream your name catching you.

“Y’okay there?”

You didn’t realize you’d be dazed out for so long until a voice draws you out of your thoughts.

The accent is so strikingly thick, a drawl you don’t hear often. The man standing by the mixture of the homebrewed moonshine takes your breath away.

Ruggedly handsome, with a beautiful striking nose, older and wearing the lines of age gracefully with his gray hair, he seems brewed of something fierce and wildly beautiful.

You almost feel too stunned to talk, but manage to blurt out an apology.

“Yeah I’m good, just never seen a party like this.” You admit.

The man hums a bored sort of noise before he nudges towards the table.

“Want anything?” He offers, and nodding you tell him to surprise you.

Even with a scruffy glare on his face, the man’s eyebrows raise ever slightly, surprised.

The drink he hands you is harsh, stings your nose, isn’t anything like the liquor you’ve drank with your mom. You even cough at its harsh taste.

“Don’t tell me you never drank before.” The mystery man’s voice sounds offended.

“I’ve drank before.” You fire back. “Just never anything like this.”

The man’s dark rust colored eyes survey you, actually scan you up and down, making your skin tighten, feeling strangely judged and exposed.

He takes a sip of his own drink, yet his gaze continues watching you.

“So ya lost? Is that how you ended up here?” His words are simple, cold, and a frown tugs at your lips.

“My friend was invited, decided to tag along.” Your reply is blunt

“Your friend,” he nods. “And they’re where?”

Notorious for being a roamer, even when you were younger, you’re not surprised your friend wandered away for a moment.

“Guess just went to enjoy the rest of the party.”

“It ain’t a party.” The man says deep.

“There’s alcohol, people enjoying half ass drinking games, this looks like a party.” You shrug surprisingly braver. Guess the home brewed alcohol did that.

This mystery man’s face scrunches up, like he’s annoyed with you. He simply just takes another sip of his drink.

Apologizing low, you also thank him again for the drink and decide to exit. The man doesn’t stop you. Now you go looking for your friend peeking around the party. No sign of her.

Slightly worried, you check outside.

What you discover petrifies you on sight. Your best friend tries to leave from the shadow of the guy she’s talking to. Before she can leave, his hands grab her arms, a dark prison refusing to let her go. With full force he slams her against the wall. A small scream escapes her, and fear drowns her eyes while the guy grins demonically.

You rush over fast. All you have is the drink on hand, but once you’re close enough you slam the hard plastic right against the man’s face.

He screams in pain at the sudden attack.

“Leave her the fuck alone!” You scream not caring you’re being loud. You scurry to grab your friend quickly.

“You little fucking cunt!” The attacker roars and turns to you. Wild blood streams down his nose.

He swings his fist, and you try to escape the path of impact. But it still lands a solid hard hit against the side of your head. A scream comes from your friend and everything stings. You try remembering the self defense training your mom tried drilling into you.

Until a hard impact cracks in the air.

You blink into focus. Your assailant is now on the ground.

And the grumpy mystery man you met stands above with a bloody knuckle.

He’s the one who punched the guy.

“What the fuck man?! Fucking bitch hit me first!” The bastard on the floor screams.

“Get the fuck outta here. Or else.” The mystery man barks.

The guy on the floor’s eyes go wide, like he’s finally taking in the man above. Even in the dark, you witness terror rise fast across the guy’s face.

In a possessed panic, the assailant snaps up and simply leaves.

Your head throbs where the hit landed, yet your eyes stay stuck on the man who came to rescue you.

A soft voice suddenly eases in, and you’re met with a striking older woman.

“Come on, let’s get you both back inside.” Her name is Tess, and she holds a sharp grace to her as she guides everyone to the makeshift kitchen.

You want to help your best friend clean up, but Tess orders you to sit down and reassures she’ll take care of your friend in one of the bathrooms.

“You need to sit and get your head checked out.” Your friend tells you, worried.

Before you can even move to follow her and Tess, your scruffy savior waltzes in.

“Sit down.” He barks at you and moves to grab a cooled bottle to hold against your head.

You hiss when the cold glass touches your head.

“You smashed the shit outta that drink into that fucker’s nose.” The man begins with a gruff mutter. “Got a lot more fight in ya than y’look.”

You snort.

“I just acted fast that’s all…” you mumble back.

Turning to the man, you earnestly thank him. However, his deep eyes, almost the color of ancient rust, already stare at you. His gaze is intense, sharply piercing.

“So why do you guys even throw parties? Does your boss know it doesn’t seem safe.” You comment.

“Mainly to show off the products we got.” The man explains gruffly.

Made sense.

“Wait, is your hand okay?” You suddenly blurt out remembering the blood staining his knuckles.

“M’fine.” He answers and moves his hand away before you can try examining it.

Footsteps walk into the room, and Tess returns. Her eyes gleam soft.

“Your friend’s doing good, actually making jokes and everything.”

Relief floods in.

This may be the sign to head home. It would take a lot to sneak back to your best friends’ apartment, especially this late.

“Headin’ out?” The man asks when you return from checking in on your friend.

You nod weakly.

“Don’t. It’s late. Plus we got space in the back you two can crash in.” Tess reassures, and you graciously thank her.

“Don’t thank me, Joel was the one who offered.” She grins nudging the man.

Joel, his name - it’s beautiful.

Joel glares terrifyingly hard at her. Tess simply shrugs.

So you thank Joel, even use his name. This serious but stunning man doesn’t say anything and instead walks towards the other door.

“Come on.” He suddenly commands. You and your friend rapidly follow him.

Just as promised there are rooms safely tucked away. Though room is a gracious term with the stacks of various boxes and rusty cluttered furniture, but you won’t complain.

Joel says nothing, simply shows you the room then leaves.

“He’s weird as fuck.” Your friend whispers. You had to agree.

Even in this back room space the hum of the party continues to leak in. The lights from the hallway become a sliver under the door.

Soon enough boots thump outside the door, and your eyes creak open. From the light under the door a shadow moves. You’re worried for a moment until a darker shadow goes to rest against the door.

More footsteps, lighter ones, come.

“Gonna sit there all night? You’ll get a creak in your fucking neck.” Tess.

“Just get back to the party.” Joel.

His voice rumbles back, and you feel wide awake now.

He’a staying in front of the door, keeping watch.

You don’t know this man, just met him tonight. But you’re comforted knowing he’s here. Safety is hard to find in this world. Yet soft residuals of it seem to reside buried within Joel.

When you wake up however, he’s gone nowhere to be found.

On the walk home, your best friend is thankfully upbeat.

“You know,” she comments. “I’m actually kinda a little bummed we didn’t get to meet the scary head smuggler guy.”

You laugh, a dark humored type thing.

“Yeah me too, but after last night I’m kind of glad.” You agree.

You might not have met the infamous smuggler kingpin, but meeting Joel felt precious in its own strange way.

(ii)

You run into Joel again - literally bump into him.

Trying to put all the papers and books into your bag, you step outside the school and collide into a hard body. But instead of stumbling and falling back, firm hands steady you. All your items still drop.

Something fierce constricts your throat when you focus on who you ran into.

Joel, a very grouchy Joel.

You immediately ramble out a mess of apologies while you try picking up everything. Joel silently crouches down to help gather your fallen items.

“You’re a teacher.” He notes with a gruff low rumble.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Just started this week…Someone’s gotta teach the kids what the water cycle is.” You joke.

He snorts very faintly, and your heart jumps.

The handsome man has been in your mind ever since the party. Now he’s materialized here.

Your mom calls your name walking out of the building.

In her commander FEDRA officer uniform, you hate more than ever that she’s wearing it.

“Who’s this?!” Her eyes immediately flicker suspiciously to Joel as she smiles politely.

“Someone I just ran into that’s all.” You quickly answer.

Rapidly you turn back to Joel and politely thank him again for helping pick up your scattered papers.

Joel statically nods. But you don’t miss the way his eyes narrow at your mom before he leaves.

Your mother doesn’t seem to pay him any mind, not bothered by a stranger. A very FEDRA Trait.

When your first late night working at the school comes, that has your mom worried.

“I can call in and walk you home once you’re done.” She urges.

You’re an adult. You’ve faced scarier things. After much persistence, thankfully your mother begrudgingly relents.

The sky looks beautiful when you step out of the building. You can’t see the stars often from here but still feel comforted seeing a few twinkles above.

“Keep staring off like that and you’re gonna bump into someone again.”

The familiar gruff voice jolts your heart into overdrive. When your focus whips back to earth, Joel stands a few steps away.

“Fancy running into you again.” You beam, feeling your heart flutter at the sight of him.

Joel shrugs. “My way back from work came this way again.”

“Mind some company?” He nudges his chin towards you and you quickly, embarrassingly fast, you welcome him to join you.

Joel falls into step besides you.

You ask about how his day went, and he shrugs simply saying it’s been fine.

“So, your mom’s a FEDRA officer.” He suddenly comments.

You had a feeling he’d mention it. You almost want to make a joke that she just stole the uniform. But it’s hard with how Joel’s gaze seems to simply pierce through whatever he sets his eyes onto.

“I promise,” you blurt. “I haven’t told her about the party or anything.”

Joel nods, silent again.

Abruptly he stops walking. You do as well. The soft evening lights color the streets a dingy muted gray. The curfew call would arrive soon. There’s already barely anyone on the street.

He sighs turning to you. That sword's sharp piercing gazes of his makes you worried.

“This is my stop here.” He nudges to the apartment complex across the street. “But can walk ya home, if you want.”

You exhale relieved, even find fondness sneaks in.

“Oh no, it’s okay, it’s late anyway.” You earnestly thank him.

Suddenly a hand swings across your face out from behind. A cloth covers your mouth. Before you can even scream your eyes flicker heavy.

Joel is the last blurred sight you see before darkness overcomes you.

Groggily opening your eyes, you’re now in a barren basement type room lying on a mattress on the floor. Immediately you spot Tess. Then you notice a man with a large rifle standing by the door.

“What the fuck happened?!” You scream.

“Hey, relax.” Tess says eased. “It’s nothing personal.”

“Nothing personal?! What the fuck do you do to me?! Why am I here?!”

Before she can answer you, Joel waltzes into the room. The room shadows paint him a terrifying creature who stares at you hard.

“Look,” Joel’s voice is cold, unwavering steel. “I’m gonna be straight with ya. We ain’t doing shit to you. Just need your mom to make FEDRA give us what we want.”

Your eyes go wide.

You’re being held as a hostage.

Before anything else can be said, another man steps in.

“Sorry boss, but we’re getting word there’s chatter on the coms.” The man explains to Joel.

He nods then glances over to you from his shoulder.

“Y’don’t do anything fucking stupid and we might all make it out of this alright.” That’s all Joel says then exits.

The man with the gun nods to him almost as a sign of respect.

Even though so many thoughts buzz around in your head like angry wasps, it clicks fast.

It’s Joel.

Joel is the infamous underworld smuggling king.

(iii)

The rest of the day is a blur. You’re left alone and cry into your hands until it hurts. The man with the gun standing guard outside your door doesn’t seem to care. Tess at one point returns with cleaner clothes, even offers you a shower and a meal, but you stay silent.

Some of the smugglers pop their head into your room, curious about the new hostage.

“Aw, you’re too pretty to cry.” One of them grins.

“Yeah there’s someone else I could give ya to cry about.” Another snickers disgustingly, and you want to crawl into yourself.

Joel barks a hard loud yell.

“Any of you fuckers so much as even looks in there again or even dares touch her, you’ll have to fuckin’ deal with me, understand?!” Joel commands, a god among chaos.

It’s not entirely comforting, but it’s enough.

Not a soul walks by your room after that.

Later that night Joel comes with rations and more water.

“Y’need to eat something.” He suggests. You don’t even move to touch the food.

Joel sighs, placing his hands on his hips.

“I’m doing this to find my brother, simple as that. Need FEDRA to give us a good car or even a battery at best to get us on the road.” Joel explains sharply, methodically.

All of this for his brother. The love of a family member in exchange for the love of another. You understand, even can sympathize, but you hated this still, hated him.

With thorny malice, you glare hard at Joel staying silent.

He frowns harder, and it highlights his wrinkles. Joel doesn’t say anything, simply clenches his jaw and leaves the room.

In the room’s solitude, you try formulating a plan. If you just get a gun you can maybe make your way out of this place.

Whatever this place is, it’s the central base. It’s hard not to listen to all the commotion and talk done in the other room. The smuggling empire is terrifyingly impressive. From what you’ve caught there’s multiple routes and tunnels that operate for different means. Some smuggle in necessities like food or medicine, while others provide arms.

Joel orders and strategizes it all. Tess is just as in charge and orders commands as well.

“You should eat.” Suddenly the guard on the other side of your open door suggests.

You’re almost tempted to throw the rations out the door.

A sudden explosion cracks above and the ground rattles. The air stills, and everything shifts.

“Fireflies!” Someone screams.

This is your chance. In the rush of the commotion and the echo of gunshots, you hope to escape.

You’re left alone.

This is it. Adrenaline pumps through you fast as you frantically search for an exit, a gun, anything. But the chaos swirls fast. More yelling arrives underground, and gunshots fire off closer.

But your legs start buckling, and your eyes start getting foggy too. Fear comes fast. Did they maybe drug you?

No. You just realize…you haven’t eaten this entire day.

Now it’s getting hard to walk.

Stumbling, barely keeping focus, you lean against the wall. Your body feels like it’s going to crumble.

“Oh, look what we have here.” Someone coos. A shadow soon falls over you. “Fuck didn’t know the smugglers had someone this cute.”

This can’t be happening.

Your lips tremble while fighting back tears, can’t even focus on who’s around you.

“Maybe we can keep her as a nice treat.” Another voice laughs, and your stomach feels sick.

A gunshot rings into the hallway. A body collides so hard and fast on the floor it makes your vision focus. Crimson spills onto the concrete. When you snap your focus aware another firefly man screams in anger until Joel takes him down with ease.

Disrobed relief spills into you. Joel’s here.

In this fucked up moment you’re about to cry grateful because he’s here.

But your vision blurs more, and your body feels light.

Then your world again goes dark.

Sunlight this time wakes you up.

Panic causes you to bolt up fast, but the dizziness hits you. Hissing, you steady yourself.

“Don’t get up too fast.” Joel’s dull voice speaks from the abyss.

You’re in a small apartment now, or the decaying barebones of one. In one small room is the kitchen and a living room. You rest on the couch while Joel sits at the table.

“What happened?” You ask with a croak.

Joel nudges to the small dusty coffee table where water and rations sit waiting for you.

This time you don’t hesitate to snag them.

Joel explains all that happened. The fireflies attacked the tunnels for supplies, and it spilled into the base.

“Used the underground tunnels to make it outside the QZ. Then, came here to a safe house.” He finishes.

“Where’s Tess?” You ask.

“Stayed back. Need someone to communicate to me how the deal’s going.” You suddenly notice the radio sitting on the countertop.

“So it’s just you and me.” You mutter.

“Un-fuckin’ fortunately.” Joel replies with a hard scowl.

Your mind tries to settle now.

You’re in a home in the middle of fuck knows where. Your hope of maybe escaping is not as bright as it was in the underground compound. So you steadily resolve yourself to accept this situation. Your mother will come. She will find a way to make the deal and you’ll be back home.

When you finally glance out the window you discover you’re on the outskirts of the QZ.

Infected roam here.

“Shouldn’t we head back into the QZ?” You ask worried.

“And have you turnin’ my fuckin’ ass in? No way in hell.” Joel glares at you.

“Infected are out here.” You snap fierce.

“And you got me. Won’t need to worry ‘bout ‘em.” He says simply.

It isn’t that reassuring, but you think of how he’s proven himself already to be rather sturdy even for his age.

“So are we just gonna wait until we hear something?”

“Yeah.” Joel answers with a deadly deadpan that refuses to leave room up for any discussion.

The space stays in a tense thickness until the radio flickers to life scaring the shit out of you.

Tess over the radio gives an update. Still no word from FEDRA. Instead she goes into discussing work with Joel.

They talk in code, use numbers and different colors to describe things. But at one point they let the code slip. You piece it together easily. They work with FEDRA officers to get certain supplies. You knew FEDRA wasn’t squeaky clean, even argued about it with your mom. But this just solidifies the murkiness of it all.

None of them have a car or battery to give.

Joel ends up falling asleep in the chair at the tabled hands crossed over his chest. You now snoop around the place quietly. There’s an extra backpack for you as well as various contraband items still waiting to be delivered.

You silently steal one of the liquor bottles and place it stealthily in your bag.

You also unpack what’s in the bag.

The change of clothes Tess had first offered you, a few rations, a flashlight. No weapon though. You do spot flint, and that’s slightly reassuring.

The sun starts to dwindle. You need to rest. It’s obvious you’re not going anywhere for a while. So returning to the couch you close your eyes.

Then the howl of a clicker wakes you.

Instinctual primordial terror has your eyes snapping open wide in fear. Before you can move, you discover Joel beside you. Even in the dark you see a finger raised up to his lips.

Keep quiet.

You nod, sealing your lips tight.

The ominous clicking noise rattle outside the hall. You almost miss it with how loudly your heart hammers in your ears. The infected’s chatter sounds fainter as it wanders down the hallway.

You exhale through your nose, hopeful this means the infected is close to maybe leaving.

Until the radio flickers to life blaring a tune.

Horror collides into you fast. The clicker roars. Joel acts immediately raising his gun to shoot the radio silent. But it’s too late. The infected screeches, rushing down the hallway with violent steps until it rams into the door with full force. You hold back a scream.

Joel fires at the door, and a loud thud follows.

“Come on!” he snaps, scrambling to get up.

More would come. You slide the backpack on, and instantly follow Joel in a frantic rush.

Heart racing, you stay close to Joel while the two of you rush to escape out of the apartment complex. Screeches of more infected approach.

The night is dark, but Joel is surprisingly keen in maneuvering the area. He leads you into another ransacked building and holds his hand up, a silent sign to stop.

You’d be stopping here. You’re glad. All of your body feels weak. You haven’t seen a clicker up close in years. Now fear eats away at the adrenaline.

“We’ll stay here until daybreak.” Joel speaks barely above a whisper. “Get rest while ya can.”

You’re afraid to sleep now. Don’t even want to think about it.

Suddenly he says your name.

It’s the first time he’s ever said it.

He stares somberly, seriously at you. Joel must have seen whatever fear ran across your face. You fully take in the sight of him. Standing tall, his strong rifle in hand, he’s the image of unwavering determination.

“Sleep, I’ll be up.” He orders.

The distrust you hold for his man slowly is ebbing away. You know he’s simply keeping you alive for the bargain, but it’s enough for now. So you sit on the ground, try to just close your eyes and gather yourself together.

Sunlight again wakes you, and Joel continues standing watch.

He glances back to you, and with his stoic stome nature, he nods.

Time to move.

The journey through the debris and fallen memories of Boston is quiet, tense. Joel stays closer to you the entire way.

“Have another safe house just outside the edges of the city limit. We’ll be safe there.” He mutters low and you nod.

The smuggler king leads confidently. Even though you’re still petrified of infected, you take in the sights of the city. The intricate green vines, the lush landscape among the bones of civilization, it’s all a haunting sight, but you also think of how beautiful it is.

“Y’ever been outside the QZ?” Joel suddenly speaks low.

“Once,” you tell him truthfully. You had been a child then and you barely remember the journey.

“So you’ve been in Boston this entire time?” Joel asks now, sounding curious.

You have. It’s why your mom has such a high ranking within FEDRA.

“Your accent…where are you originally from?” You decide to ask questions now too, keeping the same low tone as Joel.

A part of you assumes he won’t answer or will just respond sarcastically.

“Texas.”

You’re surprised he answered.

“You're a long way from home then.”

He hums a noise that sounds like he agrees.

“Must have been a journey to get you all the way to Boston.” You note, now more curious about him.

Joel stays quiet for a moment, then replies with the lowest ‘yeah’ effectively ending the conversation.

Soon the buildings fade away. The forest creeps in denser as the suburbs approach.

At the edge of the neighborhoods, a home sits splintered off inching into the woods. It seems like the perfect secluded safe house base.

The place hasn’t been touched in a while. Leaves scatter across the title floor, and dust covers so much. You’re thankful this has more space than the small apartment. Joel immediately slings his backpack off then opens a door leading down to a basement. You follow him.

“Don’t fuckin’ follow me.” He snips, yet you stay behind him. He doesn’t stop you.

Instead Joel flickers on many camping lanterns and illuminates the basement. The stockpile here is barren, hardly any weapons or canned goods. Of course a radio sits on the table. Joel flickers to life, but no one answers when he sends his Morse code clicks. His face grows dark with worry.

“Please get me if you hear anything from my mom.” You finally say quietly.

“Yeah, will do.” Joel agrees somber.

It’s enough for now.

Two days pass. No sounds come from the radio. You and Joel walk around each other on egg shells and rarely speak. It’s suffocating. So you rummage around the house to find something to do, anything.

You find a deck of cards and it feels like a gift from above.

Quietly in the living room, you set up a lone game of solitaire on the coffee table. Or patience, as your mom loved to call it when she taught you how to play. Seems perfect to play now. You flip through the cards, placing them at the correct spots and columns.

“Solitaire?” Joel’s voice surprises you. But what shocks you even more is him moving to sit on the floor.

“You play?” You question.

“Not in a while, play other card games like poker or black jack.”

“I play blackjack.” You perk up, and Joel’s eyebrows rise slightly shocked.

You hand him the deck, cleaning up the rest of the cards and start a new game with him.

The game is tense at first, like you and him are still trying to navigate the thick tension. You peek at your cards and he glances at his.

He wins the first game, but now you’re determined.

Eventually you and him get sucked into playing. So many matches pass that when you win Joel pouts, throwing his cards down.

You burst out laughing. It feels like it’s been so long since you’ve laughed, and it’s freeing.

“You’re a sore loser.” You tease.

“I ain’t.” Joel rumbles back, scowling harder.

“Mhm, yeah sure. There’s a candyland box nearby I can get to prove you are.” You surprisingly joke, buoyant.

Joel shakes his head.

“I’ll show ya who’s a sore fuckin’ loser when I beat your ass at poker.”

“I don’t know how to play poker. Go Fish or nothing else.” You shrug.

Then, Joel snorts. It’s not a laugh, not even anything special, but it eases the strain among you and him even more. He starts shuffling the deck and hands out the cards to you.

With the most stern of voices, so seriously Joel, he asks if you have any sevens.

You laugh into your hand.

“I’m being fuckin’ serious!” He snaps.

You laugh even harder.

In this fucked up moment, in this murky situation, this brightens your soul.

A week passes.

Over the radio you hear Tess tell Joel flat out how heavy it’s gotten in the city.

“The fucking fireflies…FEDRA, everything, it’s gotten fucking insane… we might not get the car, or even the fucking battery Joel. We need to think of a plan b.”

Your stomach twists sick. Where was your mom? And what would happen if they decide you’re not worth the hassle anymore.

Shakily you head into the bathroom and sob into your hands trying to stay as quiet as you can.

Soon you’re a shell of yourself.

When you step back outside however, you’re resolved. Instead of the basement, Joel now waits in the kitchen, and his eyes widen seeing you.

“What’s wrong?” His voice picks up with a wind of worry.

“Joel.” You begin calmly and somber. “Be honest with me…”

You ask him the question that’s been haunting you.

What will become of you if FEDRA doesn’t hold up their bargain? If even your mom can’t follow through?

“Will…you get rid of me?” You speak soft, without even having to divulge more, but the festering rotting truth lies under your words.

The silence feels sharpened.

Joel quietly speaks first.

“No. Won’t do that to ya.” He mutters.

You don’t know if he’s lying or telling the truth.

You and Joel simply stare at each other. So much hangs tangled and barbed between you and him.

All you can do is simply nod. You swear his eyes soften for just a moment.

Another week passes. No signs or commotion from FEDRA. It’s beginning to feel like you’re in a room slowly filling with water, like you’re on borrowed time.

But you manage to pass the days with Joel through more card games. You try playing Pictionary with him, but his attempt at drawing a dog looks like a camel, and you laugh so hard at how badly he pouts.

It’s becoming amicable now, you and him.

But supplies are running low. Joel doesn’t sugar coat that harsh truth.

“There’s another stop we can go to from here, but I’m hoping we won’t need to.” He’s still waiting, hoping for FEDRA to answer.

Eventually the night settles in, and you’re surprised he joins you for another card game.

Right now you and him try another game of poker. You’ve come to learn you are not very good, which is also why you think Joel likes playing it knowing he wins.

“So how does a Texan far from home become the king of smugglers?” You try to ease the air by pushing more conversation with him.

“Just something that happened honestly,” Joel mutters, passing out the weathered cards.

“Got involved with my brother back when we started traveling outta Texas and just…never stopped.” He reveals.

“Your brother, he’s the one you’re looking for…” You remember.

“Yeah.” Joel agrees low.

“I hope you find him.” Gathering the cards dealt to you, you mean those words.

“Thanks…hope we can get ya back home.” A hint of sincerity leaks into Joel's voice and you appreciate that.

You’re about to deal your hand when rustling comes from outside. Glancing out the window, you try to find something among the dark shadows.

“What?” Joel asks fast and low.

“I don’t know… thought I heard something.” You mumble.

In that same breath, bullets fly through the window, shattering everything. The moment unfolds in a flurry of chaos.

“Raiders!” Joel shouts while you and him try to stay low. You crawl towards your bag.

The door gets kicked in and your heart races fast. Even as you and Joel scramble to maybe get down to the basement it's hard with the commotion rushing in.

Joel is swift with his gun, but the raiders keep coming.

Windows shatter further in the back of the house. They’re infesting. Time to leave. It’s a rapid rush to get outside. Before running into the woods, you stop to rummage in your bag finally remembering something important.

“The fuck are ya doing?!” Joel screams with a snarl.

You act fast. You rip a piece of your shirt edge, and grab the alcohol you stole along with the flint.

“Shit.” Joel breathes out realizing what you’re doing.

You’ve seen plenty of these, just never believed you’d ever make one.

Cloth in the liquid, Joel moves to help you light the flint.

Then when fire sparks catches onto the strip of clothing you stand up.

The adrenaline sets you ablaze. You throw the bottle with all your might. It manages to collide against the house’s porch. Soon the world is engulfed in a vibrant orange flame, a hellfire right before you.

Screams of raiders mix with the flames.

“Come on.” Joel urges and grabs your hand.

A rush of footsteps comes and it’s too late to react.

Something hard hits the side of your face. You cry in pain falling to the ground. The world spins on itself. Everything is disoriented. Your face throbs so bad, and you cough through the tears stinging your eyes. The sound of Joel firing off his gun again comes.

Then his hands steady you up.

“Y’okay darlin’?” He asks frantic and you nod, tired.

“Let’s go.” Joel grabs your hand again. This time don’t let it go.

Even arriving at the abandoned gas station deemed safe to stay, you don’t let his hand go. He doesn’t yell at you about it.

Instead Joel sits besides you, flush against your side.

Against the shadowed darkness of the old building, you hold his hand firm in his and he doesn’t let go either.

You wake up first this time and find your head slumped against Joel’s shoulder, resting against him now. His head also rests on top of yours.

This is new.

But then again, so was the term he used for you. You wonder if you just imagined it.

Unlike now, this is very real. You’ve never been this close to him, can smell the faintest traces of him, musky and dark. He snores. His hair tickles against your head, but you don’t want to move.

If anything you close your eyes again hoping for a few more minutes of peace. Joel eventually shifts, waking you both up. Nothing is said about the sleeping positions.

Then he turns to you, and his face falls.

Immediately Joel moves closer. Delicately one of his hands moves to your chin to examine your cheek.

“Does it hurt?” He asks gently and you shake your head.

Not as much. You know there’s probably an ugly bruise, but it could be worse. You’re grateful this is all you have.

“You should’ve seen the other guy.” You darkly joke.

Joel scoffs a small noise, maybe the echo of a laugh.

“So… Should I be worried about anything else you might’ve stolen?” His dry tone doesn’t sound upset.

You promise the bottle is all you took.

Joel hums, nodding.

“You continue to keep surprisin’ me.” His words are softer than he’s ever sounded

Now you realize, Joel is closer than ever before too. His face intensely scowled up now stares directly at you.

You drink in the sight of the king of the smugglers this close. The sun spots on his face, the age lines along his gorgeous features, it’s hard to deny how stunning he is.

After yesterday night it’s like you’re reminded raw and fierce how dangerous, but gorgeous of a man Joel is.

You think of the party you first met Joel. You remember thinking how you felt the remnants of safety, of protection that Joel showed then.

You should hate him. You wouldn’t be in these situations if it wasn’t for him. But when you ask yourself if you would rather be in the QZ, the truth is a distorted answer you might not be ready to face.

Without a word Joel whips around and moves to sling his backpack on better.

“Come on, let’s head out.” He announces.

You stay close to his side.

You expected another silent journey. However, the warmth of the day, the stretch of houses blurring more into the woods brings Joel out of his shell.

He talks about the Texas heat and how it used to be scorching. Interestingly points out different housing structures, and you learn he used to work as a contractor. Joel even asks about your job working at the school.

“It’s a job.” You say a bit standoffish.

“You don’t like it.” Joel sees right through you instantly.

“My mom likes it.” It’s safe, secure, stable and away from any harm and under the watch of FEDRA.

“What d’ya want to do then?” Joel asks surprisingly patient.

You pause momentarily, and the wind blows across your face.

It’s such a simple silly dream you hold in your heart…

Having your own house, enjoying peace, simply embracing living day to day without any worry about what to do or if your mom would approve.

“To simply be.” You answer. It’s enough for Joel, and you swear you see a faint grin tugging his lips.

The trail transforms into a serene sight, and you’re in awe of the beautiful landscape.

You should be scared that you’re walking away more and more from the QZ, even trusting Joel to follow him. But you’re not. The stretching trees untouched by the city, the edges of summer still peeking through the greenery, it's beautiful.

And getting hear Joel open up more, means more than you care to admit. He talks about this one mix up a couple of his guys made where they mistook baby milk formula powder for cocaine.

“Not Mister Scary Lord of the underworld getting upset over that.” You tease, and it almost feels like flirting.

Joel rolls his eyes. It adds a glowing playfulness to him, like seeing a small glimpse of the man he was before the world ended.

The further from the QZ you go, the deeper and deeper you’re drawn into this endless maze of a man that is Joel.

(iv)

You never believed a place like Bill and Frank’s existed.

Their own personal town is otherworldly. They, mainly Frank, welcome you with warm and glimmering hospitality. They’re both older, slightly around Joel’s age.

“So, what’s a lovely thing like you doing with Joel?” Frank asks jokingly.

“Oh, I’m just a hostage.” You sleepily grin. Frank’s face falls while Bill barks a laugh.

It’s easy to melt into this new world with these two and Joel. You never expected him to have friends like this, and it’s interesting uncovering more facets of him.

Bill barks for you not snoop, but Frank winks reassuringly to make yourself at home. The hot shower is an oasis, and the comfortable bed becomes a cloud.

Well rested, the next day you wander the town. You stay out until it’s dark. No infected, no raiders, no fireflies or no worries… just simply you and the beautiful night sky above.

“Still not payin’ attention to where you’re goin’.” Joel’s voice flutters in.

Along the side of the street he looks dreamy under the soft dark night.

“Can’t help it,” you truthfully say, glancing back up. The stars are too lovely not to admire.

You end up wandering closer to Joel or maybe he walks towards you. It’s too hard to tell.

“You can never see the stars this bright even at the QZ.” You return to admire the stars even with Joel besides you.

If your mom just knew how far you were.

Joel snorts, and you realize you spoke those words aloud. Even though you’re a bit embarrassed you simply shrug.

“It’s true.” You agree.

“Seems like she’s kinda…” Joel trails off.

“Controlling?” You finish, and he nods.

You understand why. She’s seen horrors, lost so much. But you’re an adult, a fully grown one and you’ve seen a fair share of hardships too. You just want to be understanding both to her, and to yourself.

You even explain this to Joel.

“You’re good, maybe too kind.” Joel mutters and you now intrigued turn to him. His eyes twinkle in the dark night more than they ever have. “Don’t seem to see the bad in people.”

Maybe you do. Maybe you understand that people in this world contain fuzzy and hard to decipher multitudes now.

Joel snorts when you tell him that.

“Y’know you’ve been traveling with a one of FEDRA’s top bad guys this whole entire time right?”

You know. Joel even calls himself a thief. But he doesn’t seem as evil as you believed him to be.

Glancing at him, the way the darkness should bring out his shadows. It instead illuminates him like a faint star. You think someone this man can’t be fully evil. Or maybe you’re not as good, blooming and unfolding in the mud to reveal your true nature.

You and Joel simply walk back to Bill and Frank’s in silence.

The radio also stays silent another week.

You’re worried about overstaying your welcome, especially with how hard Bill glares at you like you’re a pest. Frank however, eagerly includes you in so many of his projects and errands.

“Not as young as I used to be.” He teases while tending to one of the gardens, and you readily help as much as you can.

You stare in awe at all the beautiful lush vegetables and plants. There’s even a couple of fruit trees.

“Joel always asks for fruit when he comes for trades.” Frank chuckles.

You never would have expected Bill and Frank to be a part of Joel’s team.

“I know, we don’t seem like the type, or maybe I don’t seem like the type to be helping smugglers.” Frank comments teasing, as if he read your mind.

You quickly stammer out that you don’t mind.

“This world, it’s not as black and white as we think it is. Surviving an apocalypse really does paint everything in a murky gray. Sometimes, it’s okay to just accept that.” Frank explains.

You’re slowly starting to agree more and more with that.

“I know…there’s…a delicate situation going on between you and Joel.” Frank speaks cautiously.

“But I want you to know…that if this is serious, and you don’t feel comfortable with Joel or truly want to go return home, there’s ways we could figure it out.” His tone is serious, truthful and sincere.

His words warm you.

But you swallow hard. In the watch of the peaceful yard you reveal a shadowed truth that’s been building in you.

You don’t know if you want to go back. You know you will have to if FEDRA and your mom honor the trade. But you’re dreading returning to your life under the eyes of the decaying QZ streets, FEDRA, your mother…

And even if you do return there, you can’t imagine going without Joel.

“I just want to make sure he’s safe.” You add quietly.

“You probably think I sound awful or out of my mind.” Then you laugh hollow.

Frank doesn’t reply immediately. You wait for him to judge you.

“I don’t think that at all.” His hand gently pats yours. “I think you’re actually really brave being so honest.”

That brings a thickness in your throat. Frank grins warmly at you, squeezes your hand comfortingly. You soak up his kindness like a flower bud in the sunlight.

However, another day passes with no noise among the picturesque world.

At breakfast you try holding back your laughter while Bill and Frankie aruge over the Wizard of Oz.

Joel, who surprisingly slept in late, emerges to take a seat at the table.

Him and Bill immediately jump into discussion about smuggling routes and new supplies. Frank slowly slips out to the kitchen.

“What day is it?” Joel asks.

Bill simply tells it to Joel, but it’s like a switch is flipped on.

He shoots up out of his chair, doesn’t even care that it topples over or that he slams into the table knocking everything. Bill yells at him fiercely. But Joel storms out of the room leaving everyone in his aftermath.

“What happened?” Frank asks, emerging back into the dining room.

“Joel, being fucking Joel.” Bill sneers.

Frank ignores his husband and turns to you. Explaining what happened, his lovely face frowns instant.

“Oh…oh I forgot about today.” He mutters.

You ask what today means. Frank slides closer to you with his eyes low.

“If I remember right…Today’s Sarah’s birthday.” He answers.

Confusion bubbles up, and you ask who Sarah is.

Frank’s face contorts in shock.

“Sarah…she’s Joel’s daughter that passed away.”

Those words take your breath away and you feel your world tilt on its axis.

Joel was a dad. Joel had a daughter.

You never would have expected. Frank must see the look in your eyes now as he places a hand on your shoulder.

“He doesn’t talk about her much. It’s not your fault you didn’t know.”

You’re left haunted by it all though.

Eventually you get the confidence and bravery enough to find Joel.

Walking around the vacant neighbor, you eventually spot him sitting on the porch step of one of the homes.

“Fuck you doin’ here?” He snaps, but there’s no malice in his voice, only a hollowness.

Standing besides him, you inhale deep.

“My big sister was infected on outbreak day.” You begin.

It happened after school when your mom was talking with your neighbor outside your home. You were still so little, barely remember pieces of it.

But the memories you have are sharp.

You’re in the kitchen, laughing at something your sister says. Suddenly she starts twitching. Then your world ended. You still hear her snarls sometimes, still taste the terror when she tried biting you and how you prayed it was just a game, until the screams of your mom came. It’s simply been you and her ever since.

Joel’s face finally turns to you and his eyes are wide, glossy obsidian gems and so open, so unlike Joel. Yet it’s like you’re seeing a true layer of him.

“I’m so sorry about your daughter Joel. That pain of loss never really leaves and I get it.” You carry your big sister’s ghost with you now.

Joel doesn’t say anything, instead clenches his jaw and blinks away the shimmering gloss reflecting in his eyes.

“It ain’t the same.” He suddenly snaps back. “You never felt the pain of losin’ a child.”

You feel insulted.

“Loss is still a loss Joel. Don’t you dare say my hurt is less than yours. What would your daughter say?” You snap back.

You know that’s not a kind thing to say. It galvanizes Joel. He bolts up and becomes a terrifying looming force that pierces you where you stand.

His voice silence is deadly, slices through you.

There’s so much you want to say to hurt him, but what good will it do. You simply blink away tears and walk away, leaving Joel to his ache as you try to quell yours.

Trying to settle your emotions, you end up walking around the ghost town and spot various glorious wildflowers, blooms so vibrantly colorful. You grab as many as you can.

Back at the house, Frank brightens immediately seeing the flowers in your hands.

“I got just the vase for them!”

Frank asks if you picked these for yourself and you shake your head.

“For those who have passed, and for Sarah.” Your answer.

Frank doesn’t say anything but instead nods, a silent understanding.

You head back to the guest room to try taking a nap. You accidentally left the door open partially, and soon enough Joel’s arrival lumbers into the grand home.

“Bill get those for you?” He notices the flowers.

Frank snorts. “You know Bill wouldn’t.”

He instead clarifies you did.

“For today…for Sarah.” Frank then adds.

Joel is quiet. You close your eyes and now drift into the flickering world between falling asleep and being aware.

You swear you faintly hear the door creak open more, catch the faint smell of cedar, and feel delicate but callous fingers run across your face.

But when you open your eyes, no one is in the room.

It’s like nothing happened between you or Joel the next morning. He even helps you and Frank outside harvesting some of the ripe new fruit.

“Can't handle Bill’s grumpy ass anymore.” Joel explains.

“Two grumpies together might just be too much.” You tease. Joel glares dully at you. Frank snickers amused.

You perk up bright seeing the lovely apples on the tree.

“Go ahead! Try one!” Frank eagerly urges and you do.

You haven’t had fresh apples in years. Your eyes close in bliss tasting sweet heaven and you munch away.

Suddenly a thick thumb runs against your cheek and your eyes snap open.

“Sorry. Got some on your cheek.” Joel clarifies drawing his hand away.

He suddenly draws it into his mouth to have a taste. You feel a bit dizzy but in a way that makes your stomach flip.

Joel’s eyes go wide, momentarily realizing what he did. Without another word, he bolts.

You and Frank are left staring at each other stunned.

The rest of the day Joel stays glued to the radio in Bill’s workshop.

Later that night your fingers crawl silently under the sheets, under your underwear, and you imagine what Joel would feel like. This man that’s taken you away from your home - you should feel guilty and ashamed, even horrified at this. But instead you only find an ache for more for his fingers to replace yours.

But even among the decadent desires you indulge in more and more…

Another week passes.

You and Joel share a somberness, slowly facing the harsh truth.

You may not be returning home.

“I want us to have a nice dinner tonight!” Frank must sense it too because he declares a bright order.

“So that means new outfits and everyone taking a good shower!” Frank insists proudly showing you to the clothing boutique the town has.

You end up grabbing the softest looking sundress. It’s delicate, fits comfortably on you and even makes you feel brand new.

Especially after taking another warm shower with the homemade lavender soap Frank gave you as another gift. Bill seems to be warming up to you. He even makes a dull joke about you taking a shorter shower than Joel.

When Joel does emerge from the shower, something shifts in you. His wet slicked back hair highlights all his silver streaks. In the new button up shirt Frank shoved at him and ordered him to wear, he’s gorgeous.

The terrifying ruler of a smuggling empire, now just a man who seems almost embarrassed, fidgets because you stare at him so directly.

Dinner is thankfully wonderful.

At some point you realize the role of hostage, of someone kidnapped, doesn’t feel so barbed. You now roam freely without any fear. Laugh warmly at the stories Frank tells that makes Bill scoff and Joel roll his eyes.

You insist on cleaning up to let Bill and Frank enjoy the nice evening to themselves.

In the kitchen you gather the plates until the door creaks open behind.

“Needed to get away from Bill’s god damn glarin’ st me being the third wheel.” Joel huffs.

Smirking, you find Joel effortlessly begins putting away dishes, helping.

It’s peaceful. In another life you wonder if this could have been a regular evening, in a house you owned…with someone you cared for.

Someone who you hate looks eerily like Joel.

You shift to go grab something just as he moves, and the two of you gently collide. It’s nothing extreme, but Joel’s hand moves to steady you against your lower back.

“Sorry.” He mutters, and your eyes flicker to him. He’s close again. So close you can almost smell the rosemary and pine soap among a scent so deeply Joel. He doesn't move yet. Neither do you.

That’s when you catch it, Joel’s deep rust eyes glance away from your gaze and towards your lips.

You wonder if maybe you’re seeing things, or have something on your face. But his hand against your back feels warm, steady, like you never want it to leave. His face ever so slightly begins to pull closer towards you.

You don’t want this to stop.

But Bills footsteps clamor to the kitchen. It electrifies both you and Joel causing him to scurry out of the kitchen.

That night you’re unable to sleep.

Frank always offered his collection of books for you to browse through. You decide to glance around and hope something sparks your interest.

That’s when a muffled groan floats out into the hallway.

Curiosity and a hint of worry has you walking back towards the rooms.

A choked out sigh comes from Joel’s room and the world melts away.

You need to go back to your room, even head back to the living room.

But you instead lean closer and find the door is slightly cracked like Joel thought he closed it but didn’t.

You faintly hear it, the sound of him jerking off. His soft sighs, his hand rubbing out his cock, it makes your mouth dry and water at the same time.

You’re no better than a creepy pervert, but you can’t help it.

Joel’s hand speeds up faster and now your wet core begs for attention already.

Then his climax hits with a deep loud groan, and it’s delicious.

You shift trying to quell the heat crawling all over your body.

But Joel sighs.

And he says your name.

It’s clear, steals your breath.

Maybe it’s been this recent journey that’s reminded you how short this life is… but whatever galvanized energy it is, it surges through you to move and push into Joel’s room.

Oh he’s a sight.

Your mouth waters seeing his cock, thick, beautiful and messy before it’s covered by the blanket.

Joel scrambles up petrified. “What the fuck y’doing here?!”

“You said my name,” you whisper slowly creeping towards him while shutting the door behind you.

“You’re hearin’ shit.” He barks low, angry and harsh.

You swallow hard.

“I think about you too… whenever I touch myself.” You admit barely above a whisper.

Joel’s eyebrows fly up to his hairline, but immediately he coughs as if he got punched.

“Go back to your room.” He urges, but it’s not persistent. You shake your head no, and now arrive against the side of his bed.

“We… you…this shouldn’t be happenin’.” He urges.

“You say you’re a thief, that you’re the bad guy here,” you mutter posessed. “Maybe I am too.”

“Darlin’” Joel breathes out that sacred term, the one you’ve prayed to hear again.

Confidence surges through you more toxic than any other poison.

“Maybe I wanna take for once,” you whisper, moving onto the bed. Your eyes glance to the wet white sticky mess against Joel’s stomach and his hand that he didn’t cover.

Your mouth aches to taste him.

So flickering your gaze to Joel, it’s a cautious moment and what you’re about to do can fall apart in a minute. But your hand moves delicately, cautious. Your eyes stay on Joel, waiting for him to tell you no or react.

But he doesn’t.

You grab his cum covered hand still keeping your eyes on him. Until you glance down at his hand, his calloused beautiful large hand.

He still hasn’t pulled away or made a noise to stop you.

Tentatively you lick up his fingers, tasting his release.

“Fuck!” Joel barks out a harsh hiss.

You’re worried he’s going to yank his hand away, but he doesn’t. He instead sits up more like he’s been electrocuted.

It’s enough to let you indulge now.

So you draw his fingers into your mouth.

They’re so large. The salty taste of his cum and the taste of his skin on your tongue makes your eyes close as you clean his fingers.

“Fuckin’ shit, baby.” You want to hear him say those words over and over, want to cherish how wrecked his voice breaks.

Now, very slowly, Joel’s fingers move in your mouth and you moan. He traces your teeth, drags the meat of his fingers across your tongue and plunges deeper into your mouth.

Your eyes roll back, and on instinct you start sucking.

“Yeah darlin’ yeah.” Joe whispers hoarsely, and you want to get drunk on him.

Steady, his fingers plunge in and out, fucking your mouth as you become putty in his hold. His other hand now runs up your thigh, under the edge of your dress.

“Want you so bad Joel.” Even with his fingers in your mouth you whimper out those words maybe mainly to yourself, maybe thinking this is just a dream.

But the way Joel surges up, yanks his hand out of your mouth to clutch your face, and he kisses you like a parched man…

This feels too good to be a dream.

You melt into it, into Joel, greedily stealing all he gives you. Just as you welcome him to steal all he wants from you, and you readily give him everything. No worries about anything else, it’s simply you and him.

When Joel slides into you, deep and wide, when his breath tickles the heat of your skin, you taste the essence of him all around - the world feels reborn.

Joel however, is slightly more reluctant.

“M’too old for you.” He argues after the second night you crawl into his room.

“You think I care?” I simply say running your fingers against his warm chest.

“You should.”

Well you don’t and you tell him that.

Then the dark doubt creeps in.

Because there are other things you should care about.

“Are you doing this…”

Just to be cruel, to maybe even control you.

Joel sits up holding your hand against his chest. Your eyes met his. There’s steeled sincerity in his eyes as he shakes his head.

“No… hate that I wanted you from the start, before all this.” At the party. That feels like ages ago.

You can’t help but ask him why, why you.

He sighs, and his thumb strokes your hand.

“Saw you when ya first walked in. You laughed at something your friend said. It was so loud, so fuckin’ genuine.”

You’re about to apologize, embarrassed, at how loud you laugh until Joel continues.

“Knew you were something fierce, something beautiful. I was gone the minute you smashed that god damn drink in that guy's face.”

He doesn’t have to say anything else. So much clouds the room and it feels thick, but it’s like the thickness of a misty morning fog you want to get lost in. You kiss him tenderly, as if you have all the time in the world.

After this a new shift comes between you and Joel. His hands always seem to be on you, gently touching your arm or grazing past you closer. After your nights with him, hickies paint your thighs and you admire them in the morning.

In the dark, Joel tells you more about Tommy, about the plan he has for finding his brother. Even sometimes he reveals bits and pieces about Sarah.

You soak in every moment you can with him. Joel even stays a full day away from the radio helping Bill renovating one of the sheds. It’s a gift watching Joel work with his hands and tools, like watching the shadow of a past still existing in him.

Your heart becomes a treasure chest holding all these moments.

But something darker still rots in you.

FEDRA still remains silent.

(v)

Summer winds down. Cooler air settles in the town, and you happily enjoy sitting on the porch more and more.

You’d been eyeing the pomegranate for a few days. Now after Frank happily told you to enjoy, you excitedly and greedily cut into it. Joel even showed you how to earlier.

Currently you sit on the porch enjoying the soft breeze. Frank sits besides you watching Bill work on a project. You laugh at how affectionate the two are even while bickering.

Scooping out a couple of the pomegranate seeds, their beautiful ruby color stains your finger. They taste of a sweetness you never want to leave. Boots approach from behind.

“Joel! Come, sit. Enjoy the nice early autumn weather.” Frank calls and you turn to grin at him.

“FEDRA finally got in contact.” Joel’s words pop the air.

Everything stills.

When you turn towards Joel, the somber stare on his face already reveals the answer.

FEDRA denied the exchange.

The rest of the pomegranate sits uneaten on the porch.

You sit in Joel’s room quietly for what feels like years. The tears don’t even come anymore.

“She can stay here! She’d be a welcomed addition” Frank urges from the living room. “We’ve appreciated all the extra help around here.”

“No. Take her back.” Bill interjects flat.

Frank shushes his husband.

The conversation becomes low, muffled, and you’re too tired to even try and listen. You instead curl into Joel’s pillow, and let sleep take you.

A callous hand gently stroking your cheeks wakes you. The low early evening light bathes Joel glorious, and you faintly smell wine Joel must have had.

“You gonna get rid of me now?” You mumble hollow.

Joel shakes his head no.

“Too late for that.” He says with the faintest hint of a crooked grin. “Told ya, I’m head smuggler for a fuckin’ reason, like to keep what’s mine close.”

You place your hand over his and squeeze it tight. But the tears manage to return.

“What’s gonna happen now?” While you ask, your voice breaks.

Joel exhales.

“Don’t know.” He says truthfully.

You’re grateful he’s being honest. Joel’s dark autumn eyes glance away.

“I know we’ll manage, find a car, get Tommy.” He nods to himself.

“But…” he adds with his voice trailing off.

“Don’t wanna think about you leaving,” Joel admits with the lowest rumble.

“Can’t fuckin’ handle it… thinkin’ about not knowin’ how you’re doing, not seeing you…” he shakes his head.

“It’s fuck up. I know it’s god damn fucked up... If you want me to take you back to the QZ, I’ll do it. If you wanna just stay here, I’d let ya.” Joel’s voice sounds strained, almost debris filled with so many emotions begging to get out.

You slide your hands around him, and he draws you closer. The world might be crumbling again all around you, but he feels like a steady rock amongst it all.

“I don’t wanna leave, don’t wanna leave you.” You whimper out the truth.

Joel holds you tighter into his strong warm embrace.

That night you fuck Joel like it’s the last time you’ll ever see him, and a grim darkness seeping in your mind whispers it might be.

You want every piece of him. So when you open your mouth wide, without any question, Joel runs his thumb across your bottom lip and spits into your mouth. You greedily swallow.

What surprises you is when you’re seated in Joel’s lap, slowly grinding up and down on his thick cock, he weakly opens his mouth as well.

Tenderly stroking his cheek, you gently lean down and let the spit drip from your mouth into his. You feel drunk watching Joel’s eyes roll back as he swallows.

Instead of feral roughness, or a devouring passion, it’s tender, makes your heart swell. Joel’s hands map you out like you’re a cherished rare gem.

In his arms, in the quiet stillness of the room, your heart begs for weeds to start growing around you.

(vi)

From a glance out the window, the pumpkins seem to be flourishing beautifully. They’re your first big vegetables you’re growing, with Bill’s supervision of course. But you’re proud of the progress nonetheless.

You’re finishing cleaning the last bit of dishes from breakfast when a sturdy arm slides around you from behind.

For someone so grumpy, Joel is surprisingly and secretly a cuddly creature. His wonderful nose burrows into the side of your face.

“Wanna work on the kitchen today,” he mutters.

The old house across the street from Bill and Frank’s has become the new project. While you still stay with Bill and Frank, your hope is to eventually make that empty house a home.

The autumn air invigorates you as you go to visit Frank in his sunroom.

“Will you be okay here by yourself?” You ask him gently.

Frank snorts. “You and Bill both, such worrywarts.”

Frank’s been moving slower, coughing more. It tugs at your heart. Over the radio you now even ask Tess if there’s other medication options for him to try.

You’ve grown to care about him, even grouchy Bill and Tess who even seems to warm up to you now.

It’s your own carved out universe.

Frank good naturedly pats your hand, reassuring you he’ll be fine. With a squeeze to his shoulder and a warm goodbye, you head across the street.

Of course Joel takes charge, and it’s hard not to jump his bones seeing how effortlessly he takes to fixing up this house.

The night you decided to stay here, Joel slid you a paper and pen.

“Draw me your dream house.” He told you gruffy.

He kept that very poor drawing. It’s what guides the renovations. The house is smaller than Bill and Frank’s but to you, it’s a perfect size.

“You know I can do it myself, make Bill work too.” Joel had told you when you first showed up to help.

“I know, but I wanna help. Wanna know my elbow grease went into everything too.” You told Joel with a grin.

He didn’t shoo you away after that. Now you get to help around when you can. The sanded cabinets and freshly painted walls, all fruits of your labor and you’re excited, proud, seeing the house come together. It’s breathing life into his dusty space, and you cherish it.

Eventually you head back to Bill and Frank’s.

Frank calls to you. “The radio came on.”

With Joel throwing himself into fixing up the house, interestingly enough you’ve become his stand in. It’s how you and Tess slowly began bonding. You’ve told her FEDRA routes and patrol changes and she’s in turn gossiped about what’s been happening in Boston.

You miss it often, but the peace of walking to visit your pumpkins, to helping Frank at breakfast, of having Joel in your bed…it’s like a new breath in your lungs.

“Hey.” You greet Tess.

She says your name, somber and you still.

“Your mom…she finally got in contact with us.”

You inhale shakily. A part of you had wondered if your mom would do something like this.

Finally managing to get a hold of a battery, your mom is offering to trade it for you.

A wave of fear does grip you. You don’t want to leave, don’t want to go back. But you also miss her dearly.

When Joel returns, beautifully coated in sweat and saw dust, he’s like a construction god. But seeing your face, he instantly understands something’s up.

In the seclusion of your room, you tell Joel you’ll return to Boston, and his eyes become moons.

“You don’t have to go back.” Joel whispers to you later that night. “Can say we want more.”

You shake your head.

Your mom has been through enough, and Joel needs this.

“You need to find Tommy.”

His hand curls against your face holding your cheek so precious. “We’ll find another battery, or hell I’ll take one of Bill’s. Don’t want ya feeling like you’re forced to go back.”

This has all been out of your control and now, you have a say.

You’ll return with Joel, but you won’t be fully returning to your life in Boston either. You’ll exist between these two worlds now, visiting your mom and primarily staying with Joel.

Your mom won’t be happy about this, you can almost hear her fury already. But this is what you want. It’s the journey your path will take.

“Y’okay with this?” Joel suddenly asks before leaving the gate to the town. His eyes search yours. “You don’t have to do this, especially for me.”

You understand what he means, but this is for you.

Gently you draw Joel towards you and kiss him soft.

With the smuggler king, you walk firmly into the sunlight. The early autumn breeze gently guides you forward.

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Wild Flowers (18+)

Alastor x reader Rated: Adult, 18+ Content warnings: Sex pollen trope and related questionable consent due to intoxication, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, knotting, praise, dancing that shouldn't be that sexy, biting, a touch of blood drinking, female masterbation, some possessiveness, Alastor being a bit of an ass

Audio version brought to you by @nyx-umbrakinesis​,  Pt1, Pt2, Pt3, Pt4, Pt5, Pt6.

Summary: You had always loved flowers, so when you found a patch of pretty purple wildflowers growing in the small forest behind the hotel, you didn't think twice about picking a small handful to bring back to your room. While they smelled lovely, you were wholly unprepared for the side effects of exposure or the repercussions of offering the terrifyingly handsome Radio Demon a smell on your way to your room.

With your body burning from the inside out with an overwhelming need and a displeased Radio Demon pushing his way into your room, you have no idea what you're in for.

All you wanted was to pick some flowers but you got so much more.

~~~~~<3

You loved flowers. In life, you would gleefully pick wildflowers any chance you could get. It disappointed you endlessly to find they were far and few between in hell. The natural environment was a wasteland dotted with twisted trees with toxic sap and sharp grass. 

Florists imported flowers from the other rings where things grew better, less touched by the toxic byproducts of human souls indulging in the worst of the worst. Things in Pride ring were never what they seemed and what did grow often caused rashes or fought back. Everything was out to get you. Nothing could be trusted. 

That was a lesson you had to learn repeatedly over the years since your death and yet, you still found yourself being over eager. Learning from your mistakes wasn’t something you were good at.

You didn’t think twice when walking through a trail in the wasteland behind the hotel, being mindful to an extent of the sharp grass and trees. The trees were thicker here, a small patch of forest that you were eager to explore. With everyone at the hotel away, the building technically closed while the residents tended to assorted meetings and appointments, you had nothing else to do. 

In it you found something you hadn’t expected to find at all, a patch of pretty purple flowers. Their petals were heavy with pollen as you drew your face close, taking a deep breath, letting the floral scent wash over you. 

Finding them pleasing both to the nose and the eye, you picked a few while humming an old tune Alastor had been playing earlier that morning. It wasn’t exactly your taste but the old jazz had a way of lingering in your mind, the same way the man who favored it did. 

With a small bunch of purple blooms clutched in your hand, you made your way back to the hotel. The day was getting warm, making sweat begin to dampen the back of your neck, under your hair. It would feel nice to return to the air conditioning of the hotel. 

You hadn’t expected to find anyone in the hotel but as you made your way down the hall, Alastor was leaving his room. He glanced at you, eyebrow raised as he cut the tune he had been humming along to off. 

“What have you got there?” He asked, ever present smile wide on his face. “Been to the florist or did a suitor come to share his affections with you? What would we do without your delightful presence if someone were to spirit you away?”

“No,” You smiled up at him and reminded yourself for the millionth time that the easy flirtation was simply a product of the time he had been raised in. He intended nothing by it. “I found them growing, they smell lovely so I thought I’d pick some for my room. Would you like to smell?” 

He leaned in, taking a polite sniff as you held the flowers up to him, “Delightful.” 

You excused yourself, allowing him to carry on with his day as you made your way to your room. A glance over your should as you made your way down the hall showed him standing tall and still, watching you from down the hall. 

Finally, he gave a nod of his head and turned to go about his business as you reached your door, flowers clutched in hand. 

It was warm in your room. The whole of the hotel had felt warm, now that you thought about it. Perhaps that was what business Alastor had been off to handle, seeing to getting the cooling system working. It wouldn’t have been the first time it broke since you’d moved in and it likely wouldn’t be the last. 

You slipped your shirt over your head, leaving you in the clingy tank top that functioned as your undershirt, without thinking much of it. It wasn’t uncommon for you to shred the outer layer of your outfit when in the private space of your own room after all and it was so warm.

As you filled one of the glasses you kept in your room with water and set the flowers inside. Stepping back, you admired their color and delicate petals. You wished you had picked more, the glass looked half empty. Perhaps later, after this heat passes you’d go out and pick more. 

It seemed like it just got hotter in your room as the day went on. Before long, you changed out your pants for a pair of short athletic shorts. Sweat dotted your skin as you fanned yourself with a notebook, feeling like you would burn up. You were restless, moving about your room as you tried to relax. All you accomplished however was working yourself up more. 

You wanted to find Alastor, demand he find a way to fix the cooling. You wanted to make your way downstairs to the walk-in freezer and just sit in it, letting the frozen air bite at your overheated skin. 

When fanning yourself no longer worked, you simply spread out on the bed as you took panting breaths. Could you get heatstroke in hell? Raising a hand in front of your eyes, you admired the way the back of it was flushed with heat before letting you hand turn, flopping down against your abdomen. 

Your tank top had rode up, gathering around the thinnest point of your unnatural waist. The skin was hot under your hand and you found yourself rubbing your stomach, trying to soothe the hot skin. 

The feeling set sparks over your skin, leaving you gasping. It was so hot in the room but every caress of your hand cooled the skin for a short moment. In a few moments, you were running your hands down your chest and abdomen, trying to caress away the fire under your skin as you panted. 

Something wasn’t right. The hotel wasn’t hot, you realized, the heat was within you. The heatwave was coming from some internal fire and you needed to put it out before it consumed you.

Closing your eyes, you saw red eyes looking at you as your fingers brushed against the hem of your shorts. Thighs rubbed together as you felt the fire settle in your core. Every time you blinked, you saw red eyes. His red eyes dominated your thoughts. 

When your fingers found your slit, it was soaked already. It was like your body was trying to drown the fire within it with its own fluids. It wasn’t enough though, the fire still burned. It burned hotter with every teasing pass of your fingers.

Your fingertip brushed your clit, sending electric sparks through you. The light, teasing brushes of your fingertips felt far better than they had in the past. It left you gasping. Somehow it was too much and not nearly enough at the same time. 

With how wet you were, your fingers slipped between your folds without any intention to do so. It was still early in the day, far too early to be indulging in your body. The others could be home any time now, they could come back and hear you. 

Again and again you told yourself to stop as you fingers circled your clit. Something was wrong, why couldn’t you stop?

Squeezing your eyes closed, you tried to think of anything to break the unbearable spell of desire that was washing over you. It didn’t do any good. All that closing your eyes did was bring forth an image of Alastor, watching you walk down the hall. 

He was such a handsome man. Tall and lean. Powerful and frightening. He was everything you were attracted to. You knew how dangerous your affection for the man was, always trying to keep him out of mind. 

As your middle finger slipped into your weeping hole, he was all you could think about. Caressing your clit with your palm, you worked your finger in and out, trying to put out the fire in your blood. 

Desperate for more, you pushed a second finger inside, moaning as your body accommodated the intrusion easily. It wasn’t enough and you quickly added a third.

That was better. You were gasping now, working yourself closer to your climax in hopes that it would put out the fire. 

“Alastor,” his name fell from your lips in a soft whisper as you tried desperately to push yourself over the edge.

You flinched, ripping your fingers from your core as a soft ‘tap tap tap’ sounded at your door. Icy dread washed over you in what should have been a welcome relief. Quickly cooling strands of slick fell on your thigh as you quickly wiped your fingers on your bed as you rushed to your feet. 

“I know you’re in there, my dear.” Alastor called through the door.

Rushing to the door, you tried to straighten your clothes. There wasn’t much you could do for the sheen of sweat on your skin or the flush to your face. One deep breath later, you opened the door.

Alastor’s long fingers wrapped around the door as he leaned into the opening, “May I speak to you?” He asked, “In private?” 

It wasn’t really a question. He was shoving the door open and knocking you to the side in his eagerness to enter your room before giving you a proper chance to answer. It was a space you had never once invited him into. The thought had never crossed your mind nor had the occasion to make the offer.

“Can I-” Alastor’s large hand reached out behind him, striking the door and slamming it shut harshly, the sound seeming to echo through the space as it cut your words off for a moment, “help you?”

“Perhaps you can!” Alastor’s smile was strained and pulled tight. “As upon doing some research, it appears you’re the cause of this minor trouble.”

“What are you talking about?” You followed him as he stormed into the room, “I’m kind of-”

“In the middle of something?” Alastor rounds on you, grabbing your hand, still damp in places with your slick, you realize to your horror. 

“I- No, It’s not…” 

Your words died in your throat as he pulled your hand up toward his face by the wrist. He took a long breath in, taking in the scent of you as your face burned with shame and your body burned with a wholly different fire. 

Shap yellow grin split as his pale pink tongue slipped free from the fanged prison. It was too long, too pointed and you flinched back as it made contact with the portion of your palm that had just a few short minutes ago been pressed against your clit. 

It got worse, or perhaps better, as he wrapped his tongue around your middle finger, searching out every damp place where slick still lingered between your fingers.

“Delicious,” Alastor hummed, eyes slipping closed for a moment, cutting off the suffocating eye contact he had been maintaining and allowing your heart to once again start to beat in your chest. “Where are those damned flowers?” 

“What?” As he slipped your fingers into his mouth, sucking the remnants of your juices from them after he spoke, you struggled to process the question at all. 

“The flowers,” He spoke against your palm after letting the digits free with a lewd twist of his tongue. “All I can smell is them and *you*. Where are they?” 

Alastor’s red eyes flitted about the room, giving you a moment to really look at him. His face was flushed, something you had never seen before. His hair was mussed, with strands tangled on his antlers, seemingly caught from the action of running a hand through his hair. The antlers on his head were usually small with two prongs, easy to miss but now they stood taller by an inch or so, branching out more. 

The longer his hand stayed wrapped around your wrist, the more you became aware of the contact. The drying saliva on your hand and fingers was no longer cooling. It felt like static danced over your skin where his claws wrapped around your wrist. It felt better the longer his touch lingered. 

Alastor’s attention was on the flowers sitting prettily on your desk, blooms open wide and pollen dusting the petals. The snap of his fingers was far too loud in your room, amplified by the power the man contained. 

Dark green flames sparked, shattering the glass and sending water spilling over your dresser. Delightful purple wild flowers curled, crisping before charring and turning to dust. Only broken glass and black ash was left, the water evaporated away with the heat of the fire, to show what had happened. 

“Alastor?” You intended to sound outraged. You intended to be angry. You intended to yell at him. 

Instead his name was breathy, falling from your lips as arousal washed over you. The display of power had your core tightening and need sparking the dim flame in your blood to life, bringing it to the forefront of your attention. 

“You sound delightfully needy,” Alastor turned, bright eyes alight with something you couldn’t identify. “Do you know why that is?” 

Alastor pulled you to him by the wrist still clutched in his crushing grip. His other hand came to rest on your hip. Without asking, he pulled you into a clumsy dance, moving your body with his and keeping his grip firm enough to ensure you didn’t consider disobeying. 

You could feel his pants brush against your thighs with each clumsy step you took. Two of his fingers rested on the bare skin below where your top gathered, riding up your curve and above the elastic hem of your small shorts. It was hard to think of anything other than where he was touching your skin directly. 

“No,” you finally whimpered out.

“Hyperrigidus purpureus,” He said as if those words should mean anything to you. “Your flowers.”

“Okay?” He tugged you closer to him, resting your free hand on his chest, not knowing what to do with it. The feeling of his chest, under his clothes made her mind run with what could be hidden under the layers of fabric. 

“Flowers, one of the few that grow wild in Hell,” Alastor pulled you through the space, twirling you without sparing a thought for the way his thigh caressed your core as he took steps between your legs too large for you to have any hopes of matching.

 Each fleeting contact had you clenching around nothing. You could feel your moisture heavy over your lower lips, slick spreading down your thighs with each pass of his thigh and lunging step. Never had you so much regretted the choice to forgo panties. There was nothing to contain your ever building slick as you felt his thigh smear it into your skin. 

“Do you feel hot, darling?” Alastor asked, pulling you tighter to him as he twirled you around your modest room to music that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere. “Does it feel like you could crawl out of your skin? Did touching yourself only dampen the fire in your blood slightly?”

“How do you know that?” Your breaths were coming shallow now, face aflame and blood raging in your veins.

“Because I feel it too, ma chérie.” Alastor laughed bitterly, pushing your hips into his tightly, “Do you know why it is I am plagued by burning desire just as you?” 

“Why?” You felt the hardness of him against your hips, just beginning to awaken yet clearly present. 

“Those cursed flowers. HA! Can you imagine, something as simple as flowers could do this to you? To me?” He spun you around, stepping between your legs with each leading stride, grinding your wet cunt against his thigh as you tried to ignore the fact that your slick was being smeared around now not by your thighs rubbing together but by his rubbing against you. “Of course, I had but a fleeting exposure and yet, I burn. The fire within you must be so much brighter, having stood within a field of them? Having plucked the cursed blooms with these very fingers you had buried in your dripping cunt? The fire is consuming you, is it not?” 

He leaned down, into your space as his tight smile strained across his lips. 

“What do-” You gasped as he pulled your hips against him, dragging your core up his thigh. “What do we do about it? How do we make it stop?”

“We cannot,” Alastor laughed again, “We must simply ride it out.”

Alastor shoved you on the bed harshly, towering over you as he made quick work of unbuttoning his coat. Sharp shadows danced around the room, smothering the light from the sconces on the walls, dimming them.

Alastor ran one hand up your thigh as he reached up to his neck, fingers trembling as they took hold of his bowtie, working it free. The fingers of his other hand slipped under the worn fabric of your shorts, thumb caressing your inner thigh, slipping on the slick in the process. 

He tossed his bowtie to the ground where it joined his discarded coat. Your thigh trembled under his touch as you watched him easily unbutton the first three buttons of his collar, doing little more than to review the pale skin of his long neck. 

“There are things we can do to make it more manageable,” Alastor said, fingers snagging the hem of your shorts and tugging them lower on your hips. “Things to lessen the discomfort and perhaps even make the experience enjoyable, as you’ve already discovered.”

You whined his name, shame and want warring in your voice. You were uncomfortably wet, shorts sticking to you as your eyes roamed over Alastor. 

He looked indecent, delicious and dangerously sexy without his coat and neck exposed. The sight of him, just slightly disheveled had your core clenching. You could feel the wetness seep from you with the action. 

Alastor leaned forward, both hands finding your legs as he pulled you by strong hands wrapped around your thighs. The grip was bruising as you were dragged to the edge of the bed, knees on either side of him.

“What are-?” You were not prepared for the feeling of him standing between your knees. 

Nor were you prepared for the feeling of his fingers slipping under the waistband of your shorts. Your breath caught in your lungs as he pulled your shorts down, stepping back from you to allow them to be flung to the floor. 

Cool air did nothing but heat your core more as you watched him take the sight of you in. Large hands gripped your thighs, pulling them apart. The dim light sparkled on your slick. 

“You see,” Alastor dropped to his knees and ran his tongue out over his lips, “We’re both going to suffer with the effects of the exposure, perhaps for hours. I am going to suffer in this distasteful state because of your actions and you will have to deal with the consequences.”

“What?” You gasped, feeling the weight of his eyes on your slick cunt. He ran his fingers up your thighs, leaning into the space between them as his tongue ran across hot skin, soothing the fire in your blood. 

“It is your fault that my body has betrayed me. It is your fault that all I can smell is you.” His fingers dug into your thighs, spreading them further apart as he ran his tongue higher up your leg. “It is your fault my body burns for you. It is your fault I crave to taste you.” 

Alastor’s breath washed over your spread folds. His tongue ran over his lips again as if he was preparing for a feast. 

“Please,” You begged, not sure if you were begging him for. Fire swam inside you, being stoked and soothed both by his touch. 

“If I must suffer through this state,” Alastor leaned forward, breathing you in before licking slowly up your spread folds, greedily gathering your juices on his tongue and groaning at the taste. “Then I will use you to sate the hunger I have been so rudely cursed with.”

“What do you-” Your question became a gasp as he lapped at your folds, running the tip of his tongue around your clit with each pass. 

Each circle became tighter, providing more friction on your sensitive nub. Soon his attention was focused on it directly, lapping his tongue over it between harsh sucks and teasing nips. 

Just as the attention on your clit felt like it would send you over the edge, his mouth left it. Traveling down, his long tongue snaked into your hole, drinking your slick directly from the source. You were panting, desperate to come as his nose nudged your clit carelessly. 

His tongue slipped out, finding your clit again as a dangerous claw tipped finger slowly slipped inside. Alastor teased your opening, hardly pushing in beyond his first knuckle as he brought you near your orgasm again only to withdraw and stand.

“Please,” you begged, hand running down your body to caress your clit yourself. 

“Uncomfortable?” Alastor smiled down at you as he unbuckled his belt. He moved slowly, at a casual pace as if you where not spread out before him begging while your slick cooled on his face. “I imagine so, your exposure was much more than mine. Should I have you like this? I could walk out, take care of myself and ride out this condition in solitude.”

Your eyes fluttered between his face and his hard cock as he pulled it from his trousers. He was large and standing proud in his fist as he casually ran his fist along his length. Veins traced their way around him, leading to the angry red tip already smeared with precum. 

He was larger than you’d ever had. 

Pulling your knee up to rest against his hip, he placed his knee next to your thigh, allowing him to draw close. You reached out for anything to ground you as he ran the head of his cock along your folds. Again and again he repeated the action, smoothe head nudging your clit with each pass, sending lightening through your nerves. 

“I need you,” You tried to wiggle your hips down closer to him. “Please. I’m so hot, Alastor.” 

“You want me so bad?” Alastor sneered down at you, “Then you shall have me.” 

Placing the head of his cock at your entrance, he twitched his hips forward. You gasped at the soothing pressure as his head just probed your tight opening. He was large, both in length and girth but you struggled to think clearly enough to consider what that would mean for you as the fire inside your blood became an inferno. 

Alastor gave you one last moment to relax before snapping his hips forward and bullying his way inside your sopping opening. He spared no thought to your comfort as he harshly shoved your walls aside. Your slick provided more than enough lubrication for him to bury himself nearly all the way within you in one swift movement. 

You cried out as he stretched you, walls stretching around his girth as your body gripped him, trying to protect your unprepared opening from his intrusion.

“It’s too much,” You cried out, pushing against him with your leg and weakly tried to escape the pressure against your cervix. “I can’t. I can’t. It dosen’t fit. You don’t fit-”

“You’ll take all of me,” Alastor said darkly as he continued to push forward, “I’ll make you take it all.” 

Pleasure and pain mingled together as he pushed deeper still, head of his cock pressing against your cervix as he forced you to accommodate his length. He didn’t let up on the pressure until his balls were against your ass and his sharp hips were slatted tightly against you. 

Only when you took every little bit of his considerable cock did he still, bent over you and panting. His eyes burned into you, the fire behind them as hot as the fire in your blood. 

Never had you been so full. Never have you been so stuffed. You were stretched beyond what you thought was possible, impaled on a cock of such size you never would have guessed Alastor possessed. 

You stretched, arching your back to try and somehow create more room for him within you. His strong hands gripped your waist and thighs, claws puncturing the skin ever so slightly. Though you tried, his grip didn’t allow you to put any distance between him and you, forcing you to lay and accept the burning stretch. 

“What’s the matter, Little Doe?” Alastor teased, running his hand up your side and under your shirt, claws caressing the soft underside of your breast. “Doesn’t it soothe to have me inside you? Does it not smother the fire?”

“Yes,” tears gathered in the corners of your eyes, without the fire raging inside you there was no buffer between you and the burning stretch. “Too much. It’s too much.” 

“Oh but I’m not leaving the warmth of your cunt,” Alastor pulled back a short inch or two only to ram himself back inside to punctuate his words, “until this is out of my system. The squeeze of you around me, it soothes me. I could stay just like this.”

Alastor’s words, the sound of his voice fanned the embers if desire to life again. It wasn’t fair, he was so calm and collected and yet you struggled to form thoughts around the way his cock twitched within you. 

“Please,” you whispered, the fire in your blood coming to life with each twitch, dulling the pain. “It burns. Please, Alastor.”

“What do you want?” He sneered down at you.

“Something. Do something. More.” You rocked your hips against him, trying to dislodge him from where he pressed tightly against your cervix and get some sort of relief from the pressure, the pain and the burning.

“I thought I was too much for you?” Alastor teased, pulling back. 

The drag of his cock along your stretched walls was painfully slow, inch by inch slipping out and letting your body relax. You could swear that you felt every vein along his shaft. 

The emptiness you felt in your core shocked you. It should have been a relief to have his massive member removed from you body but it wasn’t. Looking down at him, you could see more and more of him and it made you want him to push back inside.

“Please,” you whimpered, head falling back on the bed. 

“You keep begging like that,” Alastor snarled, head of his cock just slipping free from your core, “And I won’t be able to conduct myself as a gentleman.” 

That thought, oh the way the fire surged with it. You twitched and wiggled, desperate for more as your mind was overcome with the smoke, struggling to think of anything else. If this was him being a gentleman, what would he be like when he wasn’t?

“Please, Alastor. Please, I need you.” 

“You like that?” Alastor laughed, pushing both of your legs up around his hips and thrusting forward. “You want to just be used? Ha! Those little shorts, this flimsy top? I wonder how much of this is that damned flower.” 

You moaned as his head bullied your cervix harshly only to withdraw and repeat the process, each push inside harsh and each pull out painfully, teasingly slow. You twitched and tried to rock with him only to be pinned in place as he put more of his weight on your legs. 

“I need you,” You struggled to think as he both soothed the fire and fanned the flames. “Please, Alastor. Need you. Want you. Have wanted you for so long,” 

You spilled your secrets without a single thought. It was worth it if spurred him on, if it would prevent him from stopping again. Did it matter if he knew you had thought about him when everyone else was sleeping? 

He filled you again, slower this time as he curled over you, strained smile seeming to glow with his eyes in the dimly lit room. “For how long?” 

“Always,” you struggled to think as his head pressed tightly against your cervix and his balls nestled against you.

He fucked into you slowly, each pull out bringing a wash of your slick out, coating your ass. The front of his pants were wet with slick where they hung off his hips. The hem of his shirt was damp with it, soothing your hot skin where ever it would smear against you. 

“From the moment,” you struggled to speak, moaning as his pace picked up. 

Looking away from him, you hoped that it would allow you to think. You didn’t have a chance to find out however. 

Alastor planted his hand on the bed next to your head, supporting his weight. “Look at me,” He ordered, “You will look at me while I take you.” 

“Alastor,” You whimpered as his thrust turned harsh, your body jerking with the force of it. 

“For how long?” He asked again. 

“Since we met,” your face burned. If it was from shame, desire or the flower, you didn’t know. “I’ve wanted you since we met. Please, Alastor.” 

Your hands ran up his chest, pulling at the buttons of his shirt as you tried to ground yourself. Each hit against your cervix was intoxicating, shifting more and more away from painful as he forced your body to make room for him. 

“There you go,” Alastor praised as his name fell from your lips again and again. “So good for me. See what you get when you’re a good girl?” 

You hardly had a chance to register how close you were before your orgasm washed over you with a loud moan. The power of it left you gasping and panting as Alastor seemed to swell within you. 

At first, you thought it was just the way you tightened around him as you came on his cock but there was no denying the way the base of his cock was changing with each thrust into you. 

Grabbing you harshly, he forced himself as deep as he could reach as his whole body shuddered. The knot at the base of his cock felt like it would rip you apart, there was no way you could hold it within you in addition to his girth but he gave you no choice. 

His cock twitched wildly as he rutted against you, rocking his hips rather than thrusting as you felt his seed explode. You were so full of him as the smoke seemed to blow away from your mind. Cold air caressed your skin as he pulled you up against him, supporting your weight as he sat back on the bed. 

Your body weight forced him deeper still, ensuring his knot was well and truly planted inside you. You shivered against him as his lips ran over your neck. 

“Alastor?” You licked your lips, trying not to moan as his still hard cock twitched deep inside you, pumping the final spurts of his seed inside your walls. 

His knot was so tightly stuffed within your hole that not a drop of his seed was escaping as you straddled his lap. 

“I wasn’t aware I could do this outside of season.” Alastor laughed as his sharp teeth ran over your collar bone, nipping and lapping at the blood his stinging kisses spilled.

“What?” 

“This.” He said, trying to pull his cock from you only to have your hole unwilling to allow his knot to slip free. 

“Is it,” Goosebumps ghosted your skin as he moved the thin strap of your top off your shoulder, not that it was hiding much from him at all. You could feel the thundering beat of his heart under your hand, half on bare skin and half over his partially open shirt. “Is it over?” 

“Not even close,” Alastor’s hands pulled you back from him, shifting your torso on his twitching cock and making you moan. He pulled the thin tank top up and over your head, leaving you naked in his lap. “This is but a momentary reprieve, allowing for clear heads before the fire returns to life anew.”

“Then why are you-?” He ran his tongue over your nipple, teasing the bud with the tip. 

“Oh!” He nipped at the sensitive bud as you felt the knot just inside you walls begin to lesson, “Because I can.” 

Your legs flexed on either side of his hips, raising yourself carefully off his cock as the swelling at his base went down. What you expected was for him to allow you to separate, to allow his body and yours both to rest. 

Alastor had other ideas however, thrusting up into you just as you had thought the head of his cock was going to slip from you. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” 

Alastor grabbed your hands from his chest, pulling your arms behind you harshly. Your balance was lost and you sank down on his cock harshly, feeling it impale you as he gathered your wrists in one of his hands behind your back. 

He pulled your arms back so far that you had no choice but to arch your chest into his face. Another powerful thrust up into you had you gasping as your hands dangled, fingers twitching between his knees as he bit at your breasts. 

The fire quickly returned to your blood as Alastor worked his legs out of his pants, letting the stained garment fall to the floor as he fucked up into you. 

“So weak,” He licked blood up from the curve of your breasts, smearing it as they bounced with the force of his thrusts, “You can only ride me if I allow it. How lucky are you?”

When you failed to answer him, he bit down on your shoulder. You clenched tightly around him, the coil in your core winding as quickly as the fire was returning to your blood. 

“Answer me.” 

“So lucky,” You were bouncing on his lap, head lulled back and hair falling away from you as he let you ride him in only the most technical terms. “So lucky, Alastor. I’m so close.” 

All you needed was to shift just so and his body would caress your clit with each thrust. That would be enough to send you over the edge but you had no room to move. Your legs were going numb from how they were folded under you and he just kept fucking up into you. 

“Do you want to come?” Alastor asked as the sound of his wet thighs slapping up into her filled the room. His hand left your hip to caress your abdomen. 

“Please.” 

“Look here,” his voice was gentle and you struggled to raise your head as he continued to thrust into you. 

Looking down at yourself, you saw first how his massive cock would pull from you. He was drenched with your combined juices. For a moment, you had the irrational urge to run your tongue over him, to taste the way your bodies mingled. 

There was a slight bulge in your abdomen each time his hips snapped up into you. His cock was so large that he was stretching you from the inside out. The sight had you moaning.

Your shoulders ached as he let go of your hands, pulling one forward and holding it to where his cock pushed out toward the world. You could feel him, every thrust into you from the outside. 

Pushing against your hand, he made the pressure between the two of you even greater. His other hand gripped the hair at the back of your head, using your hair to anchor you. Each thrust ran against the palm of your hand as his teasing nips ran across your jaw. 

“Come for me,” he ordered and you did, without a second thought. 

His lips crashed into yours, kissing you for the first time as your jaw fell slack. You could taste yourself on his lips, drying and strong as he swallowed your moans. You could feel how your body strangled and convulsed around him. You could feel every twitch of his cock. 

Without warning, he ripped his lips and cock both from you, tossing you to the bed. While your orgasm granted you a moment of clarity, fire raged in his eyes as he ripped at his shirt. 

You looked up at him with fear as some bulbs around your room shone brighter and brighter before bursting, unnatural shadows growing deeper. 

He climbed on the bed, grabbing your ankles and forcing you to flip onto your stomach. Strong hands ran up the back of your thighs. 

“Alastor?” 

“I am going to shape your cunt to me.” He promised, wet tongue running up the back of your thigh. “When I am done with you, no other man will be able to touch where I’ve reached. None will leave you satisfied.” 

He pulled you to your knees. His body contorted, joints shifting to allow him to lean down, face close to your weeping cunt. His hot breath washed out over the swollen folds before his mouth was on you again. 

Pushing you forward, your elbows collapsed causing you to fall face first on the bed. His tongue washed over your clit, working you closer to another orgasm with every pass before slipping with ease into your abused hole. 

“Al-” every part of you was sensitive. 

The fire was little more than embers again, quickly being stroked to life as he slurped up your combined fluids. Looking down, between your spread legs and under your body, you could see his massive cock hanging below his legs, heavy and glistening. 

His fist stroked his length lazily as you clenched around his tongue, orgasm washing over you unexpectedly. You were mortified as you bit into the sheets. Alastor had coaxed this one from your body without the fires having had a chance to build in your blood. 

This time you came from him alone, unassisted by the poison desire the flower’s pollen provided. The way he chuckled as he pulled back, licking his lips, told you he knew what he had done. 

“That’s the third time,” Alastor announced, patting your over sensitive sex harshly, smile only growing as you moaned at the soft slap. 

“Alastor, I can’t anymore.” You were over stimulated and sore. Your mind was lost on a cloud. 

“You’ll take me until I am done.” Alastor entertained no discussion, pushing inside in a swift thrust. 

His hand wrapped around the back of your neck as he pinned you face down, ass held up by a hand on your hip. You struggled to keep your head tilted enough to ensure you could still breathe as he fucked harshly into you. 

A chaotic mix of music played from somewhere, though you didnt know where. You had no radio. Rather than covering the sounds of his balls slapping harshly against your clit, it accented it, station changing with every rough hit. 

“What a good girl,” Alastor praised as you looked back at him from the corner of your eyes. 

His pace was unrelenting, slamming into you our sore body again and again as you tightened around him. How many times would he make you come? How many times could you come?

“When I’m done with you, you’ll beg for me to take you again. You’ll do anything to have me take you. Your cunt will belong to me. Only me. Mine.” 

His antlers were wide, heavy and dominating as he rammed into you with such force that the bed was jerking along the floor. Anyone at the hotel would know what was happening. 

You couldn’t make yourself care as he folded over you, squeezing your breast and pinching your nipple. All you could care about was the way his cock hit that space deep inside you that none would ever be able to touch again. 

Drool slipped from your lips but you couldn’t be bothered to care as the coil tightened yet again. How long has be been fucking you? You were hot and cold all over but you could think. At least, you were pretty sure you could think again. 

It was hard to think with the way he pounded into you, the way his breath washed over your shoulder. 

“Who do you belong to?” Alastor demanded, rutting harshly into you as his hand squeezed tighter, making your moans more gasping. “Who’s cunt is this?” 

The raw possessiveness is what did it for you. You clenched again, fluttering and twitching as you came hard, his name on your tongue. He swelled again inside you, knot dragging in and out of your hole as he leaned forward and bit down harshly on your shoulder.

“Fuck,” He groaned, voice naked of the filtered overlay that was nearly always present as he slammed his swelling knot into your tight cunt again and again, chasing his release in your milking walls regardless of the way your opening caught on his knot with each thrust. A final groaned ripped from him as he declared you his as he slammed home, biting down a second time and not letting go. Your walls twitched and pulled at him, urging him deeper in the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

You were locked against him by his teeth on your shoulder and his knot tightening in your cunt, somehow feeling even larger than the first time. His panting breath washed over you, blood dripping onto the bed from your shoulder. 

His heavy cock jerked and twitched inside you as he shot his second load, filling your corked hole with his seed. Each small thrust if his hips had his knot pulling against your rim, unable to breach it without serious intention to do so. Every time you felt it tug against your opening, your breath caught and your body twitched around him.

He held you tightly to his body, torso pressed tightly against your back as his tongue soothed the puncture wounds he left on your shoulder. He twitched deep within you with every rock of his hips. You were limp in his arms, spent. 

“How do you feel?” He asked, voice softer than you expected. 

“So full,” you whimpered as his hands stroked soothingly over your skin. 

“I know, My Doe, I know.” He shifted, falling to his side, taking you with him as he spooned you, still locked together by his cock. “You took me so well.” 

“Is it over?” You whispered as he caressed your sides, hot breath making your hair tickle your face. 

“Soon,” he promised, rocking his deflating knot until he could pull out of you only to lazily slip back inside your messy hole. “Just a little more.”

You whimpered as he lifted his knee, hooking your leg over it and spreading your folds as he worked your hole. You were sore, sensitive and yet your whimpers quickly turned into soft sighs as he caressed your clit. 

The fire was little more than embers, no matter how he stroked you. That didn’t keep you from desiring the way his fingers felt on you. It was a desire that was nearly all your own now. You gripped his thigh, fingers slipping in the soft fur that ran up the outsides of his legs and nails digging into the skin. 

“One more,” He promised as he worked your sore body up, tongue running along your neck and fingers pinching at your breast and clit both. “One more, and we’ll be done.”

You swore you couldn’t do it. Each stroke of his fingers was painful and yet your body tightened under his hand, greedy for more. He was softly working you up once again, grinning as you gasped and moaned with every thrust. 

“Alastor, I-”

“Even after taking me again and again, you’re so tight,” his praise had you clenching around him. “Made for me.” 

He sighed as you came around him, body too spent to do more than flutter and twitch, his name falling from your lips in a prayer. As you came, his thrusts turned harsher as he followed you, cock swelling yet again inside you. 

The tip of his cock nestled against your cervix as he locked into place, twitching as he deposited another load inside you, whispered praise dripping into your ears. 

You sagged on the bed, held tightly in his arms as you realized the fire was out. Sweat cooled on your skin as you sighed. Alastor was still held tightly within you, twitching slightly as his knot deflated more with each passing minute. 

“I’m sorry,” You whispered, afraid to face him now that you could think clearly. Alastor had never shown any interest in you in either a real romantic sense or a physical sense and you had essentially drugged him into a sex filled afternoon. It hadn’t been intentional but the guilt still ate at you. 

“All’s well that ends well.” Alastor said against the back of your beck, “And I would say that ended rather well indeed. Wouldn’t you?” 

You hesitated, not knowing what exactly to say. If you agreed, you feared giving away how much you had enjoyed the afternoon but if you disagreed, you would be insulting his performance. 

Alastor rocked his hips against you, though he was softening for the first time he was still firm enough for the friction to have you gasping. “Well?” 

“Yeah,” you blushed as he slipped out of you, feeling the wave of fluids that followed. 

Alastor snapped his fingers, materializing a warm wet towel into is hand. Softly, he cleaned the fluids from your thighs as he hummed, sitting on the bed naked beyond the mostly unbuttoned shirt. 

Sleep called to you, body sore and spent as his soft touches lulled you. Your eyes slipped open as his fingers caught your chin and forced your attention onto him. 

“In the future, do not pick random blooms. You never can be sure what unintended consequences exposure will have. Oh, and do warn me should you find your nose in those particular blooms again, I wouldn’t want you to suffer.”

~~~~~<3 Tag List: @catticora

[stsgluver]

synopsis. gojo satoru always wins.

wc. 880

tags. gojo x reader, fluff, spoilers for 236, possible spelling mistakes I have not proofread this (do I ever?)

a/n. currently clearing out all my old wips. i've already written this in a different version I think but idc bc if i write about him coming home enough times he will eventually do it. my next few works are probs going to be my rich boy!gojo drafts

there was a brief moment when the world stilled. the air was squeezed from your lungs as everything around you slowly began to spin and you weren’t sure the last time you had slept – had it been that long that the hallucinations were finally starting to kick in?

“oh my god.” those were the only words you could utter in your state of disbelief. you couldn’t close your eyes: you couldn’t risk him disappearing. if you were brave enough, you’d reach out to trace the new scars carved into his porcelain skin.

“you can’t say that, you know how my ego is,” gojo looked as gorgeous as ever, arm raised as he leant against the doorframe of his apartment. the same apartment you’d set up camp in nineteen days ago and had only left when yuuji brought you some food. you’d lost too much to process and you were a shell of the person gojo had kissed goodbye to before he left for shibuya. there were deep purple bags under your eyes, your hair was loosely tied back in a messy bun that probably hadn’t been properly washed or brushed in several days and your clothes were probably just gojo’s – you’d been desperate for some sense of familiarity. 

he looked like he hadn’t just been sealed away in another realm. the only evidence of a struggle were his new scars that seemed to decorate every inch of available skin, beyond that he looked excited to be alive, his fitted clothes clinging to him. his cursed energy was terrifyingly immense and you knew him well enough to know he was still riding off of a high that came with fighting for him. 

you were scared to ask who had been the opponent – never would the world’s strongest sorcerer be injured and not cause equal amounts of harm in return. he had a title to uphold after all, something to prove.

“not even a hello?” he shook his head, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he tsked you. he was so casual in his mannerisms, playing it all off as though he hadn’t spent what felt like an eternity counting down the seconds so that he could see you again. “you can’t have forgotten me that quickly.” he was practically whining now, desperate for the love and warmth you gave him but not daring to cross the threshold and smother you. 

you weren’t a sorcerer and though you understood some of his world, there was so much more that you didn’t. gojo would be lying if he said he wasn’t scared that one day it would be too overwhelming for you and you’d leave him like everyone else had. 

so he did what he did best: masked his insecurities with a sarcastic humour that held no bite: “don’t tell me there’s another man in the house.”

you smiled, and blinked, and you were suddenly here again; in the moment with him and not a thousand miles away wondering what the hell he’d been through. a lone tear slipped down your cheek and gojo ached to wipe it away.

“are you… are you real?” your voice was still shaky and if it wasn’t for the complete silence, you doubted that he would’ve been able to hear you. 

but he did, and then his arm is up against the doorframe again and he was gesturing to his physique as he complimented himself, “super powerful, mega rich and dashingly handsome? i know how perfect i may seem but i’m very real.” he winked and suddenly it was like you remembered that you have free will, practically jumping into his arms.

gojo wasn’t phased as he tucked you tightly into his body, his cursed technique completely dropped for the first time in what felt like forever. his body breathed a sigh of relief as his muscles ached.

“you’re such a jackass,” you lifted up your head to rest against his chest, eyes shining with tears that didn't fall.

gojo nodded slowly, brushing back the loose strands of your hair as he stared at you adoringly, “you love me.”

“mhmm,” you hummed, taking a step back from his longing arms to look up at him through your lashes. “y’know,” you traced a finger across the material on his chest, “you could make it up to me by closing your eyes.” his breath hitched ever so slightly under your touch. you leant in so that your lips almost touched his ear, “i need to kick my boytoy out. things could get kinda awkward if you two saw each other.”

it would be easier to list the things gojo wouldn’t do for you. he squeezed his eyes tightly shut, even going as far as to hold a hand over them. “how pretty is he on a scale of 1-10?”

there was a pause before you responded, as you took in every inch of the man that stood before you. a god in a mortal’s body. one that lived and breathed and worshipped you. “he’s gorgeous,” you whispered, breathless simply from his existence alone. and then he’s smiling and laughing and picking you up, spinning you in a circle and telling you how much he loves you and for a few brief seconds he’s just satoru and you’re just his.

[gummyfang]

♡♡♡ |   ˗ˏˋ TOO CLOSE FOR COMFORT  ´ˎ˗

➳　【 S i m o n　‘G h o s t’　R i l e y　ｘ　Ｒｅａｄｅｒ 】

❧ Warnings: 𝟏𝟖+, 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭, 𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰, 𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐛 / 𝐠𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐯, 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐥, 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐞, 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤

[ 𝟑.𝟒𝐤 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 ]

[ REQUEST BY ANON ] On my knees and requesting respectfully a jealous Ghost fic cos I just wanna be manhandled by that giant behemoth of a man. Just throw me against the wall and break my back daddy 💦😭 

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: sneef sneef i actually interp him as a v soft dom or sub but i cant say im not a rough ghost enjoyer on occasion. also this is not a canon-compliant fic don’t come at me im just here for a good time. ft keegan bc i wanted to add him. this kinda sucks lol.

𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 ♡

It wasn’t like you ever purposely set out to make Simon envious of the men you spoke with.

It was just that, as you’d learned, your Lieutenant was a lot more prone to envy than anyone could have predicted.

When the two of you had spent your first night together and officially gotten together, you and Simon had made the mutual decision to keep your relationship on the down low. Considering Simon was technically your superior at work, you two didn’t want to get into problems with your jobs due to a lack of professionalism. 

That, and Simon was not a man who enjoyed attracting much social attention to himself anyways. He loathed the potential buzz that a new relationship on base would spark, and decided it would be better to announce somewhere later along the line.

This, however, came with one very obvious problem.

You were attractive.

Your good looks were not the issue by themselves. Simon could not deny he reveled in how handsome you were when you gave him one of your loving stares, and how pretty you looked beneath him when he fucked you stupid.

No, the problem was that your attractiveness did not go unnoticed to other men either.

All Simon could do was let the simmering sting of jealousy stew in his chest as he watched you talk to Keegan. You seemed to be blissfully unaware of the ways in which Keegan’s gaze lurked over your form, like a dog salivating at the sight of a steak. But Simon noticed. He sure as fucking hell noticed.

“Good job during training today. Your form is getting better.” 

The flirtatious undertone of the compliment clearly went over your head, as you just chuckled and thanked him. Simon’s grip on his own crossed arms hardened considerably, earning him some nervous looks.

He was leering at the two of you with a thunderous gaze, the atmosphere practically rumbling with tension. It was starting to become apparent how much this bothered him, some of the soldiers sitting near him sharing concerned but equally confused glances. 

If Simon was being honest with himself, he’d probably realize Keegan’s attraction wasn’t as predatory as he was making it out to be in his mind. You’d been friends with the man for months, and you’d been getting along with him very well long before you entered your relationship with Simon.

But the Lieutenant was not being honest with himself, and he couldn’t give less of a damn whether Keegan wanted to propose to you with flowers or just herd you into his bed. His attraction to you was clear as fucking day, and there was nothing Simon could do to stop it without drawing attention to your relationship status.

Lieutenant Ghost was a man of terrifyingly strong control.

And yet, he felt all that control slip from his iron grasp as he watched Keegan extend his hand as he laughed, his fingers intently tracing over your hip.

With that, his patience snapped like a tightly-strung rope. He rose to his feet with an aura so threatening it would make any hostile think twice before approaching him.

Keegan’s steel gaze turned icy as it moved from you to the Lieutenant’s hulking figure behind you. The corners of your mouth dropped slightly as you noticed the abrupt change in Keegan’s demeanor, before feeling the cold zipper of an open jacket brush against your neck. You turned around, faced with your boyfriend’s chest that was practically in your face right now.

“You are needed in my office.”

For a moment, you thought Ghost was talking to Keegan. It was only because he placed his hand firmly on your shoulder that you knew he was talking to you. The two men were locked in what appeared to be a staring match. You swallowed thickly as the tense, uncomfortable atmosphere became more noticeable to you, prickling at your skin.

Finally, it was Keegan who relented, his gaze moving down. “See you later then.” he said, voice devoid of the playful edge it was filled with earlier. He gave you and Ghost one last wary glance, before heading off to a group of people in the corner.

You watched him leave, slightly baffled, before feeling Simon’s iron grip pull you away.

You eyed him with confusion and slight annoyance. Simon, on the other hand, was staring straight ahead, refusing to look at you as he pushed you along. You had never seen him act like this.

“What’s all this about?!” you hissed in a hushed tone. “We’re being stared at!”

You didn’t receive a response. Whatever he had on his mind, he was too focused on it to pay you any mind right now.

Things became even more confusing when he headed straight past the door to his shared office, your brow furrowing even deeper now. “Lieutenant?” you tried, a hint of concern laced in your voice. 

Suddenly, the grip on your shoulder moved down to grasp at your wrist instead, large hands clamping down around your flesh. It didn’t hurt, Simon always had the wits not to hurt you, but his grip was still unrelentingly tight. With his other hand, he unlocked the door to his private room, dragging you in with him. 

Before you could question him any further, he’d ripped off his mask and hungrily sunken his lips against yours.

Your hands froze at your sides, too shocked to respond as his tongue aggressively pushed at your lips. Sighing out a quiet moan, you opened your mouth, met with the overwhelming feeling of Simon wrapping his tongue around yours. 

Simon rumbled out a low groan as you finally started to regain control of your senses, your hands finding their way to the back of his neck. You held onto fistfuls of his hair, tugging at it lightly as his tongue danced with yours feverishly.

You managed to break away after a few minutes of his hurried and rough kisses, only for him to possessively start teething at your neck. 

“Simon…” you mewled, head tipping back to grant him more access. You were so confused but god, you didn’t mind this. Simon was usually incredibly careful and gentle with you. This was new. 

You grabbed onto his shoulders shakily, stabilizing yourself as Simon continued his merciless onslaught on your skin. You sucked in a breath when you felt him teeth at your neck, switching between feverish licks, harsh sucks and bites. You definitely knew that was going to bruise.

“Si, they’re- fuck- people are gonna see that!” you breathed out, tapping him on his side. “Good.” his deep voice rumbled in response, the first word he’d uttered to you since you left with him. His voice had an uncharacteristically dark edge to it, at least when it came to you. “Maybe that’ll keep those fuckers off of ya next time.”

Your eyes widened slightly. Oh.

It was only then that the quarter fell in your mind. Not once in the short month you’d been together had it occurred to you that Ghost was capable of jealousy, much less one to act on it. 

Honestly, you felt a little bad for him. Not that you really could have done anything about it, the idea to keep your relationship hidden was Simon’s idea and mutually agreed upon. But you honestly hadn’t considered how it was possibly affecting him. 

Still, you were pretty sure you knew how to make that up to him right now.

Besides, it wasn’t like you hadn’t imagined what it would be like if Simon fucked the living hell out of you before.

You hiked up one of your legs intently, hooking it around his as you hung off his body. You’d hike it up to his hip if you could, and you sure as hell tried, but God, were you reminded of how Simon easily towered above you in moments like this.

Nonetheless, he seemed pleasantly responsive to your advance. His hand found its way to the small of your back, fingers digging into your skin so harshly you were sure they would leave light flushed marks.

You could feel his prominent, rock-hard erection prod against your belly. Your hands slid down, fingers circling around his belt slowly and gently. Your fingernails dug themselves against his toned stomach, crescent-shaped marks glaring right above the place he wanted your hands most. Simon did not seem to reciprocate the slow, patient teasing you were trying to coax him into. You sucked in a sharp breath as you felt his thick thumbs roughly force their way past the waist of your pants, roughly tugging at the material. Then it stopped. You blinked, looking up at Simon, realizing he was staring straight back at you. He was a damn sight to behold. His balaclava had been roughly tugged down to pool around his neck, revealing those pretty swollen lips and that sexy stubble he usually kept obscured. You could see a dimly glistening trail of spit trailing down from the corner of his lip, undoubtedly due to the tilted angle he’d been ravaging your neck at. He didn’t move his hands, his head instead inching a little closer. “You can tell me to stop.” he responded in that gruff tone, lust dragging his voice down by at least an octave. 

“You can tell me to stop, or that you don’t want this, and we can stop. But if you don’t-” His grip tightened on your trousers, the pull of the fabric drawing you in closer. “-I will have my way with you.” Fuck. Even when he wanted to do nothing but jump you and rail you until your legs gave out, he still waited for your word without fail. You felt a wave of arousal pool between your legs intensely, your clit throbbing gently at the dark promise rumbling in your ear. Your eyes were almost glazed over as you just stared back at him for a moment, puffy breaths seeping out through parted lips. “You may, please-” Your plea had only barely tumbled off your lips when Simon crashed his own on them again. Wasting no time getting down to business, those thumbs hooked around the waist of your pants were yanked down, taking the fabric down with them. Your underwear soon followed, all while his tongue was still firmly pressed against yours. 

Simon wasn’t kidding when he said he’d have his way with you. You felt his large hands clamp around your sides like a vice, bending and molding you to his liking as if you were clay. His mouth began its second onslaught on your sensitive neck and shoulders, this time biting from the back.

You felt him twist you around, effortlessly as if you were a doll, his left hand leaving your waist to clamp around your wrists instead. You were at his mercy, and the thought made the slick sensation between your folds even more apparent. 

It was as if Simon read your mind. The hand that had momentarily remained on your waist trailed down quickly, your shirt curling under his fingers as he kept them pressed tightly against your body. 

Simon was a man who enjoyed taking his time with you, most of the times he’d have sex with you being preceded by extensive foreplay, but he was in no such mood right now. 

His index and middle finger dipped down smoothly, squeezing your clit between them just perfectly. Your mouth opened in a quiet gasp as you instinctively pressed your body into his chest, though the grasp on your wrists ultimately held you in place firmly. 

The pressure on your clit was rough, deliciously so. His movements were swift and controlled as he rubbed up and down just perfectly, fingers occasionally dipping down to prod at your entrance before sliding back up. “Simon, oh God, mmmf…”

You whimpered, your head leaning against his shoulder for any semblance of support. “‘S that good?” The bass of his voice rumbling in your ear made you shudder, swallowing thickly.

“Yeah, mm… Simon… Simon-” His name drifted off your lips in broken moans and whines, and the Lieutenant absolutely reveled in it. He was the only one who would ever get to hear you moan his name like this, only his name.

“Could anyone else touch you like this? God, you’re so fucking wet for me. All for me.” He growled possessively. This time when his hand slid down, they encircled your hole before plunging in fully without warning.

You whined quietly as you felt his thick digits curl against your g-spot expertly, filling you up nicely and leaving no room for small casual pleasantries. He plunged in harshly with a grunt, and you let out a loud moan. “Speak up.”

“Jus’ you. Only you, Si- God.” Your boyfriend kept ramming his digits into your cunt at a merciless rate, as your breaths started to come out in high-pitched whines and pants. He peered at you through the holes of his skull-shape mask still resting on his face. Simon reveled in watching you lose your composure and whimper like a bitch in heat for all the ways in which he could make you feel good.

“I can’t understand you when you sound like that.” Your glazed eyes snapped open, looking up at him as he looked at you darkly. Fuck, he was enjoying toying with you.

“You’re th’ only one. The only one. Nobody else. Nhh… Si… only one who can make me feel s’good…” 

You were struggling to think straight, struggling to form a cohesive sentence as the loud squelching of Simon’s fingers abusing your pussy echoed off the walls. Your head lurched forwards with a loud breathy moan as he changed his angle, somehow hitting your G-spot even more precisely.

You looked back at him, lust clouding your vision as your voice lowered to a more devious tone.

“Keegan could never… make me feel like this…” Instantly, the movements inside you stopped, his fingers stilling inside of you and his other hand finally releasing your wrists. For a second, you thought you fucked up royally and actually hit a nerve. 

This was not the case. Quite the opposite, in fact. 

You heard aggressive rustling and the rumble of a zipper being undone. You tried looking back at him but gasped when you felt his hand clamp down on the back of your neck, torso pressed firmly against the wall. 

His other hand quickly pulled out of you, instead roughly realigning your hips to be further back. The whimper humming softly in your throat suddenly burst out as a loud squeak as the feeling was soon replaced with that of his weeping tip prodding at your cunt, his erect cock pushing its way between your folds.

Simon roughly shoved his way inside, hand roughly keeping you from instinctively lurching forwards. His warm breath puffed against your ear with rumbling grunts as he pushed himself in deeper, until his pelvis was pressed snugly against your ass.

The man did not give you much time to adjust to his girth before starting to move. Not that you needed much time after the rough way in which he had prepared you with his fingers. 

By now, the slick was generously coating your walls, lubricating your hot cunt enough for Simon’s cock to slip in and out effortlessly.

Your mouth fell agape, your cheeks flushed as you struggled to keep your wobbly legs from collapsing, Simon’s rough and fast thrusts throwing you off balance. But nothing slipped past Ghost, you soon remembered, as you felt his tattooed muscular arm clamp around your middle harshly to keep you stable.

You quickly lost control over your volume, whines and whimpers steadily turning into loud and broken. This was usually where Simon would shush you, shove his fingers into your mouth or kiss you. But not this time. “You’re so fucking loud… Fuck, you love this, don’t you?” he growled into your ear, adjusting his pace until he was brutally pistoning his dick into your cunt, his balls audibly smacking against your skin.

“God… you fit so fucking perfectly around this cock. Your pussy was made for this cock.” Simon was usually not one for dirty talk, the words leaving an odd and cringeworthy taste in his mouth after he’d say them. But he couldn’t stop himself, his brain just rolling out the word vomit to subject you to like an assembly line.

You sure as hell weren’t going to complain.

“Simon, fuck- Fuck! Please, just like that. I need- I need you.”

The consistency of his thrusts faltered at that, something that almost sounded like a whimper erupting from his throat. 

A drop of sweat rolled down your forehead as your eyebrows scrunched together, starting to feel the familiar knot in your stomach tightening. Your boyfriend fingering you had already gotten you halfway there, and with the pace at which he was drilling into you you weren’t going to last much longer.

“C’mon, love. My name- let them know. They can all fucking know. Please. I need them to know who’s fucking you. Please…”

He groaned loudly as his hips stuttered, unable to resist you. Goddamn you. You could metaphorically get him to his knees even when he was fucking you against a wall like he wanted to wreck you.

You whimpered, tongue swiping over your lips before obliging him. “Simon- mmm, Simon…” You were hesitant, your boyfriend’s wishes upon establishing your relationship ringing in your mind. But the rough smack you got to your hip told you he couldn’t give less of a fuck right now. “Simon, fuck- God, Simon! Simon!” His name continued to tumble off your lips like a mantra, each thrust into your spongy cunt leaving you less able to think. He was the only thing on your mind, just Simon, only he could fuck you like this. Finally, the coil that had been building came undone accompanied by a loud scream of his name. Your pussy clenched harshly around him as you came on his cock. You were goddamn grateful Simon was holding you up right about now, as you were sure you would have sunken to the floor had it not been for his arm keeping you secure.

The feeling of you clenching around his dick finally sent Simon over the edge too. He let out the most delicious guttural groan as his movements stuttered for one final time, cock quivering before shooting his seed deep inside of you. 

He continued to sloppily fuck his cum into you a few more times before his movements stilled completely, stabilizing himself against the wall with his hand. A silence fell over the two of you as you just took a moment to catch your breaths, Simon’s other hand rubbing over your stomach almost apologetically. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence by any means, but it was also one filled with the realization that there was no way nobody had heard you. 

It wasn’t going to be long before everyone knew who the Lieutenant had been fucking in his room.

“Si, I gotta- I gotta sit.” you finally broke the silence. He responded quickly, pulling out of you with a shaky breath before guiding you to his bed, helping you sit down as he took off his mask and placed it on his nightstand. He eyed your cunt, gently reaching down to half-heartedly shove some of his oozing cum back into your pussy. You whined softly, but didn’t have the energy to do anything else, instead just leaning against his chest. “You sure you don’t mind?” you whispered, fingers tracing the dark lines of his tattoo gently. Simon just grunted.

“It was bound to come out sooner or later.” he said gruffly. “I was growing real sick of it anyway. About time those shitbirds learned you’re spoken for.” You chuckled softly, wrapping an arm around his waist to sleepily tug him into a hug. “You found one hell of a way for them to find out, though. Fucking hell, Si.”

That earned you a gruff chuckle from your boyfriend, who started to guide you to lie down with him on the bed and pulled you tighter against his chest. His lips gently pressed to your forehead as you closed your eyes, the finger drawing figures on his arm slowly coming to a halt as you dozed off in his arms.

You’d both deal with the consequences of this in the morning.

Pinglist:

@rahmown​ (ty for being the first and only one so far <33)

[short-honey-badger]

Phantom Pain part 2

Masterlist

Part 2 of my mini fic. I hope you enjoy this one as well!

You jerk away from his hand with a sneer, cheeks flushing at the unexpected kiss, "Please get off of me," you demand, tone not leaving any room for joking. Just because the two of you apparently belonged together didn't mean he could get all touchy-feely with you immediately.

You are pleased when he actually lets you go and plops back into his own seat. You turn and examine him with a frown, flickering your eyes up and down his rather impressive form. Your soulmate was handsome in a rugged sort of way with dark eyes and a carefree smile that could put anyone at ease. Anyone but you, at least.

"Shanks," you say his name and the man perks up like a puppy. You furrow your brow at him, trying to recall why his name sounds so damn familiar, and you jerk back even further when it finally clicks, "Red-Haired Shanks? The Yonko?" You demand, and your voice goes a little shrill at the end. Your heart wants to beat out of your chest, and your eyes are wide as dinner plates. It would be your luck that someone so terrifyingly strong would be your soulmate. This must be to make up for your own cowardly and wiley ways. You were a firm believer in not your monkey, not your circus.

This man made other people's business, his business, and that wasn't something you wanted to deal with. Not like you had much of a choice if he was believed, but you would not hide away how you felt. You've never held back before. Why stop now?

Shanks just laughs when he feels your annoyance and frustration stream down the bond the two of you share, "Yep," he pops the p and leans in close to you, and you lean away in response, "The one and only," he gives you a smug little grin and you suddenly want to wipe it off his face with a well-placed punch, "You still haven't told me your name yet, Hon."

You reach for your mug to give yourself a little bit of time to think about how you want to respond. Running was out of the question. His entire crew was in the building with him, and you didn't think you could get very far anyway. And even if you did manage to get away, Shanks knew what you looked like and could easily track you down with the connections he surely had.

You let out an explosive sigh and mourn the freedom you once had, and then quietly tell your soul mate your name.

"_," Shanks says your name softly, tasting the syllables on his tongue, and you shiver at the way he says it. How can he say your name with so much emotion attached to it? How can he care so much about you already? It's enough to almost frighten you.

Shanks stares at you, brushing away your rising confusion that he feels. You were nothing like he had expected out of a soul mate, surly and snappy with a bad attitude. But you were his, and he would show you how much you meant to him even if you didn't want anything to do with him. You were made for him, just like he was made for you.

"I like it, your name I mean," the redhead says, and satisfaction curls hot in his chest when he feels your embarrassment. Who knew that you were so shy? He wonders if it is your biology or you responding to him.

"Thanks, I guess," you murmur and give him a strange look. What an odd statement to make, but your soul mate seemed like an odd man anyway, so what was new?

Shanks grins and reaches out to drag you closer by your stool, causing you to flail for a hot second as you lose your balance. The Yonko saves you from the close fall by wrapping his arm around your waist, "Oopse," he says with that smug grin, and again, you want to wipe it off his pretty face with your fist. You can feel his joy and playfulness over the bond you share with him.

"Insufferable," you grumble lowly. You shift in your seat just to feel how tightly he holds you, and the longer you stay, the more you feel that freedom slips further and further away. You have run from this your entire life, and in one fell swoop, your fate had been sealed by walking into the wrong tavern.

"Can't help myself, Baby," Shanks says, and you can feel his joy and giddiness at you accepting your place at his side. Maybe not fully, but he could tell that you didn't plan on running anymore. His arm tightens around your waist, and Shanks leans in to drop a kiss on the top of your head, "I wanna know everything about you."

You huff through your nose, eyes rolling to the heavens, and when they come back down, they settle on Shanks, who looks eager just to be near you. You suppose his open affection would be something you'd need to get used to.

"Finnnee," you draw out and then tip up the remainder of your drink, "But you are buying the rest of the night," like hell would you spend what little money you had if your soul mate was here. You would happily let him pick that up for you.

"I think I can handle that. Pick your poison, Baby," he says easily, and hours later, you find out that the redhead was serious about wanting to know everything about you. Shanks had asked you every question under the sun, to the point that you had snapped at him to be silent for two seconds just so you could take a breather and think. This man was overwhelming in every way possible, and it made you wonder why fate decided the two of you belonged together. However, for all your dislike and disgust for soul mates, you couldn't deny that yours wasn't a bad one.

"Alright, that's enough. You're a sponge, aren't ya, Sweetheart?" Shanks says, and you blink up at him, vision a little swimmy. Huh, guess you had drank more than what you thought.

Shanks stands and steadies his soul mate when you seem to sway to the side. He gently pulls you off the stool and laces his hand with one of your own, "I think it's time we got back to the ship," he says and makes sure to keep his voice clear. The Yonko didn't want you to think that he had kidnapped you or something. He watches your vision sharpen as you process what he said.

You swallow harshly, hand clenching around his own and your free hand tangling in his dark cloak. Fuck. You weren't ready. How were you supposed to be there for someone else when you could hardly be there for yourself? This man was so strong and you were so weak in comparison it was pathetic.

Before you could spiral further, Shanks grabbed your attention by tugging you into his chest and kissing the top of your head just as softly as he did earlier. He could feel your fear and anxiety flowing between the two of you, and it made his heart ache that you were so fearful of something so good.

"Don't worry. We'll take this one step at a time,_ " he says your name again, and you feel yourself relax just a bit. He says it like it's the most important thing in the world, and maybe it is to him. He grins at you when you calm down and pulls away, but keeps his hand tangled with your own, "Now let's go. I wanna show you my ship. We've got a lot to catch up on."

Shanks pulls you out of the tavern and down to the harbor, and you have no choice but to follow behind him, completely forgetting your now dry coat left hanging by the door.

[anothertimdrakestan]

Hi Elle!! Hope all is well 💕💕

Can I request a headcanon or fic of where Dick and y/n have been in a serious relationship for a few years and OC has become a “mom figure” to all the other batboys. So when the batboys misunderstand Dick and OC getting into a big fight somewhere, they both come home (either to their place or to the manor) to find that the batboys have moved/thrown out all of Dick’s things because they love OC that much??

Thank youuu ☺️

Ahhh this is such a cute little idea!! Thank you so so much for the request it’s lovely to see an old friend <333

Found Family - Dick Grayson x Reader

Steph gave you a sympathetic smile as she poured the rest of the wine bottle into your now empty glass. “What’s wrong hun? Because if it’s boy troubles I will personally castrate Richard if he hurt you.” Which only made you sigh as you nodded. Her eyes widened, you and Dick never ever fought, and this foreign emotional territory was a shock to you too- hence the wine.

“Dick asked me to move in with him, but I’m not ready to leave my place! I love Gotham, and I’m not sure Bludhaven is where I’m meant to be. But I also know I could never leave him. I just told him I needed more time to think and I think he took it really personally. It’s not that I’m not ready to live with him, I’m just not ready to leave my life here even if it is just a town over.” You said, happy to put into words the emotions swirling in your chest.

“What?! You are NOT leaving Gotham anytime soon. What on earth would I do without you here?” Steph exclaimed, putting down her glass to pick up her phone, fingers typing frantically.

Less than a minute later, Tim was jogging into the Manor kitchen, “Dick’s tryna take Y/N from us? Over my dead body.” And before you could tell him otherwise, the young hero burst out the room, clearly on a type of war path.

“No! I love Dick and you guys, Bludhaven is great! I just need-”

“Taking down Richard has always been on my bucket list.” Damian’s snarky voice echoed through the manor as he stalked out the same door as Tim. You scrambled up and after him, but Steph side stepped in front of you, “don’t you dare try to fix this, we’ve got it!” Which only made you more nervous for the future of your relationship.

Before you knew it, another bottle was opened, and the colors of the Manor living room were awfully fuzzy. You were pretty sure you’d seen Jason, Tim, and Damian zipping in and out of the manor, each repeatedly promising an increasingly violent demise for your boyfriend, who’s radio silence was only making you more anxious. Steph, while physically with you, was terrifyingly glued to her phone, sending text after text- even taking the occasional call, but she was speaking quiet enough that your tipsy-mind couldn’t process the words flying out of her mouth.

You truly weren’t sure how much time had passed when Dick burst through the manor shouting “Stephanie Brown where the hell did you hide her!” And before you could shriek with excitement, Dick appeared in front of you, his eyes frantic until he saw you were okay.

“Dickie!” You cooed, outstretching your arms so he would scoop you up into a hug. And he did. He was breathing heavy, burying his head in the crook of your neck as he took a deep inhale. You were just giddy to see your handsome man, squeezing him tighter, wrapping your legs around his waist, happy to be carried as you weren’t sure you could stand in your current state.

“What on earth did they do to you sweetheart,” Dick mumbled, walking back towards the kitchen so you could place you on a counter, you leaned back to look up at his eyes. He swiped a hand over your cheek, you assumed you were still warm from the alcohol.

“She’s. Fine. Can’t say the same about you you selfish monster,” Steph slurred her speech, pointing an accusatory finger at Dick who gave you both a confused look.

Almost like a sitcom, the three other boys burst into the room, as if on cue.

“Step away from the woman Grayson!” Jason shouted as Damian lobbed the nearest manor antique he could get his hands on at Dick, who of course caught it effortlessly, setting it down next to you on the counter.

“What the hell is going on?” Dick raised his voice, but Tim was already in between the two of you, pushing Dick backwards as Damian hopped up onto the counter next to you, silently handing you a glass of water which you graciously took, enjoying the plot unfolding before you.

“No questions at this time Richard, as Y/N’s personal advisor I’m here to state the case.” Tim began, Jason and Damian nodding in agreement. Steph had her phone out, clearly filming the entire argument.

Tim continued, “it has come to our attention that you intend to take Y/N from us.”

“I asked her to move in with me?” Dick looked exasperated but intrigued by the way his brothers had turned on him in your name.

“And in doing so, you’d be removing her from Gotham, and therefore the four of us!” Tim concluded, and at the statement, Jason, Steph, and Damian mumbled angry agreements.

Dick scoffed, “I’m sorry, I thought she was my girlfriend, and you guys love coming to Bludhaven! With Y/N there it’s more reason for everyone to spend more time over there.”

Damian piped up immediately, “we hate Bludhaven Richard, Y/N is the only thing that makes it manageable.”

Jason snorted, “ever realized we only go over for dinner when Y/N is visiting you? Or that Steph only wants Sunday bagels in Bludhaven cuz Y/N spends the weekends there? Did you seriously think we just went over for you?” You cringed as the harsh tone, but Dick didn’t look offended, rather, proud?

Dick opened his mouth to retort, then closed it. Tim spoke up again, “Don’t worry Richard, I’ve already mended the problem at hand.”

Now Dick spoke up, “what the hell did you brats do now”.

“To the Zeta Tube!” Jason called, scooping you and Damian up in one arm and sprinting towards the teleporter, with Dick screeching for him to put you down following close behind. For once, Damian wasn’t squirming out of Jason’s grasp, rather he had quietly grabbed your hand, saying “I hope you love your new home” to you right before the Zeta Tube activated.

When you came through, Jason set you and Damian down happily, and you were situated in a fully furnished apartment. Furnished with your and Dick’s combined furniture. You froze for a moment, feeling like you were in a different dimension until you notice the window in the apartment. You recognized the block corner instantly.

“We refurbished an old safe house! It’s south west Gotham, so close enough to Bludhaven that Dick can’t whine too much, but only a couple minutes drive, or instant Zeta Tube to the manor!” Tim exclaimed excitedly.

Damian piped up, “we stripped Dick’s apartment to the ground to furnish it! Not like either of you will be needing it anyway!”

Dick had been silent, drinking in the new view. But he came up beside you to stare out the window, “I think they just made a compromise for us, but I do want you to love it. What I should’ve said earlier, is that I don’t need to be in Bludhaven, I need to be with you. You’re my home Y/N.” He pressed a kiss to your temple and you leaned back into his chest.

You spoke up, “I love it, and I love you, and I especially love you guys,” you turned around to face your family. Steph was grinning, Jason was nodding knowingly, Tim was off slightly adjusting furniture placements, and Damian was- wiping away a tear. Not worth pointing out, because he’d deny it anyway, but your heart was bursting knowing the little guy wanted you near just as badly as you wanted to be close to him.

“Tim! Get over here, it’s group hug time!” Dick called, throwing an arm around Jason and Steph while you scooped up Damian, who for the second time that day, wasn’t fighting back. Tim crashed into the hug and your swore you could feel your heart beating out of your chest with pride in your found family.

Tim’s phone vibrated and he shouted “Dick! You’re rich! The Bludhaven apartment just sold!” And Dick shrieked, “You put my apartment up for sale in a day!!” To which Damian shrugged, “not like there was anything in there after we were through.” Jason nodded in agreement saying: “yeah, you don’t even wanna know what plan B was if you said no to this place!” But Steph shushed him before he could divulge any more, most likely violent, secrets. You couldn’t help but grin knowing your family had your back no matter what, even if Dick was slightly concerned over his brother’s undying loyalty to you, it made staying in Gotham that much more worth it to you both.

“As your realtor I will be taking 15% of the profit! Gonna go meet the new tenants!” Tim called, beelining to the Zeta Tube before Dick could even try to tell him no. You gave Damian’s hair a ruffle, which he immediately tried to fix, as Jason and Steph nodded, knowing they could be over whenever, but you and Dick probably wanted a moment to get used to the new place.

And suddenly, it was quiet. The bustle of the Gotham streets was faint, and you walked through the apartment which was truly designed perfectly, imagining the dinner parties, late night adventures, and peaceful mornings you’d get to have in your new place.

“As much as I hate to admit it, they did good.” Dick broke the silence. You nodded in agreement, unable to wipe the heartfelt smile off your face, you gave him a peck and said, “They sure did, it feels good to be home.”

~

I hope you enjoyed!! Thank you again for the request!

[ratsinyourskin0]

Sanemi wants his Love out of the corps.

Warning: Fem bodied reader, forced pregnancy, controlling behaviour, Yandere behaviour, soft bdsm, smut.

2.4K words!

Second fic I’ve ever made! Be warned there will be some grammar mistakes and maybe punctuation mistakes! I think my writing is getting better!

Sanemi has been a good husband, doting, loving, supportive.. in his eyes at least.

In reality he’s been quite the opposite. he often degrades and belittles your role in the demon corps, threatening to force you out of the corps if you ever return home with a serious injury.

His opinion of a serious injury seems to be small scratches and bruises, luckily for you you’re very careful and quick on your feet so you’ve managed to avoid being hurt bad enough for Sanemi to freak out over, that was until your last mission. You were sent about 3 hours away from home deep into the forest along with another member of the corps.

You thought this would be a pretty cut and dry mission. little did you know, you were sent in terrifyingly underprepared for this mission against someone not even Sanemi could have saved you from. You and the other corps member walked through the forest- on guard, of course, something just felt so.. off about the area; you were so strangely nervous but managed to stayed stoic for your fellow corps member, although the tension and sense of unease filling the air made it hard to keep your composure, every bone in your body told you to run while you could.

It didn’t take long before the demon reared it’s rather handsome face.. as angry as that fact makes you, he had a muscular build with skin so fair that appears bright blue-tinged white, decorated by a pattern of thick blue lines with pink hair.. he said his name was— Akaza? He was an Uppermoon! You’re almost a hashira but you haven’t quite reached hashira yet so you certainly weren’t qualified to fight him, not even Gyomei could’ve beaten an uppermoon of that rank! You came to the quick realization the pink haired demon refused to hit you, but didn’t hold back on the man accompanying you, although the pink haired demon didn’t kill you, he certainly injured you, you tried to use yourself as a shield for your teammate and ended up being punched and thrown into a tree.

That’s all you remember before you woke up in a bed in the butterfly mansion. You felt your poor aching head and felt it’s wrapped in bandages, you must have gotten a head wound when you got tossed like a sack of potatoes. You sighed deeply and sat up and couldn’t help but groan when you felt those painful bruises on your back. Before you could even think to stand you hear familiar steps, steps you hear only when you’ve done something stupid or you two have gotten into a petty argument.. Sanemi.

He slid the shoji doors open and stomped over to you, his face looks like a storm cloud, Sanemi grabbed your cheeks and grit his teeth, it’s painfully apparent he’s refraining from screaming at you.

“You’re done, you’ll be quitting the demon corps. You’ll stay home and take care of the house- clearly you can’t be trusted on missions, you got injured for a fucker that still died !”

This has been an ongoing argument between you and Sanemi, he wants you to become a home keeper, he also wants to keep you safe of course- but that’s not what you want for your future.

“No.”

That’s all you said in response, your just trying to shut down this conversation before it got more serious. You watched his face of anger vanish to one of relaxation, he spent the next hours cooing over you and making sure you're comfortable in the butterfly mansion. In all honesty it’s scary! He’s never this nice, he definitely has something up his sleeve.

Sadly, the injuries were a bit worse than expected seeing as you couldn’t walk on your foot for a short while, but Sanemi happily carried you around like a bride when he wasn’t away from missions, the lucky man got his home keeper for a solid four weeks- although luckily for you, you get to go back into work tomorrow. You noticed Sanemi looming around you as you go about your day, staring at you as you read, side eyeing you while you made your side of the bed, until finally you had enough while you were chopping some cabbage.

“What, Sanemi!?”

You asked sternly as you whipped your head to the side to stare at him, he jolted slightly- he was staring at you from behind a wall like a crazy eyed peeping tom. He didn’t say anything as he walked over to you, just waved you off and you went back to preparing your meal. You tried to ignore him before you heard him take a sharp breath in and begin to say something.

“You—“

He cut himself off before he could finish his sentence, before you could even turn to question him you felt his hands on your hips, you jolted when you felt him squeeze the flesh of your hips, he pulled you so his chest would be pressing against your back and his hard cock against the curve of your ass, you couldn’t suppress the sharp exhale that escaped your mouth, he took the opportunity to force your head to the side so he could brush his lips against yours before he bit down on your bottom lip, not hard enough to hurt but hard enough to make you jolt in surprise. He released your lip and slid his hands from your hips to under your shirt, he practically yanked his shirt off you before tossing it away like trash, he spun you around and lifted your body until you were sitting on the counter, your legs spread with him standing between them.

“God.. ‘m gonna miss my little housewife.”

He purred out, his hands sliding up to your bottoms, he played with the band of them before he ripped them clean off you, you gasped and held his shoulders so you didn’t get swept off the counter and into his body, you sat only in your panties on the counter with Sanemis starving eyes trailing all over your body. His hands slid between your thighs, his fingers gliding over your panties.. where a wet patch could be seen, you shifted your body and frantically peeled them off, exposing your wet heat to Sanemi, you feel your pussy throbbing in a desperate cry for attention.

“So eager, you’re just a little slut? Not a homebody.. just a hole, huh?”

The way he growled that out made your pussy flutter, you whimpered and pressed your hands against Sanemis chest, you can’t even find it in yourself to lie and say you wouldn’t love to be his to be used. Suddenly your mind clears out of its fog of arousal and you remember you have work tomorrow.

“Sanemi, we can do this later, I have to make—“

He cut you off when his lips crashed against yours, you barely even had time to register him unbuckling his belt and letting his pants drop before you managed to pull away, you wiped your mouth and laughed with a sigh.

“Sanemi you can wait!”

You mumbled as your eyes trailed down his body, he’s still wearing the top of his uniform.. which basically hides nothing- god why does he dress like such a man whore?! He unbuttoned his shirt and let it fall to the floor, a shit eating grin on his face as he watched your eyes trace his cock, his cock is so heavy it weighs itself down, his pink tip is beading with precum, your mouth began to water and you panted in anticipation.

“Nemi.. so big.”

You panted out and looked away, covering your mouth at the perverted words that just came from your mouth before you watched Sanemi sink to his knees, pulling you until your ass is hanging off the counter and Sanemis face is buried in your pussy, his hands wrapped around your thighs while your fingers tangled into his hair. Your head fell back against the wall and you closed your eyes, a soft moan escaped your throat as he began flicking his tongue against your clit, your eyebrows furrowed and you rigged his hair, making a growl escape his mouth as his teeth brushed against your clit.

“Desperate whore.”

Sanemi grunted and began lapping at your wetness, lifting your thighs onto his shoulders while he parted his lips to suck on your clit, His hands digging into the flesh of your thighs. Your mind begins to get hazy, like you just downed seven drinks, drunk with pleasure - the moans that escape your throat are purely against your will as Sanemi uses his skilled mouth on your sopping wet pussy. You begin feeling that familiar coil in your belly.. not a coil actually, more of a scratch that you couldn’t reach, one Sanemi is managing to finally itch.

All the blood in your veins ran to your ears and you began to feel light headed, your legs are trembling in pleasure while the itch in your stomach starts to feel more intense, the itch turns into an unbearable heat that feels like a pleasurable fire dancing in your belly before it finally went out, being washed away by waves of ecstasy and pleasure, the wave of bliss hits you so hard tears prickle in your eyes and you pull hard on Sanemis hair.

It feels like your floating in space before Sanemis tongue drags you back to reality, the feeling of pleasure quickly turns to a sting mixed with the overwhelming feeling of searing bliss, the feeling shocked you so much you yanked Sanemis head away by his hair, his mouth covered in your juices, a annoyed growl left his throat as he stood up and ripped you off the counter, holding you by your hips as his aching cock pressed against your wet slit.

“Oh? The slut suddenly doesn’t want me to pleasure her? I guess it’s finally my turn, hmm?”

He said with a grin as he put you down and bent you over the countertop, your head held down by his hand, your face squished against the tops of the counter. His other hand spreads your folds and he drags a finger over your slit, gathering the wetness on his finger before he uses it to lube his cock up.

“God, seeing you like this makes me wanna pump a baby into this sexy cunt!”

He said in a teasing manner, you could tell there’s some truth to his words. You couldn’t respond telling him off before he lined his cock up with your pussy and finally sunk into you, he started at an animalistic pace, his free hand on your hip, digging into the skin of your flesh and leaving crescent moon marks where his nails are. The sound of skin Slapping together fills the room as Sanemi started fucking you into submission.

“gonna fill you to the brim with my cum.”

He growled out before continuing.

“Wanna see you swollen with my babies.. you’d be such a good mommy.”

His voice is shaking and he’s breathless, his pace somehow quickens and he lifts your hips so he can hit a new angle, his cock nestled against your cervix, his words sent shivers down your spine and made the cloud of arousal fade away at a terrifying speed, you push back against the hand on your head before he forces your head back down, a sob escaped your throat and Sanemi shushed you,

“Shh.. baby I’ll pull out don’t worry..”

He whispered and that soothed your nerves, although if you could see his face you’d see the pure disgust plastered on it at the very thought of letting an ounce of his cum spill out of you. He continued pounding into you feverishly before his grip on your hip loosened, he gritted his teeth as he unloaded hot cum into your pussy, filling your womb to the brim with his creamy load. You yelped and stood up straight, you glared at Sanemi before you tried to run off to the washroom to clean yourself out. Sanemi grabbed your hips and pulled you back against him, he whispered in your ear in a reassuring tone.

“It’ll be fine, I’ve accidentally came in you before and you didn’t get pregnant, I’m sure you’ll be fine this time.”

You're shocked by that calmness before you fight deeply and nod. Sanemi grins and lifts you up bridal style, carrying you off to the bedroom to have sex once, twice— a dozen times! You were stuck in that bedroom until your limbs were limp and your brain was dead, your head was so full of mush you couldn’t even register Sanemi scooping and pushing his cum back inside you. He grinned in satisfaction as he watched his cum ooze out of you, not being able to fill you up anymore. Managing to “accidentally” cum inside you just shy of 5 times today, He’d never tell you all the times he’s “accidentally” came inside you is nothing but intentional.

Two weeks later you felt strange, and after a solid month you notice you’ve missed your period. You cry and sob to Sanemi, preying it’s just a scare and the stress of going back to work is just making you miss your period, even after The sound hashira assured you he hears the baby’s heartbeat inside your womb and yet you kept denying the pregnancy for 4 months until it was impossible to deny the swelling of your belly could be nothing but Sanemis baby, Sanemi went to the master and had you put on leave- you can’t fight pregnant! Hell, the child can’t have parents with two high risk jobs.. he managed to convince you to quit and become a stay at home mother.

Almost 8 months go by in the pregnancy, Sanemi has never felt more bliss.. his head rested on your engorged tits- full of milk for his future child. His hands caressing your belly, feeling every soft movement and hard kick the baby makes in your womb. You’ve never been more miserable though, the baby feelings like an unwanted guest sitting on your bladder and completely turning your life upside down.

A thought suddenly popped into Sanemis head.

“I’ve always wanted a big family, I don’t think one will be enough- you don’t want the kid to be lonely, do you?..”

[austinbutlerslovers]

🕯️ October Special Fic List 🕯️

(Mystery until released ofc spooky smut but very fun)

🔗 The Chase (Benny Cross) 10.19 available Benny Cross chases you through the streets on his motorcycle but once he catches you the fun really begins.

🔗 Obsession (Feyd Rautha) 10.25 available

Betrothed to Feyd-Rautha, the dark and terrifyingly handsome Na-Baron of Giedi Prime, you should be filled with fear, instead you are obsessed with him.

Harkonnen wedding traditions are brutal and cruel, a series of tests meant to prove your undying obedience yet you find yourself giving everything on your wedding night to ensure you are his one true Baroness.

🔗 Blood Bound (Austin) 10.30 Available It had been this way at every event, hadn’t it? He would watch you, and you would watch him, always at a distance. You told yourself it was just an infatuation, some silly attraction to a movie star, but deep down, you knew it was more than that. There was something about him, something magnetic and dangerous, that had always kept you away.

🎃 BONUS 🎃 🔗 Sweet as Pie 10.31 Available It’s Halloween night, and you surprise Gale with your costume of choice—a seductive black cat, complete with ears, and a tail. He’s so riled up upon seeing you wear it that he affectionately starts calling you kitten, and instead of heading to the party as planned, he tries to keep you as a sweet treat all to himself.

🔗 Master List 🎃

🏷️ Always tag me List @burnthheparaphilia @purejasmine @butdaddyilovehim99 @lindszeppelin @austinbutlerfly @abswifey @ausssbutlershortstories @magicovento @obsessedvibee @austiebuttbutt @faegoddessog @jessica987 @oh-my-front-door @slowsweetlove @hardcoredisneynerd @thegabbyh @thefallofthedamned @buckysteveloki-me @bucking-mustangs-with-wings @shegatsby @darlingisntit @lovereadingfanfic @elvismylove04 @shockercoco @minispice-1 @aust-een@ughdontbeboring @meetmeatyourworst @avidreader73 @jkdaddy01 @xxmandaveexx @mamawiggers1980 @feralgodmothers @finley-08 @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha @majestyjade @gravesdiggergirl @nostalgichoya @umika @ifuckindontknow @kaelatargaryen @omrs-hardy-hunnam-butler @darknightmareobject @psycheetamore

🏍️ Benny Cross Tag List (will tag onfic) @landlockedmermaid77 @jvanilly @oceanablue @12joeywheelerfangirl @autumnleaves1991-blog @presley1992 @rose-deathman @sillylittlethrowaway @lillypink @faephoria @fallout-girl219

⚔️ Feyd Rautha Tag list (will tag on fic) @rougegenshin @maloribarnes1999 @moony-artemis @xxxstormyninixx @prettypinkblogger @thegabbyh @aoi-targaryen @austinswhitewolf @skinny-baby-4eva @mimsie95 @the-wanderer-2022 @jakesullyissopookie @francis-writes @shiranai-atsune @berlinalv @everyonelovesavalet @dacreshoney @caroline334 @szapizzapanda @berlinalv @moonsoulk @sophroniaclark @emeraldsgirl@aaaaaaamond @cooliosthings@mcmisbehaving